#he wanted to stop being angry. he never wanted it to go this far- last this long- he just wanted anyone- especially fucking tommy to care

[i-love-scarameowche]

may I please request Yandere Geto with a sorcerer gn reader who escaped. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

Thank you for your time.

depravity

A/N: this was nice to write, thank you for requesting it!<33

TW: kidnapping, murder mentions, nonconsensual nonsexual touching, yandere Geto, gn reader.

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

You really thought you lost him, that he would never find you. But he did. Of course he did. He always will. He always has.

You were too worried about getting a hotel room. But it's not like you have any money to do that in the first place. You've just been walking from place to place, too scared to stay in one for longer than resting. You left around two days ago, and you started to believe that you could find a place, get a job, and move far away where he would never find you. You wouldn't mind changing your name too much, and being a sorcerer is so draining. Maybe you could settle down, and date without wondering if it'll be the last time you'll see your partner every time you go to work.

It was too good to be true, really. The little bit of hope you had left was crushed underneath the echoing footsteps of Suguru. You would recognize them anywhere. They're soft, like he's approaching an injured animal, yet the sound is deafening to your ears.

The pangs of hunger in your stomach could never compare to the feeling that you get whenever Suguru touches you. You've tried to understand him, you get it, you do. The feeling of working so hard for someone who will never care, who will only hurt and hate you. The feeling of wanting to protect the people you love from that someone and failing so hard. But you could never commit the acts he has. The thought of the lives of siblings, parents, and lovers being crumpled underneath your feet like a piece of worthless paper makes you want to cry.

"Get up." Suguru hums, his hand holding your bicep. He knows you haven't eaten for a while-he had to force feed you when you were with him because you didn't want to eat food given to you by him-and that you've been sleeping in the cold. He could try to understand, and he has, but to him, you're only being fooled by your empathy. He was like you, once. He's only trying to help.

"I said get up." Suguru hisses, his tone harsher but his voice quieter as he roughly pulls you up. You then try to tug your arm out of his grasp, wanting him to let go of you. "Let me go," You mumble, trying to sound tough but you feel like crying. Your eyes are watering as you continue to pull away from Suguru. He just grabs you, pulling you into his arms. He missed you, so much. He's warm, the hug is tight, but it's so comfortable. You hate him, you really do. But maybe you could relax. Just for a little.

But you can't. You want to be warm and loved and safe. But not like this. Not by him.

You start to push at Suguru's chest and shoulders, but you're weak from days of hunger that was satiated. And even if you weren't, you could never overpower him. You know that. Why do you try? Suguru doesn't want to hurt you. Though sometimes you just give him no other choice.

"Stop it." Suguru states simply, closing his eyes in annoyance as he tries to not hurt you. He's angry, rightfully so. You left. And he's been so stressed out, wondering where you are, if you've been okay.

You quickly feel so tired again, so worn out. You want to keep struggling, want to keep fighting. But you're so tired. Your body aches and your eyes burn. Suguru picks you up, you're limp in his arms. You feel defeated, like you're betraying yourself. But you can't help it. You tell yourself to just pretend. That it'll be better if you pretend.

And you do. You pretend that you're in the wanted embrace of your warm lover, and not in the arms of your cold captor. You feel Suguru pick you up, your eyes closed now. You don't want to look at him.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you wake up in the room you were kept in before. Wrapped in warm blankets on the bed, Suguru's bed. And you're right back where this all started. Suguru's never really punished you before, always doting on you. He's stern, but his punishments are just a slap on the wrist. He seemed angrier this time, though. Your arms are sore where Suguru held them, maybe it was just from sleeping on a cold concrete floor this whole time, but when you pull up your sleeves you see bruises, so that's obviously not true.

You lay there for a while, still wrapped in the blankets before you notice some food on the nightstand. There's a note from Suguru like always. Should you eat it? You don't know. It's not like you'll ever escape anyway, you might as well just give in.

Notes : I didn't know how I should end it so the end might be a little weird

[piningpebbles]

{Video Transcript:

“(*jack’s signature mischievous music plays*) [I- I mean I know I reprogrammed the pu- the computer-] In my head I did it! [Alright?] When he died the first time I really didn’t think it was what I wanted. I thought I- I- I remember that we were f- (sighs) You know this- (*the music cuts*)

To go from being someone’s friend and really thinking... They cared about you and being in a little nation together like L’manburg, and then to have them kill you for trying to visit them at their lowest... And never apologize. And not care when you tell them all the troubles they put you through... And want to kill them so badly and then have them die... And actually miss the friend you lost?

[But it wasn’t-] I wasn’t missing my friend. My friend came back, and he’s fucking awful! [Alright?] He sucks! My friend is dead and I’ve- I’ve said this. And I thought him dying [would be the satisfaction-] or what was left of him dying would be the satisfaction that I needed, but it wasn’t [-and I stopped my mission]. But what I’ve realized is... Satisfaction isn’t going to be claimed [from] Tommyinnit dying. Satisfaction will come from me killing Tommyinnit. (*the music picks up again*)

Death happens. It comes and goes, but the act of making him understand the pain he put me through, the lack of remorse he showed me-- that’s what he needs to see. That will be the moment where I know... I. Was. Right. He will know I was right. And the sun will set on a server that will be ever so more peaceful.

And I’ll finally be able to let this go.

...I just want to let this go.”}

[jamespotterismydaddy]

When Nobody's Around

luke castellan x reader

capture the flag pt 2!

A/N: not me keeping my promises and posting three days in a row

TW: so much smut omg, throat-fucking, pussy slapping, cockwarming, overstim

word count: 1,225 words

After what happened with Luke the other day, you need to do something to cool off, to get your mind off of it. Training is the perfect thing. You make your way down to the grounds with Clarisse. Your half-sister is the perfect person to train with because she fights so hard that it gives you no chance to think.

“Fuck.” You murmur. You’re already there when you realize you forgot something. “I have to go back for my sneakers.” 

“Don’t take too long, dumbass.” She smirks and you roll your eyes before jogging back to your cabin. It’s so weird because you could’ve sworn on your life that you had brought them.

You shake off the feeling and open the cabin door. There shouldn’t be anyone inside, all your siblings are training and whatnot. There shouldn’t be anyone in there, especially not  Luke Castellan who is sitting on your bed, holding your sneakers.

What. The. Fuck.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states, giving you an easygoing grin.

“Get out of my cabin.”

“No.”

“Not only are you not meant to be in here, I also don’t want you here.” Your voice is angry as you walk towards him.

“I think you do.”

You scoff. “Stop acting like you know me.” 

He gives you a sly smile. “But I do know you… very intimately.”

“If you’re here for another hookup, it’s not going to happen.” You say adamantly.

He stands up, walking towards you. You hate the way he towers over your smaller body. “I’m actually here to apologize.” 

“Apologize?” You ask doubtingly, not really thinking he was the type.

“Yeah.” His hands fall to your waist. You don’t shove him off right away, waiting to see where this all goes. “I was very rough with you before.” His hand slides up to hold your chin, thumbing your lip. “Maybe I wanted to be more gentle this time? Get down on my knees and eat you nice and slow.”

“I can’t stand you.” You breathe out as his hand ghosts down, rubbing over your breast.

“You’re such a damn brat.” He gives you a squeeze. “I thought I fucked that out of you last time but apparently not.”

You want to come up with some clever retort but all you can do is whimper in response.

“Now, how about you get on your knees and if you suck me well enough maybe, just maybe, i’ll get you off.”

You drop to your knees. You hate to admit it but you like the way he talks to you. No other guy has enough confidence to try and put you in your place.

“What a submissive little slut.” He coos as he grips your hair with one hand.

“I’ll bite your cock off.” You say as you unzip his jeans, tugging them down.

“We both know that would be more of a loss for you than me.” He chuckles at how your eyes widen when he pulls his dick out. He may have been inside of you but you never actually saw how big he is. “Suck it.”

You glare but take him in your mouth as far back as you can. You gag when the tip of him touches the back of your throat.

“That’s right, baby. Choke on my cock.” He murmurs as he begins to thrust into your mouth languidly. Your eyes water as you try to suck him off but it’s more like being throat-fucked instead with the way he grips your hair to pull your head back and forth. He gives a little slap to your cheek. “No teeth.” He warns as he continues to use your mouth like he pleases.

You’re surprised when he pulls out before finishing. “You can swallow my cum another time. I plan on keeping my promises.”

When you’re on your feet, Luke pulls you into a kiss. He taps your ass once so you jump, letting him hold you as he walks you back to your bed. He parts his lips from yours, placing you down so you sit on the edge of your bed.

“It’s your turn to get on your knees.” You say cheekily.

“Don’t go acting like you’re in charge.” He says but kneels anyhow. “I’m not opposed to giving that ass a few more smacks.” You shift a bit at the comment as he pulls off your pants. “Oh, maybe you’d like that.”

“I wouldn’t.” You lie as he yanks down your panties, revealing how wet you are.

“No?” He asks, amused before laying a harsh smack to your cunt. You drip out more arousal. “Liar.” He murmurs before digging in.

His hands hold tight to your thighs as he buries his face in your cunt. It’s stimulating too much and just the right amount all at once. You begin to whine and try to squirm away but he keeps you firmly in place with his strong hands as he laps up your arousal.

“Better than fucking ambrosia.” He looks up, grinning like a devil before nipping at your clit. Your hand is in his hair now, pulling tightly as you’re so close… so close and then… he stops.

“Luuuke…” You whine in frustration.

“Sorry, baby but you’re gonna cum around my cock.”

He picks you up like you weigh nothing and throws you back further on the bed before shifting his body between your legs. He uses his dick to tease your clit and you whimper.

“Please, Luke.” You beg, looking at him with doe eyes.

“Look at you, so pretty as you beg to be fucked. I’ll give you what you want.” His words are so lewd but his voice is so gentle.

He slips himself inside of you in one go, once again not caring about you adjusting. Though, he exercises a bit more restraint this time, not moving quite yet. He at least wants you to be able to walk somewhat well after this. He leans down to kiss your neck, leaving love bites that you'll have to explain later before he actually starts to give you what you need. He begins to thrust, trying to avoid acting like a rabid dog even if he knows you like it.

“You’re so fucking tight. Never had such a tiny little pussy before.” The way you squeeze around him has him throwing all decorum out the window. He begins to fuck into you like this is the last chance he’ll get.

“Mmm Luke, harder.” You beg.

“Fucking slut.” He says with a grin before slinging your leg over his shoulder so he can piston into you deeper.

“Want you… to cum… inside.” The words have him going feral. He uses his thumb to rub your clit, making you spasm under him.

“Is that all it takes? Barely even had to touch your sweet pearl.” You cream around his cock and he fucks you through it. The overstimulation has you seeing stars but after a few moments, his thrusts finally begin to slow. He stills and you feel his hot cum spurt into you, filling you to the brim until it spills out.

He slumps down on you, pressing tired kisses to your collarbone as he lets you cockwarm him.

“Want me to go?” He asks. 

It should be an easy answer. You should say yes.

“No… stay.” 

And he smiles.

taglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread

[irndad]

Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-

Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹

Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.

my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k

“Is Maeve okay?”

It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 

She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 

Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 

She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?

It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 

He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?

“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”

She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 

“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”

She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 

“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”

It’s only then she frowns. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”

“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 

“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 

“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”

“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“

“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”

“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”

A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 

She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 

Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 

Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 

And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 

“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”

Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 

Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 

“You’re important to me.” 

She has no idea how much. 

Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 

“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.

Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 

The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 

He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 

[rynwritesreid]

Take a ride| Spencer Reid

A/N: First of all, I hope that this is suitable compensation for everyone affected by my last fic. Second, my next non-requested smutty upload will be Sub! Spencer. And lastly, thank you so much for all the love guys, I am slowly working through your requests. Jag älskar dig 🫶🏼

Summary: You love to challenge authority, always knowing when to stop pushing buttons. However, you decide to see how far you can push Spencer before he gets angry enough to do something about it.

Content: Fem!Reader. Smut. Dom!Spencer Sub!Reader. Oral (both f & m receiving). Thigh humping. Fingering. Light bondage. Angry Spencer. Semi humiliation kink. Edging/overstimulation. Bratty reader. Power imbalance kink. 18+

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

Spencer knew what he was getting into when he started dating you.  You weren’t defiant, per se, you followed the rules but only when you thought necessary. You didn’t mind getting lectured by Hotch, in fact, Spencer thought it was something you enjoyed.

 

Spencer knew you would not be someone who would easily submit to anyone or anything. He knew you were going to be a challenge, he just underestimated how much of a challenge you were going to be.

 

It wasn't just your defiance that fascinated him; it was the way you effortlessly challenged authority without ever crossing the line. You had a knack for bending the rules while still managing to stay within their boundaries. It was as if you had an innate understanding of when to push back and when to surrender.

 

Even though you loved pushing Hotch’s and the FBI buttons, you loved pushing Spencer’s more. Normally you wouldn’t take it too far, just far enough where you knew you were in for a treat later on. Spencer would normally overstimulate you; he loved hearing you beg for forgiveness, saying sorry over and over again until all you could do was moan.

 

But you wanted to see how far you could take it with Spencer, what he would do. You decided to play it safe to start off with. Every time he spoke, you would roll your eyes. At first, he didn’t seem to acknowledge what you were doing, he would simply carry on talking. Though after about a day of doing this, he would glare at you.

 

But instead of discouraging you, his glare only fuelled the fire within you. You craved his attention, even if it meant pushing his limits. So, you intensified your defiance, not holding back anymore.

 

As Spencer continued to talk, you let out an exasperated sigh and crossed your arms, openly displaying your disinterest. The room fell silent, all eyes on you and Spencer. His glare intensified, a mix of frustration and intrigue evident in his eyes.

 

"Is there something you want to say?" he finally asked, his voice slightly strained.

 

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Oh, I'm sorry," you replied sarcastically. "I didn't realize I had to be interested in every little thing you have to say."

 

Spencer's jaw clenched as he fought to maintain his composure. He wasn't used to being challenged like this, especially not by someone he cared about. He didn’t say another word to you, he just took his eyes away and talked to the rest of your peers.

 

Once everyone had gone back to their desks, Spencer walked over to you. His eyes never leaving yours. “Roll your eyes one more time at me, and so help me God.” You could feel the tension in the air as Spencer stood before you, his voice low and controlled.

 

You knew you were starting to get to him, but you knew you could still take it further. “I thought you were an atheist, Spencer. Why are you asking God for help?” Even though your question was rhetorical, you asked it with a level of sincerity.

 

"Enough, Y/N," he growled, his voice full of warning. "You know exactly what I meant."

 

You could sense the shift in his demeanour, the underlying intensity that had been simmering beneath the surface. You had pushed him to his breaking point, and yet, you couldn't help but feel a strange surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins.

 

Spencer took a step closer, his proximity only heightening the charged atmosphere between you. The air crackled with unspoken desire and unyielding defiance. There was a part of you that wanted to relent, to submit to his authority, but another part revelled in the power play that unfolded before you.

 

"And what if I don't comply?" you challenged, your voice laced with defiance. "What will you do?"

 

He didn’t answer straightaway, so you answered for him. “Exactly, nothing. Maybe you should go back to your desk and get some work done before Hotch complains.”

 

Spencer's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and desire as he watched you, the challenge in your voice only serving to further ignite the fire within him. He could feel his control slipping, his usual calm and composed demeanour unravelling at the sheer audacity of your defiance.

 

With a calculated move, he took another step closer, closing the distance between you. His voice dropped to a low whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You underestimate me, Y/N," he said, his tone laced with a dangerous edge. "But I assure you, I'm more than capable of making you comply."

 

He walked back to his desk, not allowing you to have the final word. You could see that you had rattled him, and that only fuelled your determination to push him further. You wanted to see how far he would go, how much control he was willing to relinquish.

 

For the rest of the day, you played it cool, focusing on your work and pretending as though nothing had happened between you and Spencer. You barely looked up at him, you wanted him to think he had won for now.

 

But as the hours ticked by, you could feel Spencer's eyes on you, his gaze burning into your skin. You knew he was silently contemplating his next move, strategizing how to regain control over the situation. And you were eager to see what he had in store.

 

Finally, as the workday drew to a close, Spencer stood up from his desk and walked purposefully towards you. His steps were measured, his expression unreadable. When he reached you, he took hold of your arm firmly but gently, guiding you towards the exit.

 

"Where are we going?" you asked, feigning innocence even though you had an inkling of what Spencer had in mind.

 

He didn’t answer, he didn’t even look at you. “Spencer, where are we going? I wanted to go to Rossi’s tonight, he’s teaching us to make homemade linguini, remember?” He still remained silent though.

 

“Are you ignoring me? How mature Spencer.” Spencer's grip tightened on your arm as he led you outside, away from the prying eyes of your colleagues. The cool night air brushed against your skin, adding a layer of suspense to the already charged atmosphere between you.

 

"Enough, Y/N," he finally spoke, his voice laced with both frustration and desire. “You’ve being testing me all day. And I think it’s time someone reminded you who’s in charge here.”

 

“No one’s meant to be in charge in a relationship, but if you want, I can go grab Hotch, I mean he is the one in charge after all.” Spencer’s eyes narrowed, annoyance and irritation flashing across his face. He had reached his breaking point, his patience worn thin by your relentless defiance. Without a word, he grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, his grip firm and possessive.

 

"Enough games, Y/N," he growled, his voice dripping with authority. "You push me, you challenge me, but do not mistake it for a lack of control."

 

He leaned in closer, his hot breath fanning across your ear as he whispered, "You want to play? Fine. But just remember, I always win."

 

“You don’t always win. I mean you haven’t won today. And what about Rossi’s?”

 

Spencer's gaze bore into yours, his intensity unwavering. "Rossi's can wait," he replied, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Right now, I'm going to remind you who's in charge."

 

He walked you over to his car, letting go of your arm so he could open your door, a gesture he always did, not matter how angry he was with you.

 

You slid into the passenger seat, still unable to hide the smirk playing on your lips. Spencer closed your door and made his way to the driver's side, taking a moment to compose himself before he started the engine.

 

As the car roared to life, the tension inside the vehicle matched the charged atmosphere between you. Spencer's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles turning white as he navigated the streets with a precision that mirrored his meticulous nature.

 

You decided to break the silence, you wanted to apologies to him, not because you were actually sorry but because you wanted him to think you were. “I’m sorry, Spencer. I was just bored today, and I thought it would be fun seeing how far I could take things. But I now realise that’s something I shouldn’t have done. So, I am truly and utterly sorry.” Your voice calm, but low, so it seemed like a real apology.

 

He remained silent, his eyes never leaving the road. “Spencer, please respond. I didn’t mean to anger you, I thought you would find it fun.”

 

“I don’t want to hear excuses, or fake apologies. You obviously need to learn a lesson.” Spencer's voice was cold, devoid of any hint of forgiveness or understanding. The atmosphere in the car became suffocating, the tension thick enough to cut through with a knife. You swallowed hard, feeling a twinge of unease crawl up your spine.

 

As Spencer continued to drive, the surroundings began to blur into a blur of streetlights and passing buildings. His steely gaze never wavered from the road ahead, his control unyielding and unwavering. It was as if he had transformed into someone else entirely, someone you had never seen before.

 

You glanced at him cautiously, trying to gauge his reaction. The anger in his eyes was still palpable, but there was something else there too—a hunger that made your breath hitch and your heart race. You could feel the heat between you intensifying, an electrifying current that left you both exhilarated and apprehensive.

 

"Spencer," you whispered tentatively, reaching out to touch his arm. Your fingers brushed against his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from it. But before you could say anything more, he abruptly pulled his arm away, his gaze still locked on the road ahead.

 

"Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. The sharpness of his tone startled you, causing your hand to retract back to your side.

 

Once he had pulled up to his apartment, you didn’t wait for him to open your door, and simply jumped out and waited for him. As you stood outside his apartment, you could feel the tension between you and Spencer reach its peak. The air crackled with anticipation, each passing second heightening your desire for him. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, the culmination of your shared lust and pent-up frustration.

 

Spencer finally emerged from the car, his tall figure casting a shadow over you. He eyed you intently, his gaze burning with a mix of anger and longing. Without saying a word, he walked towards you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards the entrance of his building.

 

He pulled you up the stairs, not even letting go off you to open up his door. Once inside his apartment, Spencer slammed the door shut behind you, his eyes never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows that danced across the walls, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

 

“Spencer, I said I’m sorry. What else do you want me to do?” Spencer's silence hung heavy in the air as he continued to hold your wrist tightly, his grip unyielding. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in around you, intensifying the sense of anticipation and unease. You watched as his eyes bore into yours, searching for any hint of sincerity in your words.

 

His voice was low and gravelly as he finally spoke, his tone laced with a mix of frustration and desire. "Sorry isn't enough, Y/N. Words won't be sufficient to teach you the lesson you so desperately need."

 

He paused for a second, trying to come up with a good enough punishment. “The only way you’re getting off tonight, is my thigh.”

 

"Are you serious?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intensity in his eyes was enough to confirm that this was no idle threat. He meant every word.

 

“I am very serious. Remember, you did this to yourself. If anything, I’m going too easy on you. Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum for the rest of the week, or make sure you struggle to walk for the next few days.”

 

You gasped, the gravity of his words sinking in. As much as his punishment excited you, it also stirred a deep sense of vulnerability within you.

 

"Spencer, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and apprehension. "I didn't mean to push you this far. I just wanted... I just wanted to feel your control."

 

A flicker of understanding flashed across his eyes, but he remained resolute. "Control is not something to be taken lightly, Y/N," he said sternly. "It is earned and respected. And tonight, you will learn exactly what it means to surrender."

 

He led you to the living room, fingers still wrapped tightly around your wrist. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, every second stretching out into eternity as you waited for his command.

 

"Undress," he ordered, his voice firm. A small part of you wanted to tell him that if he wants to see you naked, then he should undress you himself. But you knew then that would be pushing it a little too far.

 

He stood still, watching you as you unbuttoned your blouse, revealing a light blue lace bra. His eyes scanning your body, his tongue licking his lips. He looked at you as if you were prey. As you moved onto your trousers, his eyes followed. It was almost humiliating. He was staying fully dressed, while watching you undress yourself for him.

 

Your heart raced as you slid your trousers down your legs, feeling exposed under his unwavering gaze. "You look beautiful," Spencer murmured, his voice low and husky. His eyes continued to roam over your body, taking in every curve and dip, fuelling a fire deep within you. You couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at his words, even though you knew it was merely a precursor to the punishment that awaited you.

 

“But when I said undress, I meant fully.” His voice had gone back to being cold.

 

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain of whether you were ready to bare yourself completely. The room grew colder as you stood there, shivering slightly under his gaze. With a deep breath, you reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, letting it slide down your arms and dropping it to the floor.

 

Spencer's eyes darkened with a mix of desire and dominance as he watched you undress. The air crackled with tension, the anticipation thickening with each passing moment. You kicked off your panties, finally standing before him completely exposed and vulnerable.

 

You watched as he walked over to his sofa. He sat himself down and open his legs slightly. He patted his thigh, as if he were asking you to sit on it for him.

 

Taking a step forward, you approached him with a mixture of trepidation and longing. You felt the cool air brush against your bare skin, heightening your senses. With each fleeting moment, the anticipation grew, electrifying the atmosphere.

 

You positioned yourself in front of Spencer, his thigh invitingly raised and awaiting your compliance. Slowly, you straddled him, feeling the heat of his body radiating through his clothes. The contact sent a wave of electricity coursing through your veins, causing you to inhale sharply.

 

Spencer's hands found their way to your hips, gripping them firmly as he guided you onto his thigh. The pressure against your core was immediate, eliciting a soft moan from deep within your throat. The friction of his thigh against your sensitive flesh sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making it difficult to suppress the moans that threatened to escape your lips.

 

"Ride my thigh, Y/N," he growled, his voice laced with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. "Show me how badly you want to be controlled."

 

Spencer's hands tightened their grip on your hips, guiding your movements with precision. Each motion sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, building the tight coil of desire within you. The room filled with the sound of your moans, mingling with Spencer's low groans of pleasure.

 

As you rode his thigh, the intensity of the moment consumed you. The room fell away, leaving only the two of you entangled in a dance of desire and control. Spencer's hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he guided your movements with expert precision.

 

“Is this all it takes for you to actually listen to me? You just want to cum huh?” He chuckled.

 

You only seemed to be able to nod your head, the only thing leaving your mouth were moans. “Maybe I should have asked you to grind against my shoes instead, you seem to be enjoying this too much.”

 

Your body trembled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation as Spencer's words sank in. The thought of grinding against his shoes sent a surge of excitement through you, despite the humiliation it would bring. You were at his mercy, completely under his control, and you craved more.

 

Spencer's grip on your hips tightened as he felt your body tense with desire. A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips, reflecting the dominance that radiated from him. With a sudden surge of confidence, he released your hips and reached down to unbutton his pants. The sound of metal against metal echoed through the room as he unzipped his fly, freeing himself from the confines of his trousers.

 

You watched with hungry eyes as Spencer's erection sprang free, standing proudly before you. A shiver ran down your spine as desire pooled between your thighs, the ache for release growing stronger by the second. The anticipation was palpable, hanging thickly in the air like an intoxicating fog.

 

"Get on your knees," Spencer commanded, his voice low and commanding. You obeyed without hesitation, the need to please him overpowering any remnants of resistance. Your knees sank into the plush carpet, bringing you eye level with his throbbing length.

 

You could feel his gaze burning into you as you took him in your hands, stroking his length firmly. A groan escaped from Spencer's lips; his head tilted back in pleasure. The power dynamic between you had shifted completely, and you revelled in the sense of control you now held.

 

With every stroke, Spencer grew harder in your grasp, his desire evident in the way he gripped onto the edge of the sofa. You marvelled at the way he responded to your touch, relishing in the way his body reacted to your every movement.

 

You leaned in closer, flicking your tongue against the sensitive tip of his cock. Spencer's breath hitched, a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest. He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you took him further into your mouth.

 

Your lips wrapped around him, the taste of his desire lingering on your tongue. You reveled in the power you held over him, eager to please and satisfy his every need. Your tongue glided along his length, tracing the veins that pulsed with his desire. Spencer's grip on your hair tightened, his hips canting forward, urging you to take him deeper.

 

The intensity of the moment consumed you as you surrendered completely to him. Each thrust of his hips brought you closer to the edge, your own desire building with every flicker of your tongue against his sensitive flesh. Your senses heightened, the sound of his moans filling the room, mingling with your own pleasure-filled gasps.

 

Spencer's control wavered as he neared the precipice of release. His grip on your hair became tighter, guiding you with an urgency that matched the rhythm of his thrusts. The powerful waves of pleasure coursed through him, radiating from every inch of his being.

 

As Spencer's release neared, you could feel the tension in his body intensify. His breaths became ragged and irregular, and you could sense that he was on the verge of losing his grip on control. With a final, desperate thrust, he released himself into your mouth.

 

You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste of him as his essence filled your senses. The primal satisfaction that filled the room was overwhelming, leaving you both breathless and intoxicated with desire.

 

Spencer collapsed back onto the sofa, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You rose from your knees, licking your lips and savouring the lingering taste of him on your tongue.

 

Spencer knew he wasn’t done with you yet; he knew this wasn’t a proper punishment. Spencer's eyes burned with a renewed determination as he met your gaze. Despite the intense pleasure that still lingered within you, there was a hunger for more, an unquenchable longing that pulsed through your veins.

 

"Get on the bed," he commanded, his voice low and commanding. The room seemed to dim around you, shadows dancing against the walls, as you obeyed his command.

 

The bed beckoned you, its soft sheets invitingly cool against your heated skin. You climbed onto it, positioning yourself on all fours, ready and exposed for whatever Spencer had in mind.

 

Spencer stood up from the sofa, his eyes fixed on your vulnerable form on the bed. He moved towards you slowly, the anticipation building with each step. As he reached the edge of the bed, he trailed a finger lightly along your spine.

 

He reached over to the nightstand and retrieved a length of silk rope, his eyes never leaving yours. With a swift motion, he secured your wrists together, binding them tightly but not painfully. You tested the restraints instinctively, feeling the rush of helplessness mingling with arousal.

 

With your wrists secured, Spencer moved to the foot of the bed, his gaze darkening with a predatory hunger. He wasted no time, his hands trailing up your legs, skimming over the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. A shiver ran through you, anticipation coiling tightly in your core.

 

His touch was teasing, tormenting, as he neared the apex of your thighs. His fingers danced along the edges of your arousal, but never fully delved into it. It was a maddeningly slow torture that left you trembling with need.

 

"Please," you whispered, unable to contain the desperation in your voice. The ache within you was unbearable, the longing for release. Spencer's lips curled into a devilish smile, relishing in the power he held over you. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Patience, my love. I deserve patience after the stunts you pulled today.”

 

His fingers continued their torturous dance along your inner thighs, inching closer to your throbbing core. Every brush of his fingertips ignited a fire within you, intensifying the ache for release. Your body quivered with need, yearning for his touch to finally grant you the satisfaction you craved.

 

Finally, Spencer's fingers made contact with your slick folds, teasingly skimming against your sensitive entrance. A gasp escaped your lips as he dipped a single finger inside, drawing out a slow, deliberate stroke that had you arching your back in sheer ecstasy. Each movement was precise, calculated to push you closer to the edge without granting you the climax you so desperately sought.

 

"More," you begged, your voice filled with a desperation that matched the wildfire burning within you. Spencer's eyes gleamed with delight at your plea, relishing in the power he held over your pleasure.

 

With a wicked smile, he added another finger, curling them inside you expertly, hitting that spot that made your entire body quiver with every stroke. The intensity of the pleasure built rapidly, transcending everything else in the room. Your moans filled the air, mingling with the sound of his fingers slipping in and out of you.

 

But just as you were on the precipice of release, Spencer pulled his fingers out, leaving you gasping and reaching for something to cling onto. The sudden emptiness made you whimper with frustration. Spencer's eyes held an intoxicating mix of dominance and satisfaction as he watched you squirm on the bed.

 

"You don't get to come yet," he murmured huskily. "Not until I've had my fill." Spencer's words hung in the air, teasing, and taunting you. Every fibber of your being throbbed with desire, yearning for release. The hunger in his eyes reflected your own as he positioned himself between your spread legs.

 

Lowering his head, Spencer's hot breath fanned across your sensitive flesh. His lips brushed against your inner thighs, peppering soft kisses along the way, deliberately avoiding the centre of your need. The anticipation was agonizing, a delicious torment that made your body ache for his touch.

 

Finally, his tongue flicked out and traced a slow circle around your swollen clit. A gasp escaped your lips as pleasure surged through you. He continued to tease, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks that had you writhing beneath him.

 

Each flicker of his tongue against your most intimate place intensified the fire within you. Your hips rocked instinctively, seeking more friction, more pleasure. But Spencer held firm control over your pleasure, denying you the release you so desperately craved. He continued his torturous ministrations, never relenting, never granting you the satisfaction of that mind-numbing climax.

 

Your body trembled with every stroke of his tongue, your need escalating to a maddening frenzy. The room was filled with the symphony of your moans, your pleas mixed with the wet sounds of his mouth on your throbbing core. The tension coiled tighter and tighter within you, threatening to shatter your sanity.

 

Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he devoured you with an insatiable hunger. You were at his mercy, surrendering yourself completely to his touch. The pulsating waves of pleasure radiated through every fibber of your being, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

 

Just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when the ache for release became unbearable, Spencer pulled away.

 

Your whole body cried out in protest at the sudden absence of his touch. You whimpered, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Spencer's dark eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you, revelling in the control he had over your pleasure.

 

"Please," you begged, your voice dripping with need. "I need to cum."

 

Spencer's lips curled into a wicked smile, knowing full well the power he held over your satisfaction. He crawled up the bed, positioning himself over you, his hard length brushing against your thigh. The hunger in his eyes was palpable as he captured your gaze.

 

"Oh, my love," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "I'm not done with you yet. I want to watch you unravel completely."

 

His words sent a shiver down your spine, desire pooling between your legs once again. Spencer grasped your wrists, releasing them from their restraints, allowing you to wrap your arms around him.

 

With a swift motion, Spencer positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with the head of his throbbing length. The anticipation was maddening, the need for him to fill you overwhelming every inch of your being. You let out a soft whimper, begging him to take you, to quell the ache that consumed you.

 

But Spencer relished in your desperation, leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a hunger that matched your own. It was a battle of dominance and surrender as your tongues danced and clashed, melding together in a frenzied embrace.

 

When he finally pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck, peppering heated kisses along the curve of your throat. His breath was hot against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. As his teeth grazed along the sensitive flesh, a bolt of pleasure shot through you, electrifying every nerve ending.

 

With agonizing slowness, Spencer entered you, his hard length filling you inch by inch. You gasped at the delicious stretch, the feeling of him stretching you to your limits. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, a mix of pain and ecstasy that had your body arching off the bed in pure bliss.

 

He began to move within you, his thrusts slow and deliberate. Each stroke sent waves of pleasure radiating through your body, intensifying the ache for release that had been building within you for so long. Your fingers clenched against the silk restraints, the sensation of being bound adding an extra layer of arousal.

 

Spencer's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. He knew exactly how to push your buttons, hitting that spot deep inside you with every powerful stroke. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, mingling with your moans and gasps.

 

Your senses were completely consumed by the pleasure, nothing else existing except for the connection between you and Spencer. His gaze locked with yours, his eyes filled with an intensity that matched the blaze within you. Every movement, every thrust, carried you further and further into a state of raw ecstasy. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of desire.

 

As Spencer's rhythm became more erratic, your body responded in kind, meeting his every movement with unyielding fervour. The bed rocked beneath you, a symphony of creaks and moans echoing through the room. Sweat glistened on your skin, the scent of desire mingling with the air.

 

Time lost all meaning as pleasure coiled tightly within you, ready to unravel at any moment. The fire burned within your core, threatening to consume you whole. Spencer's fingers dug into your hips, his grip possessive yet exhilarating.

 

With one final thrust, the dam broke.

 

An explosion of sensation ripped through your body as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Your nails dug into his skin. He quickly followed you, releasing his seed deep in you.

 

He pulled out and had a look a triumph plastered across his face. “I think we should probably get ready to leave now, huh?”

 

~Join my taglist~

 

~Taglist~

@iluvreid @nomajdetective @drspencieee @katieeeee314 @evvy96 @oliviah-25 @starkid024 @emalynvtgtgfhvgg @krokietino @xohoneybun @spencerreidwifeee @purplepistachi0 @pleasantwitchgarden @bitchassbecky691 @piperb400 @queermaxwooo @gemofthenight @topguncultleader @luvpiercethekaty @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

[deadsetobsessions]

AU of my Gotham/Tim Drake! Danny where Danny doesn’t know any knowledge beforehand about the DC universe.

Danny doesn’t know how he got here, but the fact that he now shares something in common with Vlad other than their technical halfa status disgusts him

His new name is Timothy Jackson Drake. It’s so far removed from Danny that his parents had him examined for deafness because he didn’t respond to it. He got better at it, at putting on the mask Janet and Jack Drake wanted to see. So they took him to the circus.

He meets Dick Grayson. Danny thinks the kid is adorable, even if Danny himself is technically younger. He sees the flying Graysons fall. The buzzing in his head doesn’t go away.

He’s five, when the fading spirit of Gotham reaches out and pleads her King to protect her city in her stead. She is fading. He says yes, because she’s one of his. The buzzing in his head settles and oh because that’s what’s been missing this entire time. Danny didn’t have a haunt and Gotham gave him one.

He grieves when she dies, the new title settling around small shoulders, and the city grieves with him. In the city proper, Batman and Robin are having the worst night of their lives in the sudden storm.

He’s nine. Robin is Dick Grayson. Dick Grayson, in turn, is an idiot. Batman… well, he’s at least mentoring and protecting the child vigilante, which is more than Danny ever had. He grows fond of them. How could he not, when they tried their hardest to help his city? To help him?

He shows himself, to the duo, in his Phantom form. It’s still him, still modeled after Danny Fenton’s face instead of Tim Drake’s. Ghosts are a reflection of the soul, after all.

“Who are you,” Batman demands, shielding Robin with half a step.

“Gotham.” He replies. Danny wills the city to affirm his claim and the city wraps its arms around the vigilantes. Batman and Robin understands, a deep well of pure knowledge being tapped into in ways they weren’t truly meant to understand.

“…How?”

“Magic,” Phantom says, dry. He tells them of city spirits, and that they can call him in times of dire need.

Dick calls him to help with Two Face. Two Face learns the pain of unmelting ice to the balls.

His core aches when the Bats fight, but Danny knows now that it is inevitable. They’re part of his haunt, his ‘fraid. He knows these things far before they come into fruition.

Dick moves to a sister city. Phantom expands his haunt to Bludhaven because he doesn’t, won’t, ever leave his Robins to themselves.

Nightwing is hopeful, is pleasantly surprised, and very suspicious when he shows up during patrol.

“Gotham…? What are you doing here…? This isn’t, well, Gotham?”

“Satellite City. It is an extension of myself. You were Robin, yes. You’re Nightwing, now. But that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you when I can.”

Phantom goes back, and finds a kid trying to steal tires to make a living. He guides his Knight to him. The starved features, the bones Danny could see, it tugs at his core. It feels like the Ancient of Fate themselves were pulling him along.

“How’d you know I was taking the wheels?”

“Gotham.”

“Are you… high on shrooms or something?”

Bruce sighs. Batman asks Gotham to meet the new Robin, and chuckles when Jason is surprised by the glowing green figure.

Phantom hides this Robin just as much as the last one. He curls shadows around his vigilantes, sometimes at the same time, and softens what little sounds they made while stalking through his city for crime.

He makes small jokes with Jason. Danny forgets, a little, the crushing loneliness of being Timothy Drake.

“I didn’t kill Garzona!”

“You-”

Batman stops as a chill he’s never had experienced directed at him weaves around his neck. An angry Gotham.

“He didn’t kill him.” Danny slides a cold hand on Jason’s shoulders.

But the damage had been done and the next day, Batman is begging Danny to tell him any clues of where Jason had gone.

“Ethiopia.”

He clears the way for Batman to get to Robin. He clears the way for Bruce to get to Jason.

He’d fallen into the trap of believing that Batman would handle everything when in the end, he’s just a man in a mantle that demands more than he ever thought he’d have to pay.

Robin is dead and Danny grieves. The skies crack open and pours a torrent of smogged rain water upon the streets of Gotham. Despite that, Crime Alley is untouched by flood. They say the second Robin was protecting his home.

In a way, it’s not wrong.

Gotham fishes Batman from the bay, carelessly tossing the broken Joker against a shipping container.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’ll die.”

Bruce, Batman, lays on his back, eyes glazed and empty. “Maybe I want to.” He admits. And Danny can’t lose someone else. It’s already bad enough he feels the death of everyone in his city, he can’t lose him too. But Dick won’t come back. He already denied Gotham when Phantom had asked him to come back. Granted, Dick was nervous about denying him the entire time, but Danny realized that he’d lost a brother in the colors his parents chose for Dick. Danny- Phantom had cradled Dick in a swaddle of shadows and comfort.

“Alright.”

“Is it? Alright? I- I don’t want to fail you, Gotham.”

“It is. You’ve always made me proud. You will always make me proud. Whether it be by different name, it matters to me not. Stay. Heal.”

Like Dick was given permission, like he received a hint of peace, Dick Grayson crumpled to the floor and sobbed into Gotham’s shoulder.

(Later, long after Dick Grayson realized his little brother was also his city personified, he cries again into Tim’s shoulders after the later dropped a flower pot perfectly on top of Catalina Flores’ head.)

Gotham, Phantom, Danny makes a choice.

“Tomorrow, a child will show up at your door. You will let him in.”

“No- I can’t. I won’t.” He knows what Danny will ask of him.

“You will.” Danny doesn’t ever do it with his people, with his city, but dire times call for dire actions. It is an order. And Batman is Gotham’s knight. “You will. You will train him. You need a Robin to leash your brutality. I need a Robin, for Robin is my hope. The city’s hope. Our people’s hope. Do not forget the goal you have set out to accomplish in my city.”

Batman rages at him, until he falls unconscious from the wounds he’s gathered. Danny brings him home. He tells Alfred what to expect tomorrow. Bruce wakes up, eyes fixated on the crack that appeared on Danny’s neon green face. “Did. Did I do that?”

Danny nods slowly.

Batman crumples into Bruce Wayne. “Okay.” He says. “Alright. Tomorrow.”

Gotham watches him, unreadable. “Tomorrow.” He says, before fading away.

Tim Drake shows up at the door. Nightwing shows up not long after. Tim Drake adapts to Bruce Wayne’s cold looks and brutal training. Slowly, but surely, he leashes in Batman’s grief fueled brutality and less criminals go to prison with half of their lives beaten out of them.

Batman doesn’t see Gotham as much anymore. He feared that he’s angered his city, that he is no longer welcome.

When Tim figures it out… he allows the roads and the shadows to help Batman once more.

Batman stared intently at the extra coverage. “Thank you,” Tim hears him whisper. “I’m sorry.”

And when Jason Todd comes back to life and attacks Tim in the tower, Tim lets Hood beat him. Gotham had failed him, as Jason’s city. He deserves it. (He doesn’t but Danny had gone past the point of being healthy about his own physical wellbeing. Perhaps being a city spirit this long had affected him, even with the King’s title mitigating the worst of the damages.

“HE REPLACED ME!”

“Because I ordered him to.” Tim whispers, past the pain of a broken leg.

“You? Order Batman around? If you’re going to lie, make it a better one, Replacement.”

Tim catches Jason’s wrist, the one holding the knife to Tim’s throat.

“Robin,” he says simply, allowing Gotham to come out and peer at the child that is his.

Jason stares, disbelieving. Gotham had… Gotham had come by and approved of his plans to clean up Crime Alley. Gotham had extracted a promise not to damage the buildings.

“No.”

His city stares back and him and Jason stumbles away. Tim shifts into Danny, into Gotham.

“You…”

“I am Gotham. I- I did not want to wear these colors. They were yours and Dick’s. But Bruce was hurting the city, he was hurting me. So I made sure he stopped.”

Jason stares at the new cracks, the fresh ones he just caused and the old ones he does not remember being on Danny’s ghostly skin.

Jason swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“As am I. I am sorry I was not there to save you. I am sorry that you died.”

Jason stares at him. The Replacement is Gotham. Jason almost destroyed his city.

“I am glad that you’ve returned. That you’re alive, now.”

“…Really?”

“Always.”

Alternative Version of the above Tower Scene:

Jason slides the knife against the Replacement’s neck.

Danny sighs. “I can’t believe I’m dying again.”

Jason pauses. “What the fuck did you just say, Replacement?”

Danny rolls his eyes at him and Jason rethinks his decision of not offing the little fucker right away.

“You think you’re the first one to die in this household? Get a grip. I did it first, way before you did, jackass.”

Tim is 14. He’s a child. What the fuck is Jason doing?

“When…?”

“How do you think I became Gotham, little bird?”

Jason freezes. And then he’s scrambling backwards, the knife flung away in his horror.

Tim shifts into Gotham and Jason bites back a cut of regret and bitterness.

He… no, what? What even is happening?

“Why is the Joker not dead? You… you told me that you loved me. That Gotham… that-”

“I’m cruel, little bird. The Joker would not suffer as much if he were dead.”

“He’s killing people! He’s killing your own!”

“So everyone thinks.”

“What?”

“I am Gotham, little bird. Mass hallucinogenic gasses are so within my reach to the point it is concerning. Perhaps you should help Ivy with the city clean up?”

“Huh?!”

[angelltheninth]

Genshin Men Doing You Better Then Your Ex

Pairing: Itto, Xiao, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Tighnari, Cyno, Al-Haitham, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, gentle sex, bragging, mentioned knotting (Tighnari) clit stimulation, mating mark, biting, mentioned ex-boyfriend

A/N: Written for @tinyyellowtoad!

Itto doesn't just make sure to fuck you better then your ex, he knows he can do that, its not even a challenge, but he also marks you, not with his cum, but with his fangs. He's pulling you back onto his huge cock even as he's coming inside your pussy, sending splashes of cum flying, dripping down your thighs, already marked with bites. The real bite though is when he pushes your head to the side just before his last and by far strongest orgasm, making you clench and gush around his cock.

Xiao isn't much of a show off when it comes to sex but he is when comparing himself to your bad ex. Pretty easy for him to get angry at the fact that your ex didn't treat you right, in bed or otherwise so he tends to remedy that. In a sense he is showing off, but only to you, in the way he smiles at you when you bend your back or squeeze your thighs around his head while he's licking tiny circles on your clit, sucking on the little bud and laying the flat of his tongue over it while you reach your peak.

Childe lets his competitive streak get the better of him when he has sex with you. A part of him almost wants to track your ex down and fuck you in front of him just to prove that he's doing it better every single night. But he also knows that the guy isn't worth your presence anymore. You're too good for that guy, but you're perfect for Childe. Every time he his tip pushes against the entrance to your womb he sees the pleasure in your face, he hears you moaning his name and he knows that he is better, that he is the winner, that he is making you feel the best.

Pantalone wants to hear you saying his name over and over, he wants you to tell him, no to yell, to shout to anyone who can hear, how good you're feeling when he's bouncing you on top of his cock. His smooth, calm voice is constantly in your ear, telling you to reach down and touch your clit for him, show him, every bit of yourself, let him see what makes you feel good, what makes you go insane so he can replicate it and make sex even better next time. He wants you to know that this is about you, that you matter to him, that your pleasure takes priority to his, therefore he will always make you come first.

Dottore treats you like his pretty new prize. You get all of his attention, all of his praise and admiration until he gets tired of you. Which won't be for a very long time if your pussy is anything to go by. Your ex didn't fuck you like this, he knows because he made your him spill the details of it. So now he can make it better for you, he can show you all the ways in which he is better then him. He can make you come, he can make you squirt, he can make you forget that you've ever been with anyone else but him and he will make it so you never want to be with anyone else ever again.

Tighnari tries to get ahold of himself when he realizes that your ex didn't treat you all that well but he just can't hold back the anger. Not towards you, never, to you he will make sure that he is the best and most gentle lover you've ever had. He will spend hours sliding his dick in and out, the knot pushing against but not past your entrance, edging himself deliberately because he wants to be able to give you his all when you tell him he can, when you're ready to take every last bit of his cock and cum.

Cyno can't stop bragging about fucking you better then your ex. Oh no to others, he's not that kind of man, but he wants to make sure you know he knows that he's better. In reality he's looking for affirmation and praise from you, your cunt being sopping wet around him just isn't enough. Yes it feels good but he wants you to tell him just how good it feels. Loves to see it too, your pretty flustered expression, mouth stained with cum drops from earlier and you reaching out for him to hold him closer while he pumps his cum into your pussyhole.

Al-Haitham wants to know every single position your ex fucked you in so that he can fuck you better. Part of it is his competitive streak but a larger part is him wanting to replace those bad sex experiences with good ones. One of his favorite parts of it is knowing very clearly, if your walls being so tight around his length is anything to go by, that you're feeling euphoric from it. When you bend over, present, spread your pussy open and let the cum flow from your pussy while still begging for another round, or two, he knows he's done his job right.

Zhongli gets surprisingly possessive over you when he meets your ex. He's usually not so rough with you when you have sex but something about seeing the man he knows made you feel bad in bed sets him off into a frenzy. His hips keep smacking into yours at inhuman speed, he keeps hissing and growling into your ear, cursing himself that he didn't find you sooner, make you happier sooner. But he can fix it, he loves you more then anything and he wants you to live your best life with him. He will make any wish you have come true.

[kingkatsuki]

I started this in March and I finally managed to finish it. It was only supposed to be a short thirst post but yet here we are. Thank you if you decide to give it a go💕

Summary: Tengen thinks Sanemi is wound far too tight, and of course he knows just the way to fix it— by taking him to his favourite brothel.

Pairing: Shinazugawa Sanemi x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, reader is a courtesan, implied!Tengen using their services, virgin!Sanemi, sex as a transaction, slight degradation, praise, blowjobs, cum swallowing, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, Sanemi is way too obsessed with reader way too fast (but she likes it!!)

Word Count: 9.4k.

“Allow yourself to indulge a little, my friend,” Tengen clapped his shoulder with a grin, “After all that’s what this district is for.”

“I have no time for indulgence.” Sanemi scoffed, ripping his shoulder out of Tengen’s grip as he bared his front incisors.

It was already insufferable enough that he’d had to spend the last few nights with the Sound Pillar, but it was made worse by the grand spectacle he’d made when they’d both entered the entertainment district for the first time. The bright lights paired with the bustling crowds seemed to evoke even more intolerable actions from Uzui and Sanemi couldn’t wait to get home.

“There’s always time for indulgence, my friend,” He persisted, not taking his answer for gospel as he continued down the brightly illuminated street, “And don’t you want to experience the soft touch of a woman?”

“Why would I want to do that?” Sanemi sneered, rolling his eyes as Tengen waved over at a group of women who were standing at the entrance to an establishment trying to coax him over.

All Sanemi wanted to do was find a bed at the local inn and rest his head for a few hours so he could be alert when searching for the demon that was rumoured to be sighted in the area. It disgusted him that people were seemingly still out satiating themselves with cheap frivolity when lives were at risk.

“You can’t die a virgin,” He continued, mid-wave, “How embarrassing.”

“You need to assess your priorities if that is what you assume to be an embarrassment.” He snapped, “Not when there are still demons alive—”

“Ah, I worry as much as you,” Sanemi highly doubted it, “But You never know you might find yourself relaxing a bit.” Tengen persisted, “Might find yourself less angry.”

Sanemi sneered as he balled his hands into a fist, preparing to land a strike against his cocky fellow hashira before Tengen pulled back the purple fabric to a building at the side of them, stepping inside the brothel.

“You can wait outside if you want, I’m sure you’ll find the street performers more than entertaining.”

Sanemi glanced towards the rowdy men who were currently playing instruments in the middle of the street, the loud noise irksome as people stopped to dance with them. Scrunching his nose in irritation as he turned to face the Sound Pillar.

“Fine,” His lips smoothed into a thin line, “But you’re fuckin’ paying.”

Sanemi lingered outside as he stared at the wisteria pattern against the curtain. His heart pounded in his chest at the thought before he took a deep breath and followed inside.

“Ah, Mr Uzui, your usual?”

“Not today,” He clapped a hand on Sanemi’s shoulder, “I’ve brought a friend.”

Sanemi could see the girls in the background begin to cower away, even though they tried to hide it. Shrugging Uzui’s hand off his shoulder with a growl of irritation as he tried to avoid the pairs of eyes watching him intently, jaw locked as he sucked in a breath of air.

“How wonderful, Uzui-sama.” The lady bowed as she motioned to a young girl, “Our Oiran is unavailable now, but I’m certain she will more than suffice.”

The girl cowered in fear as she was given a push in her lower back in an attempt to get her feet to start working, the poor thing. She’d barely been here a week and she’d already had a difficult afternoon with a travelling samurai who’d assumed being rough was included with the price.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Shinazugawa.” Uzui called out from behind him as Sanemi glared in irritation. There was certainly no chance of that happening, especially at the sight of the young girl that looked close to tears.

“It would be my honor to serve you tonight, my Lord.” You chanced stepping forward, feeling your Madame turn to glare at you.

“Remember your place,” She jeered, the same sickly sweet smile on her face to mask her indignation before turning back to the hashira, “I’m sorry, Shinazugawa-sama. Please let us show you to your room—”

“I want her.” He cut her off coldly, tired eyes matching your gaze as an unfamiliar heat lingered in your chest.

“Not to question your choice, my Lord. But we have many excellent options here—”

“Keep them.” He stepped towards you as you took this as your moment to turn around. Ignoring your Madame’s calls for him to enjoy his night, and request a change at any time if he so desired. It was no wonder she was worried about you tarnishing her reputation, trying to palm to hashira off on someone far more weak willed. But you were intrigued by the man from the moment he stepped through the door, and the poor girl needed a chance to recover from her ordeal.

You could practically feel his eyes on you as you led him down the wooden hallway towards your room, keeping enough of a distance as you slid the screen door open gently. Stepping to the side to invite him in with a slight bow of your head as the white-haired man followed into the room, scrunching his nose at the potent smell of flowers that permeated the air as you closed the door behind you. It was sickly sweet, worse than the ohagi he’d cook at home; invading his senses as he tried to ignore the scent throbbing at the back of his skull.

You could feel how awkward he was, lingering by the doorway as you could cut the tension in the air with a blade. Smoothing down the front of your kimono as you stood in front of him, noticing the way his lavender eyes took note of the futon in the corner of the room.

So this was the seedy shit that Uzui got up to in his free time? Sanemi scoffed.

An impertinent man with three wives who still managed to find the time to spend in the arms of another. Having one woman would be enough of a nuisance, he thinks. But juggling four sounded like pure greed.

“Can I get you anything Shinazugawa-sama?” You smiled, “Tea? Sake? We also have fresh onigiri—”

Sanemi wished you’d stop calling him that. He usually delighted in the honorific when he was called it by others, but the saccharine lilt to your voice as you danced along his name had his cock pulsing between his thighs uncomfortably.

“No.” He bit back the insult that threatened to follow as you nodded in affirmation.

“Well, you’re welcome to make yourself comfortable for your time here,” You continued, “Our services are open to the Hashira for as long as they see fit.”

He scoffed at that, knowing that a Hashira’s pocket was rarely empty so it made sense they’d want to make as much money from them as possible.

“We don’t have to do anything,” You smiled softly, noticing he was silent as he remained still. The cogs in his head slowly turned as he wondered why he’d even agreed to this in the first place, how he’d even made it this far.

“You think I’m scared or somethin’?” Sanemi gibed, maybe a little harsher than intended, but it felt warranted. Your words made it seem as though you were questioning his valour. And Shinazugawa Sanemi never backed down in fear, especially not like this.

“No,” You tilted your head to the side and Sanemi felt his heart rattle at his cages with how cute you looked. Trying to fight the heat that was slowly rising through his body and tickling the tips of his ears.

He felt hot. If he’d have known this was how easily it was to increase his body temperature warm enough to potentially receive a mark, he would’ve demanded that Uzui bring him here a long, long time ago—

“I can just tell you’ve never been here before,” You hummed, “It’s probably unfamiliar to what you’re used to.”

You were right. Sanemi felt completely out of his depth.

“I have no desire to frequent a whorehouse.” He spat, masking his vulnerability. And yet he was acutely aware of the way you didn’t flinch like many would, cowering away from him in fear as though he were a coiled snake ready to attack.

It was at that moment your eyes met his across the room, and for the first time, he recognised the desolate emptiness in your eyes. He recognised it because it was the same one he held whenever he glanced at his reflection. So much time spent wallowing in self-loathing and pity, forcing himself to submerge himself in sheer hatred instead of looking at the ones around him. Sanemi could tell you’d been through a lot too, suffering at the hands of many while being forced into a life you’d never wanted for yourself. Much like him.

“But you’re here anyway, so you might as well relax for the time,” You smiled back, and it only pained him more that he’d spoken to you with such callousness, “And at least you can avoid your friend for a few hours.”

“Is that what all your visitors come here to do?” He sneered but did not attempt to move.

“To linger in the doorway?” You raised a brow, “No, you would be the first.”

Sanemi felt a heat rise all the way to the tips of his ears at this, noticing he’d barely stepped inside the room since you’d brought him this far.

“I don’t bite, you know.” You laughed as you watched him frozen in place.

Could you tell he was a virgin? He wondered if it was obvious from the way he lingered as his body became engulfed in flames. Willing the ground to swallow him whole at the prospect of appearing so inexperienced, and he was surprised at how much he cared.

“We have many people that come here just to talk,” You smiled, settling down into a kneel, “But you don’t seem like much of a talker.”

But that’s not why he was here, he thinks. The proposition had been offered to him, and Uzui had certainly never mentioned talking. “The perfect medicine!” He’d clapped him on the back as he’d led him towards the establishment, a haughty smile on his face. Sanemi was here to try and settle his temper, to blow off some steam. And yet here he still stood stoic in the doorway, silence hanging in the air.

“Well, if you don’t like to talk. Maybe you’d like to watch?” You offered up the option, as Sanemi froze.

What?

He was certain he wouldn’t make it from this room alive, spending years fighting demons only to be scuppered by a beguiling temptress like you. Positive Uzui had fed him to the wolves the moment he stepped through the doors to this establishment and pulled back the curtain.

Sanemi’s tongue slipped out to wet his lips, a futile action when his throat was this dry, as he played back your offer in his head. The words echoed in his ear as he wondered how he was supposed to receive them, whether he needed to say yes or if you would be so kind as to show him exactly what you meant.

He’d never thought much of laying with a woman before. His line of work failed to offer much chance of finding a suitable wife and settling down, even though Uzui had managed to find three. More interested in ridding the world of the scourge of demons instead of cheap frills and frivolity. Sanemi’s only glimpses of breasts had been in onsens or walking through the Red light district. Enough to have his cock pulsing between his thighs as he fought the temptation, but nothing like how you made him feel standing in front of him right now.

“Uzui-sama had said to show you—”

“Can’t you just get on with it?” He cut you off, definitely a little harsher than intended. But it’s to be expected when he’s like a wild deer backed into a corner, as you mentioned the shepherd that had dragged him to the slaughter.

He was going to kill Uzui-sama when he got out of this, he scoffed, the man probably only attended the house to hear that honorific.

“Of course, Shinazugawa-sama.” You smiled, as Sanemi’s eyes now focused on your smaller hands teasing the opening of your kimono, his cock bucking under his pants at the same honorific, “So you can learn how to please a woman.”

Sanemi didn’t want a woman, he had no intention of pleasing anyone. And yet he found himself wondering on what it would be like to please you. Whether your eyes would roll, or your toes would curl. Thinking about the saccharine sigh of his name tumbling from your lips when he had you on the crux of your bliss. And then he began to wonder whether any man had ever pleased a woman inside these four walls, whether a man had ever pleased you—

“Is that even important?” He scoffed, lips coiled into a sneer as you sat back on your haunches.

“Well, it depends. I’m sure as long as you have a woman to lay with you’ll find your pleasure,” You smiled, finding no offence in his question, “But if you help her find her pleasure you’ll be far more satisfied.”

Sanemi felt the heat inside him start to burn as you pressed him to stay. Telling himself it was out of pure intrigue as he lowered his sword to the floor, his palm still clasped over it as he made his decision to stay.

You managed to get him to kneel, although he positioned himself with one foot on the ground. Knee bent as though he was preparing to flee the scene the moment this became too much.

“So you’re only here because of your friend?” You posed the question to him in an attempt to break the ice, though it was more than obvious to be true.

The hunched shoulders and flushed cheeks made it wholly apparent that this wasn’t one of his usual haunts. And that the Hashira felt extremely out of place—

Awkward.

“He seems to think I’m wound too tight,” Sanemi grunted, eyes focused on the way you languidly disrobed.

If he had the confidence he’d reach across the room and pull the haori down your shoulders himself, telling you to hurry up. He’d never witnessed someone take so long to disrobe, although he supposed this was some sort of show you were supposed to put on for the drunken men who frequented the establishment. So he held back, watching as the fabric finally pooled around you.

“So he brought you here to let off some steam.” You smile, beginning to work on the buttons at the front of your kimono.

“And what say you?” He sneered, “What do you think?”

“I’d say your job is difficult,” You whispered, slowly pulling back the front of your kimono to expose your naked breasts to his prying gaze.

Sanemi didn’t say anything, but you noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Nostrils flaring as he exhaled softly as the fabric fell around you to join your haori.

“It’s no wonder you have so much rage inside.” You continue, hands delicate in your lap as you allow him to look at you, “It’s okay to let it out. To release some tension—”

You were right, Sanemi supposed. Although since being inside this building he somehow felt worse— the tension continuing to build inside his abdomen as his pelvis tightened uncomfortably, his heavy cock throbbing with desire as it pressed against the front of his uniform. Shifting his thighs as he tried to give himself some slight relief from the incessant throb, as you did little to satiate it when you began to tease your naked breasts.

“Are you a virgin, Shinazugawa-sama?” You asked, although you were certain you already knew the answer.

“What’s it to you?” He mocked, “You’re just a common whore ready to spread her legs. It’s your job—”

“I’m sorry, my Lord.” You smile softly, finding no malice in his words. It was clear he was trying to deflect your question, as though the answer burned him to say, “I was certain you wanted to talk.”

You were worried you may have pushed him too much, that he would turn and flee the room and leave you naked and alone. Or worse— attack.

You’d had it happen before. Men who would enter the building of their own free will, before turning on you at the last moment. Hands wound tight around your neck as they blamed you for cheating on their wives, for making them do this. And it wasn’t just the men who had nothing else to lose; the ones that would spend their final gold on a night with a woman. These were respected members of society— samurai, business owners, and demon slayers. And perhaps that’s why every other woman had cowered in fear when the Wind Pillar had stepped through the door, because they expected nothing less from the ruthless Hashira.

But he looked vulnerable.

“If you don’t want to talk,” You continued to pull back the fabric of your kimono to expose your naked frame to his lilac eyes, the material cascaded down your body and onto the floor as you allowed him to drink in the sight of you. His eyes roamed your naked skin as they followed a path along your sternum, between the valley of your breasts until they settled on your chubby mound, “I’m certain there are other things we could do that would please you.”

Sanemi’s throat seized as he watched your hands reach up to mould against your round breasts, the skin dipping beneath your touch as you let out a soft, satisfied gasp. A sound that sent jolts of electricity surging through his veins. Enough to have his hands balling into tight fists that settled on top of his thighs as blunt nails dug into his palms, focused on the way your nipples hardened as you pinched and rolled them between your thumb and forefinger.

“You can touch me, you know,” You murmured, “I don’t mind.”

Sanemi swallowed thickly at the invitation. It was why he was here, after all. But somehow it felt daunting to reach out and close the gap, unsure where he should even start with you as he stayed stoic across the room.

You chanced scooting towards him across the wooden floor, settling yourself in front of him as you reached out to grasp one of his tightly closed fists. Gently prying his fingers open as he allowed you to contort his hand, splaying his fingers as you laced your fingers through his own, threading them together as your warmth engulfed him.

The action felt too intimate, which felt peculiar to say when he was sat opposite a half-naked stranger. And yet, he found himself not wanting to pull away. He leaned into your touch, his palm squeezing yours as you took it for reassurance, a soft smile on your face as he found himself beginning to relax.

“It’s okay,” You cooed, “We can just sit like this if you’d prefer.”

You were delighted when you felt the tense muscles in his hand begin to relax as his clenched jaw softened.

“Or we can tell your friend we did everything you wanted,” You continue with a laugh, “And that way it wouldn’t be a lie.”

And Sanemi wished he could put all his wants into words. The thoughts that now ran rampant through his mind as he breathed in the candied scent of you, feeling you lean closer to pepper gentle kisses to the side of his jaw. Tickling his skin against the growing stubble that left a shadow as you moved forward to place your hand flat against his muscular thigh.

“There wouldn’t be a need to lie.” Sanemi’s voice was rough like gravel as he tried desperately to wet his tongue, the roof of his mouth giving no appeasement as his Adam’s apple bobbed thickly.

“Oh?” You murmured, feeling no hint of him pulling away as you leaned back to face him. Your breath fanning his skin as you looked at him through thick, long lashes. Sultry eyes flickering towards his chapped lips before returning his gaze, “So what would you like us to tell him?”

“W-what?” Sanemi stuttered, cursing himself for sounding so pathetic.

“What is it you’d like to tell him?” You smiled softly, your hand slipping higher along his thigh, “What stories do you want to return with?”

And now Sanemi was certain this was the closest he’d come to death.

“Maybe I can suck your cock?” The words almost had him falling apart as he focused on every syllable, unused to someone speaking to him with such candour.

“Uh- yeah.” He felt the embarrassment begin to bloom inside him at his pathetic response as his eyes bore into your own.

You managed to get him on his back, chest heaving as you began to unfasten the belt around his hips. Watching the way his gut clenched in anticipation as you palmed him softly through the rough fabric, causing his hips to buck as he cursed beneath his breath.

“You feel big, Shinazugawa-sama.”

“Call me Sanemi.” He barked back gruffly, wanting to hear the sweet sound of his name leave your lips instead.

“Of course, Sanemi.” You cooed. Never making it to the futon as you straddled his thighs where he lay on the hardwood floor. Shrugging off the rest of your kimono to leave your body completely bare above him as he had to try to remember to breathe.

It was difficult to think when he noticed just how close your bare cunt was to his crotch, certain he could feel the warmth radiating from it against his thigh as you began to tug his pants down. Enough to free his aching cock as it drooped hard and heavy against his pelvis, long enough to follow the curve of his hip as the uncut tip leaked pearlescent beads of pre. Your stomach swirled at the sight of him, what he lacked in size he made up for in sheer girth. Thick, bulging veins forking along his girth as you imagined how he would feel buried inside you, the stretch as he fucked to into the shape of him. The thoughts had your neglected cunt throbbing around nothing as you felt warm slick begin to pool between your thighs.

“I was right— you are big.” You noted, wrapping a slender hand around him at the base as his hips jerked in surprise. Biting back a sharp hiss from between clenched teeth at the sensation as his palms instantly balled into fists at his sides.

“Is that what you say to every man that passes through here?” Sanemi spat, but he secretly hoped this wasn’t the case. He was filled with the incessant desire to impress you, to have you fawning over him. Even though none of this was real.

“No, actually,” You smiled, “I think it might actually hurt if you fuck me.”

Sanemi’s cock kicked with your blase tone, certain he was about to come undone from your words alone. But as if that weren’t enough, he felt himself choking back a grunt when you leaned down to press a lingering kiss to his leaking tip. Licking your lips to taste his pre as you stared up at him from under thick lashes, “If you tell me to stop, I’ll stop.”

Sanemi almost snorted at this. As though he wouldn’t be able to overpower you and push you off in an instant, you wouldn’t stand a chance—

“Oh, fuckin’ shit—” All conscious thoughts were ripped away from him the moment you wrapped your lips around his cock. Catching you by surprise as his hips jerked roughly, forcing more of his length inside your wet mouth as the heady tip of his cock pressed against the back of your throat. The sudden motion caused you to gag as you pulled back to cough and splutter, and Sanemi felt downright depraved when he throbbed at the sight of you. Strings of spit mixed with his pre connected him to your mouth as he groaned, noticing the fat tears that now clumped in your lashes as he tried to remember to breathe, “I’m sorry, I’m—”

“It’s okay,” You brushed him off with a smile, your warm palms stroked softly against his hairy thighs as he tried to calm his body down, “I actually liked it.”

You liked it? Gods, you were certain to be the death of him.

You took him into your mouth again as he fought back the urge to cant his hips forward, growling when your tongue began to trace the bulging veins along his length. Hollowing your cheeks as you began to gently bob your head along him as the hand wrapped around his base began to massage his heavy balls.

It was no wonder Uzui always seemed particularly cheery if this was what he got to experience at home. Sanemi’s eyes rolled back into his skull as he clenched them shut, positive that one look at you with your lips wrapped around him would have him coming undone in an instant.

“You can hold my head, show me what you like.” You murmured against the tip of his cock as you pulled back for air before swallowing him again. Coaxing him to touch you, to move you how he’d like to be treated, and Sanmei wondered why he should even bother when this already felt like heaven.

The whiny, desperate whine that vibrated around his cock the moment he held the back of your head in a large palm was his answer. Your throat instantly tightened around him as he swallowed back another debauched moan, tightening his grip as he began to help you bob your head along his cock. Careful not to hurt you as he pushed you down so the tip of his cock nudged the back of your throat with each downward motion, something that had him leaking even more pre as the salty taste dampened your tongue.

Sanemi could already feel his balls tightening in anticipation, your movements sending him closer to bliss as he used your mouth for his own pleasure.

There’s something about being the only person to see Shinazugawa Sanemi like this. A strong, powerful man who strikes fear into the hearts of many brought to his knees as you tower over him.

His cheeks blaze fiery red as the bloom spreads to the tips of his ears as you wrap his cock into a gentle fist, squeezing the base as he tries to stop his hips from canting forward pathetically. The noise that spills from his lips is more akin to an injured animal as he tries to stop himself from spilling his release so easily. But this is exactly what you do to him, the only person that can make him feel this way.

“Do something.” His tone is cold and brash, but there’s no real malice behind it as you have him as close to begging as you can.

Your fingers slip lower from his balls as you run your thumb along his taint, dipping into the sensitive skin as you have Sanemi’s hips bucking wildly as he catches you completely off guard as he cums with a depraved snarl. Hot, sticky ropes of cum spurt from his pulsing cock as you catch them in your mouth, coating your throat in his potent seed as his chest heaves from the intensity. His hand remains rough at the back of your head as he forgets his hold on you, keeping you pinned on his cock as he fills you with his release.

It’s only when you splutter that Sanemi realises his hold on you, pulling away as though he’s been burned as his lilac eyes stare down at you with worry. Watching you quiver as you cough and splutter again, as he sits up in an instant to cup your neck and assess if you’re okay.

“Shit, I’m sorry—” He rasps, his cock still half-hard and doused in your spit as it hangs between you. “I didn’t mean to— are you okay?”

And for the first time, it feels as though he’s let his walls down. The worry in his tone, paired with his wide eyes show you the concern that you hadn’t expected from the harsh Wind Pillar when he’d first entered the room, and yet here he was offering you more kindness and compassion than a lot of your previous visitors.

Your throat burns, but you answer him by parting your lips and lolling your tongue out so he can see that you’ve swallowed every drop of cum he’d given you. An action that already has his cock stirring for more attention as Sanemi bites back the harsh groan that threatens to rumble deep in his chest at the sight of you.

You really had no idea that you’d be the complete undoing of him, he supposed as he allowed his thumb to brush against your soft cheek. Smiling when you leaned into his touch, still settled between his thighs.

He decided at that moment he’d quite like to kiss you. Uncertain if that was even something people did in these establishments, whether you’d even allow him to. Wondering if you’d ever wanted to kiss any of the men you’d spent time with working here, whether you’d even want to kiss him. Remembering that this was probably nothing more than a job to you, another way to pay off your debts and get yourself out.

He’d get you out if he could. Spare you from all the disgusting, rowdy creeps that you have to deal with daily and protect you from the horrors of this world.

“Are you okay?” You tilted your head to the side as Sanemi was brought back from his thoughts.

“Weren’t you gonna show me how to please a woman?” He ignored your question as his chapped lips brushed against the curve of your jaw.

“Oh,” Your cheeks flushed with a delicate flourish as warmth bloomed across your skin, “Oh, yeah.”

You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you’d even be able to handle his touch on your skin. Your cunt already throbbing wanton and desperate with need as your slick began to soak your inner thighs, positive no one else had made you feel like this before.

Reaching out to wrap your smaller palm around his wrist as he allowed you to move it how you pleased, lifting it to move it to settle against one of your soft breasts.

“Oh,” You heaved a sigh as your fingers stayed wrapped around his wrist as Sanemi began to clench his fingers, barely a squeeze as though he was worried about hurting you as you coaxed him for more, “That feels good.”

The words seemed to encourage him as he began to massage the soft skin, calloused fingers grazing against your sensitive nipples that had you crying out for him. Pleased when he took the initiative to give your other breast the same attention, your cheeks flushed as he stared shamelessly at your exposed skin.

Reaching down you circled a hand around his thick wrist, raising his hand as you placed his calloused palm against your warm breast. Thick lashes fluttered on impact as you looked down at the way he encompassed it, fingers barely flexing as he noticed the way his hand circled it. You ground your hips against him, his semi-hard cock poking into the swell of your ass as you remained seated on his abdomen. The motion pressed you harder against his hand as he began to clench his fingers, squeezing the supple skin as a breathy whine escaped your lips.

Sanemi hadn’t seen many breasts, but he was certain that you were the prettiest by far. Gaining more confidence as he started to squeeze at the soft skin, his thumb grazing over one of your hardening nipples as it stiffened to a taut peak. Biting down on glossy lips you watched him focused and intent, giving the same attention to the other side as he began to palm them both.

Sanemi inhaled softly when your fingers began to busy themselves with the fastenings of his shirt, spreading what little was left to push it off his shoulders along with his haori. Your eyes trailed over each raised scar that marred his perfect skin, fingertips delicately brushing over each line of rough skin and puckered flesh. Giving the same amount of attention to each one, knowing that they all held their own story. Spending slightly longer on the long ones that crossed against the front of his chest, dangerously close to his heart as your palm stopped against his sternum to feel his heart hammering against his chest.

Sanemi had never found his scars repulsive, but for some reason beneath your gaze, he felt self-conscious. Worried that you may find him hideous and cower away from him like most others did. Others, whose opinions he didn’t care about, but yours?

“I know they appear ugly.”

“They’re not ugly,” You hum softly, “I’m just sorry you had to go through the pain to receive them.”

Some scars run deeper, ones that don’t mark and marr his skin. The ones that permeate through to his heart, twisting and contorting as they sear into him hotter than any flame. Demons that keep him awake at night as he’s forced to relive the moments he’s received them, times that he’s faced certain death— and perhaps he deserved it. The pain of receiving them was often forgotten by Sanemi. The hurt and damage from each scar would never equate to the feeling of seeing his loved ones slain, from losing his family.

“But each one tells a story,” You continued, smiling softly. Fingertips stroking over the raised scars there, following the damaged skin as you mapped out every curve and ridge. “Each one holds a reason as to why you’re still here.”

Sanemi had never had someone touch him like this before, he’d never been handled with such care. It was at that moment that Sanemi decided he didn’t want you with anyone else, that you were his and only his.

“We all have scars, but some we try to hide more than others.” You hummed.

Fuck it. He thought as he reached around your neck to pull you into a fierce kiss, catching you off guard. His teeth clashed against your soft lips as he fought to deepen in, inexperience shining through his actions as his nose bumped yours roughly. His movements were sloppy and unpractised as he was far too chaste; too eager. Your lips follow along with his to try and guide him, your tongue teasingly laps at the corner of his lips and he does little to stop you. Trying to anticipate your movements as his lips fall open, granting you entrance as you smile against him.

Your fingers splay against his jaw, holding him steady to help slow him down. Moving your lips with purpose as your tongue brushed past his parted ones, delving into his mouth as you swallowed the moans that vibrated at the back of Sanemi’s throat. Tilting your head to deepen the kiss as you felt his arms encircle you to pull you closer, tightening his grip on you as if no matter how close you were it would never be enough.

His still half-hard cock is trapped between your bodies as you shamelessly roll your hips, pressing your lower half against it for some sweet relief as your cunt virtually burned with neglect. You’d never felt so on edge as you were tempted to reach down and press two fingers to your puffy clit to give yourself some respite. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by the perceptive Hashira who broke the kiss to stare between your bodies.

Sanemi’s fingers were warm as they brushed through your messy folds, hiding your face in his neck as you felt his knuckle graze your clit. A whiny, breathless sigh warmed his skin when he felt your tight hole begin to catch against the calloused pad of his finger.

How were you this fucking wet already and he’d barely touched you? Was this all for him?

“Please,” You murmured. Sanemi felt you roll your hips against his hand, as though you were trying to drop yourself down on his finger, eager for stimulation. Granting your wish as he slipped a solo finger inside you, baulking when he felt how warm, wet and tight you were.

Sanemi wasn’t foolish, he knew about sex. But he just had no idea that this is what you looked like down there, what you felt like. How was he supposed to fit his cock inside here when you were this tight? Surely he’d split you in two.

The moan that left your lips was debauched, and the sound surged directly to his cock. Swallowing thickly as he pressed forward again, letting the calloused pad of his finger press against your velvety walls. Trying to draw another noise like that from your throat.

Sanemi was gentle and precise compared to the other men that frequented the establishment, so used to your pleasure being unimportant as they were quick to push into you with little care or decency. Fulfilling their own needs and leaving you a crumpled, fragile mess after with comments on how thankful you should be that they were helping to pay off your debt. Glad that most men that you encountered seemed to only want comfort, a warm body to lay beside so they could fool themselves for a moment that they mattered to someone.

“Is this okay?” His voice was laced with uncertainty, his finger plunging into your tight sex as he grazed your ridged walls.

“Curl it,” You murmured, breaking off into a high-pitched gasp when he brushed against the sensitive spot inside you. Your reaction was an indication he’d found what he’d been searching for as he focused his movements against it. Deft and precise as Sanemi began to pump the lone finger in and out of you, lilac eyes focused on the way your face contorted in pleasure.

“Yeah?” He hummed in satisfaction, “You like that?”

Your cunt clenched around him in response, biting down on your bottom lip as you found yourself rolling your hips in tandem with him, moving one of your hands from his shoulders to slip between your bodies to join his as you pressed slow, precise circles against your needy clit.

“What are you doing?” His voice turned to a deep snarl, brows furrowed as he watched you touch yourself in front of him.

“Touching my clit.” You gasped as he knocked your hand away roughly, moving his thumb to press blindly against your slit to replace it.

“I’ll do it,” He growled, the authoritative lilt to his tone had you trembling as he made rough strokes in an attempt to find your sensitive nub, “There?”

He questioned as he rubbed the junction of your labia, pressing against your folds as you tried to lift your hips to position his hand.

“No,” You murmured, holding his wrist before moving your slender fingers towards his thumb to press the pad of it flat against your clit. Whining on contact as his touch felt instantly better than your own, “Here— can you feel it?”

“Yeah,” Sanemi released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding in as he began to press tough, persistent circles against it while curling his finger inside you.

“Add another finger, please?” You begged, moving your hands back to his broad shoulders to support yourself as you continued to match his movements.

“Yeah?” He murmured, pressing both fingers against the spongy spot inside you as he began to thrust them languidly, tilting his head back to stop you from shying away from his gaze as he watched your face morph into pleasure, “You like that?”

“So good,” You affirmed, feeling the coil inside you start to wind and tighten as Sanemi focused on your pleasure. Certain your cunt was drooling into his open palm as he followed your movements, pressing deeper each time you tried to roll your hips, “I’m close.”

“Then cum.” His voice commanded, his tone curt and domineering as you found yourself succumbing to the pleasure that threatened to spill over. Your cunt clenched desperately around his digits as you came with a choked gargle of his name, white spots blanking your vision as your entire body convulsed. Sanemi’s other hand splayed flat at the arch of your back to stop you from toppling backwards as he continued to press messy circles into your throbbing clit, prolonging the sensation, “Good girl.” The words had you throbbing as he helped you ride out your bliss.

“I—” You panted, at a loss for words as your nails dug into the delicate skin on his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped moons in their wake that Sanemi hoped would scar.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum.” Sanemi grunted, and you had to rip his hand away from your poor sex when the sensation became too much. Already feeling him forcing you towards another—

“You shouldn’t be so good at that, Shinazugawa-sama.” You groaned in satisfaction, pulling back as you noticed his cock practically leaking against his chest from the sight of you. Leaving silvery lines of pre against his skin as he sat hard and ready for you.

“What did I say to call me?” He rasped.

“Sanemi,” You breathed, and the Wind Pillar was certain he would never tire of hearing his name flow from your lips.

Was it normal to fall in love the first night with someone? With a courtesan no less. Sanemi wondered how many men had stepped through the doors of this house with the same question, returning to spend the night with a woman who was only interested in how deep their pockets were. But it somehow felt different with you— the look in your eyes made it feel like it was something more than just a transaction. And well, if it wasn’t Sanemi was positive he’d give every last penny he owned for one more night with you.

“It’s okay if you want to stop,” You smiled gently, hoping that he wouldn’t. Your cunt clenched desperately around nothing as you yearned for him, wanting to feel him stretch you out in the most intoxicating way.

You were certain it was going to hurt judging from the sheer mass that was now resting between your thighs, thick and heady. Feeling the tip almost graze your belly button as you imagined just how deep he would be inside of you. Your cunt fluttered in anticipation as he began to stroke the fat tip of his cock between your messy folds. Feeling them part for him as he nudged against your sensitive clit, making you cry out for him as he repeated the motion.

“Why would I stop?” He bit back, “You’re getting paid aren’t you?”

He hated himself for the words that left his lips, the regret evident on his features the moment he’d uttered them. But it was what he did. Pushing people away before they got too close, before he let them in—

“I’m sorry,” He murmured apologetically, “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” You cut him off with a small smile, used to hearing far worse as you smoothed a hand through the light hairs that scarred against his chest, “Are you ready?”

And Sanemi was certain he’d never been more prepared for anything in his life, his palms still planted firmly against your hips as he watched you reach down to wrap your palm around his drooling cock.

Holding it upright as you leaned forward to adjust yourself so the building tip was pressed against your right entrance. His fingers were no match for the stretch of the engorged tip as you slowly began to coax him inside. The first inch was painful, a delicious ache swirling in your abdomen as you tried to relax. Inhaling deeply as you gave an experimental roll of your hips, forcing another inch inside as you began to feel the stretch. The protruding veins that forked along his girth did nothing to ease the tension as you could practically feel them throb against your inner walls as you sank lower onto him.

Sanemi wasn’t fairing much better, his pupils blown as he was certain he could see every shade of colour. His grip against your hips bruising now as he tried to think of anything but the sensation of your cunt wrapped around him for the first time. He was barely halfway inside, and now he was positive he wouldn’t last by the time you made it to the base— his balls already drawn up and heavy as he imagined emptying his seed into your ripe cunt.

You were so fucking warm, and drenched. It was making it difficult to think as your slick left creamy rings around the girth of his cock, drooling down to his balls as you soaked his skin. Sanemi found himself becoming lightheaded, blindly pawing for your waist to centre himself. The back of his head knocked against the wooden floor as he readjusted his hips, giving you a few more inches as you moaned at the sensation. Catching yourself with soft palms against his chest as you rolled down into his touch, his stiff cock almost wholly inside you as you felt the messy hairs that sat at his base tickle your clit.

You still for a moment, allowing you both to adjust to the sensation. But it feels like a moment too long for Sanemi, a moment that drives him closer to the desperate release his body already craves. His hefty balls are already tight and pulsing as they threaten to spill into your eager hole.

It’s as though you notice when you start to roll your hips above him. But Sanemi reckons this is worse— your tits sway with your alluring movement, the cool air in the room hits his cock when you rise your hips to pull off him before seating yourself back down and he’s certain you’ll be the death of him. That Uzui will find the shattered remains of his body in this very room as he dies buried deep inside your molten cunt. How had he managed to continue life for so long without feeling this? It’s now the only pleasure he ever wants to indulge in as he watches you intently through blown eyes.

“Are you okay?” You hum with a teasing swirl of your hips and Sanemi has to wet his lips to reply. His tongue rolls over white teeth before clearing his throat, a heavy rumble in his chest as calloused fingers dip into the fat at your hips.

“‘m fine,” It’s all he can muster. Certain if he says more it’ll be over, and Sanemi doesn’t want this to be over, “Fuckin’ tight.”

“You feel so good,” You offer in return, “Stretching me so much—”

And Sanemi isn’t sure he even wants to hear it. Uncertain whether it’s because you have his cock pulsing from your sultry tone that leaves him shaking on the crux of his climax, or that he thinks you’re lying. Another deceitful line you give to all your paying customers.

“Shinazugawa-sama.” You breathe and Sanemi feels his Adam’s apple throb in his throat.

“Sanemi,” He growls, low and domineering, “I said call me Sanemi.”

“Sanemi.” You parrot, and the sound of it has his hips jerking sloppily as he fucks up into you, his name now sounded from your lips like a dull mantra, “Sanemi.”

Your hands are splayed across his chest as you try to keep your movements consistent, hips rolling against him as you ride his cock. Trying to commit the sight to memory as your eyes follow every line and scar that settles across his skin, soft fingertips following them as you ride him. An indication of just how powerful the man beneath you is, the man you’ve brought to his knees.

“Oh, fuck.” You sound out, and Sanemi thinks it’s cute the sound of such a vulgar word spilling from your sweet lips.

And Sanemi wants to make you make more sounds like that, to pull every one from your pretty throat and commit each one to memory. Remembering every saccharine lilt and coo as though he’s conducting his own debauched symphony. Sounds that will comfort him when he thinks of you, of this. He moves his hand from your hip, pressing a thumb against your pelvis before dipping lower. Stroking his digits through your messy slit, and when he touches your clit your body convulses. Hips bucking so wildly on contact his eyes are wide as though he’s done something wrong. Taking his hand to press his fingers back against it as you coax him into touching you there again.

Hunching over him as you try to keep your pace, your movements borderline pathetic as you chase the pleasure of his calloused thumb against your sensitive bud. His eyes watch you curiously as he speeds up the sloppy figure of eights he presses into it, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him in response.

“This is supposed to be for you.” You choke out, unused to your clients even thinking about your pleasure.

“Who says it’s not?” Sanemi scoffs; the sight of you like this is worth every damn penny Uzui is paying, “I want you to come undone for me.”

The dominant, commanding husk to his voice has your pelvis contorting as your body wills itself to unravel on command. Barely able to cry out his name as you find your release, your silky walls clamp down around his cock as they desperately try to milk him of his release. Your nails dig into muscular pectorals as you try to keep yourself upright, to hold onto the single thread of sanity you have left.

But Sanemi’s thumb doesn’t stop against your clit, following your jerky movements as your hips coil and spasm. Keeping his touch firm and persistent as he helps you ride out one climax to have you soaring towards another.

It’s too much, and you’re not sure you can handle it as your hands slip down to wrap around his wrist. Feebly trying to pull his grip away from your sloppy cunt as you watch the muscles in his arm tighten, veins popping out proudly as they fork towards his wrist. Practically snarling as he easily fights your weaker grip, “Don’t.”

And once again he throws you into ecstasy, your body trembling as another intense orgasm surges through your veins. Soaking his cock with your essence as you feel how wet and sloppy you are between your thighs, any friction dissipating as it’s all you can do but pathetically grind yourself against his finger while you ride out your bliss.

“Sanemi,” You whine, unable to hold yourself upright as you feel yourself falling forward onto his chest. Your face nuzzled into the junction of his neck as you trap his muscular arm between your bodies, his thumb still at your overstimulated clit as he gives it a few more lingering swipes, “S’too much.”

And Sanemi has to agree. It’s far too much, but also not enough at the same time. His cock throbs at the feeling of your drenched walls soaking him, fluttering in the aftershocks of your release as he’s certain he’s on the cusp of his own end. Slipping his arm from between your bodies in ease in favour of wrapping both arms around you, pinning you against his chest as he bends both his legs at the knee. Planting his feet on the hardwood floor for stability as he holds you against him.

He catches you by surprise as he begins to thrust up into you. His movements are chaotic and messy, with a deep-set sense of urgency as he chases his release. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixes with the syrupy wetness of your cunt that has your cheeks burning fiery red as you pant and whine against his neck. Mouthing at the thin layer of sweat that sticks to his skin, the salty taste of it mitigating on your tongue as you let him use you for his pleasure.

“Fuck, Sanemi.” Your voice sings out against the column of his throat and his hips give one more rugged jolt as he buries himself inside you to the hilt and coats your inner walls with balmy spurts of cum. The sensation causes heat to plume inside you as you indulge in the sensation as he gives a few more careless thrusts like he’s unable to stop his hips from jerking as he gives you everything he’s got left to give.

Sanemi’s eyes are blown wide, staring up at the ceiling as you move with the rise and fall of his chest. His arms still wound so tightly around you that you’re unable to move, left to bask in the warm afterglow as you cling to him. One of your hands braced against his sternum, feeling for the cadence of his racing heart.

“Are you okay?” You murmur softly when he hasn’t spoken for a while, and you’re met with a delicate kiss to your temple as he tightens his grip.

You’re certain you lay there for hours after, his warmth engulfing you as he traces gentle patterns against the expanse of your back while your fingers cord through his messy hair. Nails grazing against his skin while you feel the pleasure rumble deep in his chest, eyes heavy as sleep threatens to consume you. You shift above him slightly and whine pathetically as you feel his soft cock finally slip from your sloppy hole, the wetness unable to maintain a grip on him as you shudder at the cold air in the room cooling your molten cunt. His thick, potent seed begins to drip from your cunt into thick puddles on his pelvis and onto the floor as his arms tighten possessively around you for the smallest hint of a moment. As though he’d tricked himself into thinking that you were actually his, before realising his foolish mistake.

“I should go.” His voice rumbles, firm and authoritative. A sound that has you moving off him, despite your body’s plea to stay like this just a while longer.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself, Shinazugawa-sama.” You respond, watching as he begins to redress himself. Tucking his cock, still glazed with your drying slick, back into his pants.

You’d hoped he would correct you a final time. Telling you to call him by name as he buttoned the first few buttons of his shirt before tugging his haori back on, but the words don’t come.

You wonder whether it’s because he’s unsure what to say, lingering by the door as though he wants to turn back to give you a proper goodbye. Reaching down to grab your kimono to pull it back over your shoulders.

“Thank you.” He whispers before tugging at the door.

You were hoping it would feel a little less transactional, even though you were certain that this was all it was to him. A coldness now resides in the room that you’re certain you’d never felt before, an uncertain frost that bites away at the fierce burn of your heart. You have to remind yourself of the reason why you’re here, the reason why the Wind Hashira had chosen to lay with you.

The next morning you were surprised to find out just how much Sanemi had left behind that evening. Certain the payment was more than enough to settle your debts and free you from this existence, as you felt the fog of uncertainty that shrouded your time here begin to clear.

You’d hoped that he would’ve left some way to thank him, a forwarding address or at least a note to accompany the payment. But what you didn’t expect was for the Wind Pillar to be waiting at the dark purple curtains for you as you came down the stairs.

[fettuccin-e]

Learn Your Lesson

Kinktober Day 6: Bondage

Tags: Miguel O'Hara x Reader, afab!fem!reader, bondage, dom!miguel, unprotected piv, stoplight system established, degradation, punishment with sex, oral and fingering (f!recieving), dirty talk because i can't help myself, overstimulation, miguel being hot angry and feral (w/c: 1.1K)

A/N: teehee dom Miguel make brain go brrr (For this month, I am using this list from flightlessangelwings!)

You'd fucked yourself over on the last mission, disobeying Miguel’s direct orders, running straight into the line of fire. You’d gotten shot in the process, and though you’d healed just fine, Miguel hasn’t let you forget it. He hasn’t forgotten that you have to be punished for it.

He’s got you at his mercy, just how he likes it. Just how you like it, though you’ll never admit it to him, the cocky bastard.

Your arms ache with how they’ve been forced above you, Miguel’s webs pinning you to the wall, helpless and free to use just as he likes. Which apparently means making you cum until you cry, over and over, even as you beg him for mercy. His knees must hurt, they must, with how long he’s spent kneeling on the hard wooden floor, but it’s like he doesn’t care.

His claws dig into your thighs, not breaking the skin, but sending sparks of pain along your body. And God, the little bit of pain is nothing like the violent pleasure that rips through your body. He licks into your pussy like he’s starving for it, shoving his tongue as far as he can inside you. It’s not enough, it’s clear that it’s not enough for him as he snarls, hiking one of your thighs over his shoulder, spreading you wider for him as he eats your cunt desperately.

There’s nothing you can do but take it, unable to escape, wrap your fingers into his hair, anything. 

“Miguel, fuck, please,” you whine as he licks into you, his nose digging into your clit. You don’t know if he’s ever going to stop at this point. You’re so wet, your slick and his spit smeared all over the insides of your thighs, all over his mouth. You feel him smile between your legs, and you want to smack him.

He takes a hand off your thigh to sink two deliciously thick fingers into your pussy, stretching you out as he gazes up at you. Fuck, he’s pretty. His hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat and your cum, his pupils blown wide as he pants between your thighs.

“What do you need, hermosa?” He rasps beneath you, working his fingers into you so deep, so perfect. His hands are so thick, so big, you wonder how you ever lived without them.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, your hips grinding into his hand. “Please fuck me, oh shit-” He manages to find the perfect and to grind the tips of his fingers into your g-spot, and your vision goes blurry for a moment with the pleasure of it all. 

“Oh, mi amor, not yet,” he murmurs. “You’ve got a lesson to learn, baby. Fucking disobeying me in front of everyone, throwing yourself into danger.” He pulls his fingers out of you to land a mean slap to your aching clit, and you wail. “I can’t let that go, sweetheart,” he mutters, and shoves a third finger inside of you along with the first two, stretching you so fucking wide. 

He leans forward, sealing your clit between his lips and sucking, and you can only gasp, not making a sound, as you cum again. You grind into his face as much as you can in this position, practically smothering him in your pussy as you ride it out. Miguel moans like he fucking loves it, playing with your clit with his tongue, his fingers pounding into your pussy at a near furious pace.

Your wrists pull fruitlessly at the webs binding them together, but Miguel doesn’t let up. It’s like he can’t, drowning himself between your legs.

He’s talking, muffled into your skin, but you can hear him, little gasps of “tastes so fucking good,” and “fuck, she’s clenching so fucking tight for me.” Whether he’s talking to you or to himself, you’re not really sure.

“Fuck me, please, please, fuck me,” you babble, frantic for it. You hardly feel human anymore, your body trembling against the wall, desperate for him to finally get up off the fucking floor and fuck you like only he can.

And finally, finally, it’s like Miguel hears you. He snarls through his fangs, his eyes going red around the edges, as he rises off the ground. He towers over you, even as you’re lifted off the ground by his webs, every bit the predator everyone believes him to be. 

It makes your pussy gush between your thighs. 

He pulls your thighs around his hips with clawed hands, yanking you forward onto his thick cock. He slides in so easily, your cunt practically sucking him in. He hammers into you without remorse, without mercy, and you can’t help how hot tears begin to fall down your cheeks at his onslaught.

“Fucking. Needy. Slut.” He snarls it through his fangs, punctuating each word with a violent thrust that has you gasping for air. “Can’t even take your fucking punishment like a good girl, begging me to fuck you like a whore.”

You wish that you could claw at his back, pull him into a kiss, but there’s nothing you can do. You can only let out choked moans as Miguel fucks you like a monster, using you like a toy, the pull in your arms making you feel like you’re a livewire, strung up and electrified.

He drives into your g-spot like a man possessed, making your head spin and your vision swim with overwhelmed tears. “We’re not done, baby, do you hear me?” He murmurs into your ear. “I’m going to fill this needy pussy up, just like you wanted.” You keen, nodding frantically, and Miguel chuckles, dark with promise. “And then I’ll get right back down between your legs, and eat this cunt until you’re begging me to stop. You’re going to learn your goddamn place.”

It’s so overwhelming, he’s so overwhelming, and you can’t fucking take it anymore. Your mouth gapes open, soundless, your eyes clenching shut as you clench and gush around his cock.

A sick sense of victory runs through your veins though, when Miguel groans, tucking his head into your neck as his hips still, filling you up so fucking perfect. You quake against him, held against his strong, warm body.

He presses a gentle kiss to your throat. “What’s your color, mi amor?” He whispers softly, and you feel your mind come back to you, just a little bit, with the question.

“Green,” you murmur, and you can feel Miguel’s feral grin as he pulls back to look at you, pressing his mouth to yours and kissing the breath from your lungs. You try to chase his lips as he pulls away, sinking to his knees all over again.

“You still have a lesson to learn, hermosa.”

[artaxlivs]

Were they kidding with this bullshit? Like, seriously? So many gates opening up to different dimensions now that there were too many for Supergirl to close and this? This is what they got? Fuck this. Seriously.

"Are you a virgin?" Mike asked like the total little dickhead he is.

"So what if I am? Aren't you? And the rest of your little friends?" Eddie sniped back at the rude little bastard but then, he blanched, "actually, don't answer that. I don't want to know."

Why did this have to be happening when Eddie was on a perimeter check?

Mike rolled his eyes like he couldn't believe how ridiculous Eddie was being, "Dumbass, we're children. Unicorns never go to innocent children in fairy tales. Because we're all innocent. They go to innocent adults. Virgins." He put far too much emphasis on the word because he is, as mentioned, a little dickhead.

"Listen, fuck you and the unicorn you rode in on. I'm not fucking innocent. I've done...things. Things I'm not gonna tell you about!" Eddie sputtered, crossing his arms and almost losing his precarious balance on the tree branch.

He needed to be careful because there was a unicorn circling underneath him. And not the beautiful, ethereal kind. It was beautiful, sure, but it had blood all over his muzzle and splattered across it's chest and on it's front hooves. Probably from the last virgin it had tracked down in god knows what dimension and trampled slash eaten to death. It's eyes were blazing red fire and it had fangs. Fangs. Fuck. That.

Eddie heard Steve sighing and then he flailed an arm from Eddie's tree branch to Robin and said, "It can't be trying to get you because you're a virgin, it's not going anywhere near Robin!"

The girl in question squeaked. Her ears and cheeks went bright red. All three of them turned to look at her.

"Wait, what? Was it you know who? From the...? You didn't tell me? When did you...?" Steve asked cryptically, shedding absolutely no light on who Buckley was knocking boots with.

"Yes after we met at the...place." Robin supplied lamely and then bared her teeth and said through them, "After. But before we went back in to fight Henry slash Vecna slash One." She shrugged and let out a hysterical sounding giggle. "It was...End of the World Sex. Just in case, you know?"

"Ohhhh I'm so proud of you!" And oddly, Steve really did sound proud. Which was weird. Eddie was pretty sure Robin was gay which meant the caginess was in reference to a girl but the fact that Steve was so supportive was a little suprising.

Without actively thinking about the repercussions, Eddie's mouth decided to test that theory, "Well damn, wish I'd have thought of that. Steve - want to deflower me so this unicorn leaves me alone?" The hysterical giggle Eddie let out rivaled Robin's.

Slowly Steve turned back to him but before he could reply, Mike scoffed, "You are his type. Skinny, big bushy hair, big eyes, you and Nancy both talk like everyone is just waiting to listen to you to speak." He rolled his eyes, "Annoying."

"Rude!" Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully, "You know what though? I'm fine with it. Nancy Wheeler is a badass and I want to be her when I grow up. Or when I get down from this tree." Eddie cringed, staring down as the unicorn stopped and looked up, one of it's flaming eyes bore into him. It neighed, shaking it's gorgeous mane but also splattering little droplets of blood everywhere.

Gross. So gross.

"Huh. Now that you mention it..." Robin stared up at Eddie thoughtfully, "I totally see it."

Steve just dragged his hand down his face and glared at the angry unicorn, "Okay, we need a real plan because Eddie isn't coordinated enough to have sex in a tree." He put his hands on his hips like a baseball mom wondering if she brought enough orange slices and Shastas for the whole team. "Do we know any other adult virgins to lure this one away?"

Mike snorted, "Those are probably more rare than the unicorn.'

Eddie flipped him off, "You're rolling at disadvantage on all charisma and persuasion checks for the rest of time."

"We'll have to find a new DM when the unicorn gores you anyway," Mike shrugged. "Whatever."

Then he wandered off. Just walked away, like Eddie wasn't two feet away from being mauled by a feral beast who's name was probably Glitter Sparkle or some shit. What a dickhead.

Looking away from the unicorn, Eddie watched Robin wave Steve over and whisper to him. They had a hushed conversation for several minutes while Eddie yelled things like, "Wanna share with the class?" and "Good friends don't make shitty plans in secret!" But they ignored him. Bastards.

Until Steve turned to the tree and asked, "By 'things' what do you mean?"

What?

"Harrington, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You said you've done 'things' but not had sex. What things?" Steve brushed a hand through his miraculously still perfect hair, and sighed, obviously frustrated, "We're trying to figure out what the unicorn considers virginity. Robin's never..." He petered off and glanced back at her and then over at Mike who was half way down the block with his radio out, sitting on a bench with his back to them, probably telling everyone that Eddie still had his V card. Traitor.

He was too far away for them to hear his conversation so he was probably too far for theirs.

Robin cleared her throat. "I've never had, you know, penetrative sex. Just...um...uh...third base!" She squeaked again and then covered her face with her hands.

"You're being extremely weird about sex talk while a blood covered unicorn is stalking me like a jungle cat!" Eddie informed her. "Oral. Just say oral sex, you weirdo!"

"Ok fine!" She shouted, "I've given and reciprocated oral sex! Jesus." Then she crossed her arms and grumbled under her breath, tapping one foot on the grass.

Eddie couldn't help it. He laughed with glee. "Was she cute?"

Robin sputtered, mouth dropping in shock.

What? Did she think she was a subtle lesbian? Because she wasn't. Not at all. Her high tops had boobs drawn on them like some twelve year old boy just hitting puberty. He rolled his eyes.

Steve looked up at Eddie then. His eyebrows were arched in that way they get when he's thinking up a plan. They're not always good plans but he carries them out and everyone usually lives so, Eddie could do worse. "Well - Big Boy?" Steve's lips twitched in a smile at using Eddie's nickname for him. "I'm guessing when you said you've done 'things,' you were lying?"

"Yeah, duh." Eddie retorted, snapping in his irritation and mounting fear. Mounting, ha. Like a horse and like sex. Mounting. He bit his lip to contain the very poorly timed giggle.

Robin rolled her eyes, grabbed Steve's arm and gave him a severe 'be careful' look and then hustled over to where Mike was sitting. When Steve tucked his bat into his backpack and started to creep around the tree, he realized she was giving them privacy. Holy shit.

The unicorn didn't even acknowledge Steve's presence as he skirted around it and climbed the tree, grunting and complaining under his breath how nobody better call him the Virginsitter because he swears to God. Then the rest of his grumbling got lost, buried under the sound of Eddie's heart pounding in his ears.

Holy shit.

And that's how Eddie lost his mythically constructed virginity in a tree to Steve Harrington who was apparently bisexual and very, very good at blowjobs.

Neither of them even noticed which way the unicorn went.

[heartateasee]

“Clairvoyant”

harry x you (don’t really know how to label him in this one…)

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: cheating (with y/n), angst, some rough unprotected sex (spanking, spitting, anal play - f receiving), squirting and slight degradation

Plot: You and Harry had been sneaking around with each other for over a year as he was unhappy in his arranged relationship with his fiancée, but that all comes crumbling down one day when he shows up at your door unexpectedly.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

This wasn’t what you had expected when you had planned a night in for yourself. You didn’t expect to answer the door and see Harry with a duffel bag in his hand when he hadn’t even announced he’d be coming over.  You didn’t expect to be sitting on the edge of your bed, staring down at your feet with tear-filled eyes as he walked around your room - gathering things he had left here for the last year or so. The only thing he told you when he walked in was that he was here to get his things, and nothing more had been spoken between the two of you in the five minutes he had been here.

“Are you just not going to tell me what’s going on?” You asked as you sucked in a deep breath, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek.

Harry stopped moving for a second, and you could see the inkling of him turning his head to look at you over his shoulder, but he stopped himself -  continuing to pack his bag. “She found out, and she threatened to go to my father with it all.”

Your heart sank when you realized this was the worst case scenario. You felt your bottom lip wobbling as you picked at your nails, looking away from him again.

“So...this is it?” 

You hoped it wasn’t, but deep down you knew. You were never going to see him again.

“It has to be,” Harry’s voice was rough, and unlike you’d ever heard from him before.

In the past year and a half that you had known each other, you had only see him angry once, and that was because the restaurant you had ordered delivery from for dinner fucked up your order. Not his - yours. He always wanted to make sure that you were happy and satisfied, and knowing that your meal wasn’t right had him riled up. You had managed to talk him down with a few kisses, and some soft caresses, and that night ended with the two of you cuddled up next to the fireplace.

You pursed your lips to the side as you tried to keep yourself from getting overly emotional, but it was all coming down on you at once. “How did she find out?”

“She went through my phone while I was asleep. She found our folder…”

Flinching away, you immediately knew the folder he was referring to. It was a hidden one that he had in his photos, but with the proper password, it was accessible to anyone that may have his phone in their possession. It was photos of the two of you, most of the time engaging in some act of sex, and now you regretted ever agreeing to let him have that. The only reason why you had was because you knew he grew lonely while his fiancée was at work, or when she was out with friends, and you wanted to be able to provide him with some satisfaction when you couldn’t be together.

“She didn’t do anything with those photos, did she?”

“No, she assured me she didn’t, and I believe her,” Harry zipped up his bag, and for the first time he actually turned to look at you. “That’s not her angle as of right now. If I weren’t to end this, then that would change.”

Your bottom lip trembled as it fully hit you that not only was he leaving, but someone had seen the two of you when you were most vulnerable. You were careful when it came to showing that part of yourself to others. Harry had only been the fifth person in your life to see you naked like that. 

“So she…she saw me like…” You trailed off, not being able to even finish your sentence as you shut your eyes tight.

You jumped as you then felt the tips of Harry’s fingers dancing down the sides of your arms after a few seconds. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

For the first time since showing up, his voice held that tenderness that you knew and loved so much. 

Except right now, it didn’t do a single thing to calm you. Instead, it was pissing you off considering he had the nerve to come here, barely speak to you and just trudge his way into your bedroom to start packing his bag as if the two of you didn’t have something deeper than just sleeping together going on.

You loved each other. You both knew it - even though it hadn’t been spoken.

Speaking it out loud would make it a true reality for the two of you, and deep down, you always knew this was how it was going to end. It wasn’t going to be a mutual goodbye, or a cordial separation. It was going to have to blow up in order for the two of you to stop seeing each other because neither one of you wanted to let go.

“No,” you raised your hands, pushing against his chest slightly to have his touch retreating from you. “You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

Your voice wavered as you avoided eye contact with him, sniffing loudly as you tried to come off as strong - wanting to will away these frustrating tears.

“Y/N, please,” Harry’s voice was now pleading with you, but you shook your head.

“No, Harry,” you shoved at his chest again. “You walked in here as if I was just some one night stand, and your girlfriend found out, but you forgot something important of yours so you had to come back in here. You walked in here, and you didn’t give me any type of explanation until I asked. You didn’t offer me a single shred of consoling. It's like you didn’t expect for this to make me feel this way.”

You never got angry with Harry. You just didn’t. You never raised your voice, or showed any irritation. You had never felt that way towards him.

Until now.

“So, yeah, go ahead and leave,” you walked past him and out of your bedroom as you started back towards your front door. “Since it’s just so easy for you to do, then guess what? It’s going to be so easy for me to watch you go.”

Just as your hand went to reach for the door knob, you felt an arm around your waist - pulling you back against a broad chest.

“Y/N, please don’t be like this,” Harry said into your ear, and you could tell by the tone that he was starting to crack. “Don’t have us end it angry.”

“That’s not fair!” You all but wailed as your tears started to fall harder. “You were going to try and make this as emotionless as possible. You were just going to leave me to take care of it by myself once you were gone.”

“Because it’s easier!” Harry’s voice boomed as he pulled away from you just to turn you around, and you looked up to see tears of his own pooling in his eyes. “I can’t…I can’t have you beg for me. If you do that, then I’d never be able to really say goodbye.”

You swallowed harshly at the word.

‘Goodbye’.

“That’s it then?” You asked, shaking your head. “I…I don’t even get to have you one last time?”

Harry’s eyes lifted from where he was looking down at his feet for a moment, and you watched as his eyes danced over you - contemplating your question.

He knew he shouldn’t. That it would just make things harder to walk away if he allowed himself to indulge in you one last time, but it was hard to resist.

Sex had never felt so good for the two of you until each other. Without even speaking, you were both able to determine what the pace of the night would be. Whether it be rough, the way you both liked it most of the time, or whether it was slow or passionate - you both just knew what was needed silently.

“We shouldn’t,” Harry looked away from you again, and he walked past you - going back into your bedroom.

You followed closely behind him, and you watched as he bent down to grab the bag he brought with him off the floor. It was packed, and ready to go. 

The last pieces of him that you had confined inside a piece of luggage.

“This isn’t fair,” you choked out, deciding to be selfish. “You can’t…you can’t just leave me.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Harry sighed as he pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

“I don’t understand how this is so easy for you,” you sat down on the edge of your bed, tugging at your hair in frustration. “How are you okay with just walking out that door and never seeing me again? Harry, I-I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

When this whole thing first started, you both had agreed that it was just sex - no feelings. Neither of you could determine exactly when that changed, but it hadn’t been just sex for a long time now. 

You weren’t sure if it was when he started leaving stuff here that the switch happened, or maybe it was when you were sick and he showed up at your door with medicine and hot soup to make you feel better. Regardless of not being able to narrow it down, the switch had happened, and you both allowed yourselves to grow too attached.

“You think this is easy?” Harry hissed, and you dropped your hands to claw at the comforter underneath you. “You think this is fucking easy?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry continued.

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, don’t you understand?” Harry’s eyes showed remorse and honesty as they drilled into yours. “Leaving you here, and knowing that this is it…I’m fucking ruined. No one has ever meant as much to me as you do.”

Harry had never confessed such deep emotions towards you before, but that was because neither of you needed it. 

Again, you both just knew. You always knew.

“And no one has ever meant as much to me as you!” You practically screamed back as more tears of anger and fear stained your face. “I should’ve never fucking done this. It should’ve just been the one night like we said. You should’ve never asked for my number. We should’ve just left it alone.

"I knew it would end with only one of us being completely devastated because you were always going to have someone to turn to once it was over. But not me…I don’t know how I’ll move on.”

You dropped your face into your hands as a sob wrecked through your chest. The only man that you could really say that you deeply, and truly loved was leaving you.

You were convinced you’d never find another. Harry was the love of your life. No one else could ever compare.

“You don’t mean that,” Harry said as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck - thumb caressing your skin. “I don’t regret a single thing with you.”

Deep down, you didn’t either, but it was easier to try and convince yourself that you did in order to try to find the first step in moving on.

“Stop it,” you snapped while lifting your head up, and you watched as his eyes widened. You never had spoken to him like this before. “Just get out, Harry. Not that I would be able to anyway, but I never want to see you again.”

The pained look on Harry’s face was one that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Y/N, please don’t make us leave it like this,” Harry’s hand tightened its hold on you.

“I’m sorry, but how are we supposed to leave it? Am I supposed to just shake your hand, and thank you for the last year and some odd months of sex? For leading me to believe that I could ever be something besides the other woman? You told me you were going to figure it out. You told me you were going to leave her.”

“Yeah, well I thought I had more time,” Harry’s voice was raising again as he dropped his hand. “But I don’t, and if I don’t do this, then I have nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.”

“You’d have me!” 

The quiet hung over the two of you as you stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt as if your heart was being ripped out of your chest when that didn’t earn a response.

“Right,” you laughed sadly, lifting a hand to push away your tears. “I’m not enough. I’ll never fucking be enough for you.”

You kept your eyes down as you waited to hear his footsteps, but all you heard was the sound of his bag thumping against the ground. His large hands were then on your face - tilting your head up to look at him.

“You are more than enough for me,” Harry said, holding your eyes so you knew he was telling the truth. “You’re too good for me, and that’s why I have to let you go. You deserve someone better. Someone that can offer you everything that you want - everything that I can’t.”

“I don’t want anyone else, don’t you understand?” You clawed at his sides, clinging to him harder than you ever had. “I want you. Just you, Harry.”

It was then you felt his mouth against yours, and you didn’t even need to feel it for more than a second before you were fully giving in. You immediately separated your lips, tongues rolling over each other’s as he slotted himself between your legs. He tipped your head back even further, eliciting a moan from you as you felt him beginning to suck on your tongue.

Your hands ran down to his jeans that he had on, grateful of the fact he hadn’t worn a belt so you could easily pop the button before pulling down the zipper. 

Slipping your hand inside his briefs, Harry gasped into your mouth as you took him into your palm - your thumb brushing over his soft tip. He was always so heavy in your hand, and you loved it. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered as he pulled his lips away from yours, resting his forehead against your temple.

“I need you to properly say goodbye to me,” you panted as your hand worked his shaft.

Your command rang in Harry’s ears for just a moment before he nodded, reaching down to pull the hem of your jumper up - the article of clothing abandoning your body. You didn’t have anything on underneath, and he lowered you so that you were laying fully on your bed. He eventually maneuvered the two of you to have you both laying in the middle of your mattress as his hands reached up to knead at your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I need to memorize you. Every bit of you.”

Soon you also removed his shirt from his torso, and he kicked his jeans and briefs the rest of the way off his body to have him fully naked.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he breathed as he pulled off your leggings and your underwear. “But I can’t be too long.”

You shook your head softly. “I really don’t care. I just need to feel you one last time.”

Harry ran his hand down the expanse of your abdomen before both hands cupped your hips, and he flipped you over onto your stomach. The sudden movement pulled a gasp from you, and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you knew where this was going.

He was going to be rough with you, and you secretly hoped he would choose this as the last way to have you other than making it slow.

“Condom?” Harry questioned as he ran his length between your folds.

“Have you gone without using one with her?” You looked at him over your shoulder.

After the first few times of being with each other, the two of you decided to forgo condoms. You had an IUD, and he always used condoms when sleeping with her, so you knew the two of you would be safe.

Harry shook his head. “No, and either way, I haven’t slept with her in a couple months.”

“Harry,” you sighed, dropping your forehead against the bed. “No wonder she went through your phone.”

“I know,” he cleared his throat. “I promise that I tried, but the last time I did…I couldn’t get hard.”

“Jesus,” you knew that was the nail in the coffin.

Harry had always talked about how sex with her was okay, but that it didn’t compare to what he had with you. He had agreed to still sleep with her every couple of weeks to avoid suspicion, so now you understood exactly why she had gone digging for answers.

“It’s fucked up.”

“It is,” you agreed, but there was a part of you that felt your stomach swirling at his confession. “Can only get hard for your whore, hm?”

Harry’s palm cracked down against one of the globes of your ass - causing your body to jolt forward as you huffed out a laugh. 

“Watch it,” he sneered, and you felt yourself clench down around nothing. 

“What? Isn’t that all I am? Just a hole to stuff your big-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as you felt Harry’s cock enter you with one hard thrust, and your fingers gripped to your bedding as he stretched you beyond comprehension.

“Shut-up,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, and he brought his hand up to redden your other ass cheek - making them even.

After a moment, he started up a vigorous pace as he pulled your cheeks apart to properly see where he disappeared inside of you. His eyes lingered on your tightest hole, and you squirmed as you felt him spit down against it.

“You say you’re my whore?” The pad of Harry’s thumb began to smear the wetness over the band of muscles, and you choked on a moan as he dipped the tip inside. “Then you’ll take it like one.”

His digit then entered you fully, and he began to pulse it in and out of you at the same rhythm that his prick consumed you at.

You could feel your arousal making a complete mess of him while dripping down your thighs, and the noises that were produced from his cock penetrating your cunt had both of you completely, and utterly turned on.

“Sweet little pussy splitting itself open just for me,” Harry rambled aimlessly as he kept up his movements. “You said it yourself, it had never been properly taken care of until me. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, jaw slack as you let Harry use your body for both of your pleasures.

Smirking softly, he knew you were blissed out from what he was giving you, and he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he moved one leg to have his foot against the mattress - snapping his hips against your ass that much harder.

“Oh, fuck me,” you mewled, earning yourself another slap to one of the rounds of your ass. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah? Been hardly giving it to you, and you’re already going to cream over my cock?”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you could feel your orgasm not only coating him, but also spraying against the inside of your legs.

“That’s it, baby,” Harry praised you. “Good girl spraying all over me - getting us all wet. Filthiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your toes curled as his thick cock rode you through the aftershocks of your climax, and you threw your hands behind you to grip to the back of his thighs - causing your torso to hover over the bed.

“Oh, that’s how you want it?” Harry clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You want it harder?”

“Yes,” you begged, arching your back to feel him even deeper. “Ruin me.”

With Harry’s thumb still satiating your tightest hole, his other hand gripped to the top of your shoulder so he could use that leverage to force you back against his powerful thrusts. Small ‘uh’s of pleasure left you with every clash of skin, and you just knew he was going to have your squirting again.

“Not going to be able to go for much longer, Y/N,” Harry forced out, feeling his own orgasm brewing at the base of his spine. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Give it to me,” you pleaded, nails digging into his skin. “I need you to come in me, and make sure you push it up in there. Let me keep it. Let me keep you.”

Harry felt his abs clenching at those words, and it was as if they triggered that build up he had been fighting against to try and last as long as possible to completely crumble. His come began to pour into you, and he kept up his heavy thrusts to fuck it as far up into you as he could - just like you asked.

The feeling of his orgasm coating your walls had you coming once again, and you felt yourself spraying even more as Harry removed his thumb from your ass.

“Fuck yes,” he gasped, your squirt coating his abdomen. “So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Harry worked the two of you through your highs as much as he could before he was collapsing against your back - the two of you buckling down against the mattress. He stayed inside of you, not wanting to leave the warmth that was your delicious cunt just yet.

Once he gave himself a moment to catch his breath, he sat up to carefully flip you over - all while still sheathed inside.

“Harry,” the way you said his name had his eyes snapping up to meet yours, and that’s when he saw the tears of both pleasure and sorrow filling your own. “Please don’t leave me.”

The knot that began to form in Harry’s throat grew fast, and eventually he too had tears coating his cheeks. “I don’t want to. I want to stay here with you - where I feel safe.”

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, and you pulled him tight against you.

“I would always keep you safe,” you whispered as you ran your hands through his sweaty curls. “My sweet boy. I want nothing more than to have you forever.”

Harry whimpered as he shoved his face into the side of your neck. “I-I love you, Y/N,” he sobbed as he gripped to your ribcage. “I love you.”

Your chest jumped as a sob of your own bounced off the walls surrounding you. “I love you too, Harry. I love you so much.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Three months. It had been three months since you last saw, or even heard, from Harry.

After giving yourselves over to each other one last time, and confessing your love for one another, he collected his bag…and he left.

And today - today had to be the hardest day of them all.

You knew it was his wedding day, no matter how hard you tried to push it from your mind. It was all you could think about as you sat on your couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn on the TV, or to put on some music.

You just stared at the wall as you allowed your mind to be completely consumed by him.

It was self-inflicted torture as this point, but you couldn’t force yourself to think of anything else.

You had hoped that the absence of him would cause your thoughts of him to dwindle, as well as the hold he had on your heart, however, that wasn’t the case. You missed him more than you ever thought you could.

Your friends didn’t see you anymore, and you were barely making it by at work. You were a shell of your former self.

For the longest time you had wished that he had forgotten something of his behind, but now you’re glad that he hadn’t. You didn’t know how you would’ve reacted if you had found a stray shirt, or a misplaced sock. You’re sure that it would’ve been the cause of a whole new spiral.

The only piece you had left that reminded you that what you had was real, was the postcard from Hawaii that you had tacked to the cork board by the desk in your room. He had gone on a business trip with her and her father, as well as his father, and he was gone for almost a month.

You were shocked when you received it in the mail two weeks after he had left, and the message he scribbled onto the card made you smile.

‘Currently staying on one of the most beautiful islands in the world, but all I can think about is you. I wish you were here with me. I can’t wait to come home and be with you again.

xo - H’

You knew he hated that stupid arranged relationship with her, but you couldn’t believe he had sent that postcard because the two of you had only been secretly seeing each other for a little less than six months. What you thought was just going to be a one night stand after pulling the hottest guy at the bar turned into quick hookups, and weekends together when she was out of town.

There was a strong part of you that knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to let go. 

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

As you blinked your eyes open, you weren’t sure what time it was when you had managed to cry yourself to sleep on your couch. Your eyes fluttered shut again with a hum, and that’s when you registered your head was against a hard surface while fingers were threading through your hair.

You sat up quickly, and your lips parted when you saw Harry sitting next to you on the couch - fully decked out in a suit.

“Harry,” you croaked. Your throat was raw from all the crying you had done.

“Hi, baby,” Harry sent you a soft smile with tears in his eyes as he cupped the side of your neck - thumb grazing your jawline. 

Your eyes darted down to his left hand that still sat in his lap, and you braced yourself at the fact that you were going to see a gold band wrapped around his ring finger.

But it wasn’t there.

Gasping, you looked back to his face, and you watched as his eyebrows furrowed together. “I couldn’t do it.”

“What do you mean?” All logic escaped you, still completely overwhelmed at the fact that he was here in front of you again. 

“The wedding. The marriage. The whole fucking relationship,” Harry shook his head. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I…I left her at the altar, and I came straight here. Let myself in using your spare key when you didn’t answer. I got scared.”

Your heart was now pounding in your chest as you registered what he was telling you.

He wasn’t married. And he wasn’t hers anymore.

“Harry,” you repeated, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands - thumbing at his cheeks as if you were making sure he was actually here. “You came back.”

“I should’ve never left, Y/N,” Harry licked over his bottom lip. “I was an idiot, and I would understand if you never forgave me, but I had to come and see you. I’ve missed you so much.”

You pushed yourself onto your knees as you closed the space between the two of you, and you lowered your thumb down to press the pad of it against his bottom lip.

“I want to be upset,” you confessed. “And I know I should feel more angry than I am, but I’m not. I’m just so happy you’re here. I haven’t stopped thinking about you once, and it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

You both chuckled sadly as Harry’s hands came up to rest on your hips. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to scream at me. I’d let you yell at me every day, and tell me how much of an asshole I am if it would make you feel better.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, it doesn’t matter now. You’re here. We’re together.”

“Together,” Harry confirmed with a nod.

“I love you,” you whispered as you dropped your forehead against his.

“I love you too.”

And then finally, the feeling that you had yearned for for weeks now was once again yours. Heart shaped lips pressed against your own, and you allowed the sensation to take you over completely.

Harry was here. And he was yours.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

[lovifie]

Darkfic!Gaz, nothing too extreme but this is not loverboy!Gaz, this is more of It-makes-me-want-to-laugh-at-you-when-you-cry!Gaz.

TW: emotional manipulation, a bit of dubcon, mentions of kidnaps

Everyone has a limit, and Gaz is not an exception.

He is still made of meat and bones, and emotions can be tamed but not ignored forever.

Working in the military takes a toll on everybody, both physically and emotionally. And survivor guilt is the worst of them all.

Gaz is back from his last mission, but many of his colleagues won't. Ever again.

Too many casualties.

Too many lives lost.

Too many injured.

And he is fine.

Not even a scratch he could pick at to feel the pain he deserves.

He shouldn't be walking home so freely, dozens of families are about to find out they will never be whole again.

And he is walking home to you, happy to welcome him back as if he was a hero, dinner warm on the table and you talking to him about your day.

As if he would care about how your colleague invited you to a company dinner in a couple of days. People died today, he couldn't care less.

But it seems you cannot get the memo.

“Can you shut the fuck up for a fucking second? Shit! I have been out for months, I just want some fucking quiet time and you keep fucking going on and on about you. How can you be so selfish?! Fuck! Just shut up, for fuck sake!” He says, standing up from the table and dropping his half-eaten dinner on the sink before walking upstairs to the bathroom to shower.

He regrets it the moment the words leave his lips, the hurt look on your face as if he had just hit you. 

It had happened before, the pressure of his work gets too much, he keeps it in, not being able to complain to anyone, until it overfills and in the end you are the one that takes the fall.

He hates himself for it, you are literary the best thing he has, his sweet girl, always willing to take him in, more ways than another, always willing to listen to him, always patient, always kind.

And this is how he repays you, with shouts, sex and apologies. That's the cycle.

He'll get out of the shower and you'll be lying on the sofa, not wanting to share the bed with him, he'll pull you apart and back together on said sofa, and once you are satisfied and pliant he'll take you to bed to sleep on his arms. 

Until it happens again. 

He gets out of the shower, towel around his hips, and goes down to the living room. But you aren't there, his brows furrow; maybe you are picking the blanket from the room. 

So he goes upstairs again, smiling when the room's light is on, and enters; smile quickly dropping when he sees you. 

No. No. No. No.

His stomach sinks when he sees the suitcase open on top of the bed, clothes being thrown inside by you.

He can see the tears in your eyes, but you don't look sad, you look angry. You have never been angry at him, he can't wait to feel it.

“Hey, hey, hey, what are you doing?” He asks stepping closer, closing the suitcase so you can’t put any more clothes in. 

You huff, looking at him with hate and tears in your eyes as you try to move his hand away from the suitcase. “I'm leaving, Kyle” 

No, no, no, you can leave, he needs you, how can you leave him? What will he do without you?

“Why? Love, please, stop, talk to me, please?” He begs, making you throw the t-shirt on your hand to the floor.

“Talk to you?!” You shout at him. “Maybe I should talk to you the way you talk to me, Kyle! Then maybe you would get an idea of how much it hurts!”

He deserves it, he knows he does, but you have never spoken this loudly to him before, and it stirs something inside him. It makes him wonder if he can make you moan as loud, scream his name. 

“I know, love. I'm sorry, I really am. You know that, right? You know that I love you to bits?” He asks, manipulation at his best. But you don't fall for it, you are far too smart to be blinded by his hurt expression. He tries to cup your face, if he can touch you he knows he's got you; but so do you, and you quickly move his hands away from your face.

“If you loved me you wouldn't treat me the way you do, Kyle.” You argue, clever girl you are.

“How can I not love you, dear?” He asks, body moving closer to you. Your hand rests on the middle of his naked chest, keeping him back. It's the back of your hand that touches him, almost as if your palm was too good to touch him. 

Your touch is cold, both literally and figuratively and that makes him start to panic. What if you actually leave? What if he can't fix this before is too late? What if it is too late? 

He needs you, he needs the control he has over you. Everything in his life constantly feels out of control, his superiors barking orders at him, enemies playing with him, and comrades dying on the battlefield without him being able to do anything about it. He needs to feel he is in control of something, even if that something is a someone and even if that someone is you.

He still pushes closer, the heat from his body pooling into the coldness of your touch. He resists the urge to smile satisfied with how your body betrays you. Kyle does love you, even if it is in an unfair, distorted and macabre way. And he knows you love him, in a genuine, comforting and undeserving way. 

His hands manage to get to your face, pushing his face forward to kiss your cheek. Baby steps.

“C’mon, love. I'm sorry, please. I won't do it again, I promise. I'll work on it, I promise I never intended to hurt you. I'm sorry, it's the job, I promise. I love you, darling. I really do.” He says, as he drops kisses on your face, lowering to your jaw and the moment he reaches your neck, he smiles, hidden from your eyes, knowing he is keeping you once more. 

Shouts, sex and apologies. That's the cycle.

“Kyle…” You protest, your hand still on his chest and some fight still in you, but he can work it out of you. 

“I'm sorry, dear. I'll treat you better, I promise. As good as you deserve, I promise.” He has you against his chest now, and he feels your hand slowly turning on his chest; your palm much warmer against his skin. 

He sucks on your neck making you whimper and he needs every bit of self-restraint not to laugh at you, not to laugh at how easy it was. He shouldn't have gotten nervous, he’s got you eating out of his hands.

The part of his brain that is still human, that tells him that you are still human starts to talk to his dismay. He knows it! He perfectly knows that he is a monster for how he treats you, that you should be with someone a hundred times better, such a sweet girl stuck together with such a horrible man.

But one of the many traits that make him such a horrible man is how egoistic he is, so he will keep you, even if you don't want to. He'll keep pushing you away and locking the doors so you can't run. Tomorrow he'll burn the suitcase, he is not letting you get this far ever again. 

A glimmer of guilt sits at the bottom of his stomach, a useless feeling. It only means he needs to get inside of you soon, fill himself with the love he so little deserves and fill yourself with empty lies of eternal love.

He grips your thighs, urging you to jump on his hips. You resist for a second too long and he slaps your asscheek making you jump with a whimper.

“I'm gonna make you feel good, love. I'm sorry. I'll make it worth it, I promise.” He says, still biting your neck. The towel around his hips falls at some point, not that he cares; it would get in the way anyway. Just as much as your clothes are, he doesn't bother to let you back on the floor to take them off. He simply grabs the material and rips it on your crotch leaving your cunt exposed. 

He is still standing, he doesn't want you to be able to rely on any support, he wants you to feel that if you don't grab him you'll fall, he wants you to need him just as much as he needs you. He slips his hand behind you, getting a finger inside of you making you whimper as you hide your face on his neck; clinging onto him and he loves it. 

This is how he wants you, desperate for him. Just like he is for you. At his disposal, just for him.

He can feel the wetness dripping down his fingers, he knows he should add more fingers before sinking you on his dick, but he wants to feel you stretch around his dick, moulding yourself just for him, shaping your insides only for him.

You bite his shoulder when he does and he smiles, loving it, he needs it. He needs the pain you inflict on him when he is like this, the bites on his shoulders, the scratches on his back, the kicks on his lower back, all of it. He deserves, he deserves much more. You could sink a knife into his shoulder, cut him to his hip dragging the blade and he would still feel you need to do more.

He is so horrible to you, he knows he hurts you, and he wishes you could hurt him back, let him know what is like. But you never do, because you are too good to hurt the man you love and it only makes him want you to hurt him more. 

He grabs your hips hard, making you bounce on his dick, the room filling with your moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin. There are no more thoughts inside his head, already forgetting the faces of those men who died today, already forgetting their names. This is why he needs you, it would consume him alive if it wasn't for you. He needs you.

You cling to him, moaning his name, you mind forgetting his harsh words already only being able to focus on the way his dick is hitting so deep inside of you. 

He makes sure to go round after round, his seed spilling out of you making him grunt. He should get you pregnant, stuck with him for real that way, forever.

It's only when you can no longer talk that he gets in the bed with you, hugging you tightly, too afraid you'll think about leaving again. 

It's usually at this point he can finally relax, go to sleep and forget about the nightmares his days have been.

But a new nightmare arises when he says, “I love you” and you answer “I know”.

Tomorrow, he is burning your suitcase and he is tying you to the bed. Enough playing around with him, he is here, and you don't need to go anywhere. 

Shouts, sex and apologies. That's the cycle.

And that will remain the same.

Whether you want it or not.

This was my first try at writing something more dark-ish. I'm not really sure if it even classifies as it, but. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway 🩷🩷

@waiting-so-long this is what you have done to me. I don't know if this fits the vision you had but I hope you enjoy it my dear! 🩷🩷

@sgtgarricks here you have it as well, wait no more 🩷🩷

T-List: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @lunari0 @dukeofjjune @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @dilara-del @multifandomheathenannie @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago   @tooloudarts

[droserapetals]

Arranged Marriage

Pairing: Naoya x (f!)reader

Synopsis: You are forced to marry the one and only Naoya Zenin, ruthless leader of the Zenin clan. You try to make an escape from you’re fate, but let’s see how far that gets you.

Content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, power dynamic, size difference, arranged marriage, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with this wackadoodle), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, body betrayal, biting, blood, praise, swearing, pet names (doll/princess/love/baby), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, reader gets hunted, reader was is a virgin, reader and Naoya are adults (obviously).

————————————————————————

————————————————————————

Naoya lets out a frustrated shout as you ran, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits as he watches you with a look of pure, unhinged fury. *How dare you? You think you could get away from me that easily?* His fists clench and unclench, shaking on his wrists. *You belong to me.*

You can barely feel the rocks and sticks scratching at your legs and bare feet as you maneuver through the the foliage of the desolate forest as quickly as you can manage. You’re Trying to create as much distance from you and the angry man behind you as possible.

How did you end up like this? Well for starters, your father sold you off to the Zenin clan after being offered a hefty lump some of money. Figures, that slimy-cheap bastard.

It wasn’t long before your beauty was taken notice by the green-haired man referred to as Naoya Zenin. His eyes hooded in a predatory hunger as his gaze raked over your frame, lingering at your pillow soft lips. He would make you his. He was sure of that.

As soon as you entered the estate, you were immediately forced in a scratchy white gown, a few sizes too small, breasts almost spilling out of the heart line top, and sent to his chambers without even as much as a word of having a wedding reception beforehand. Not that you wanted that anyway.

As soon as the lords escorts walk you up to his door and knock, they begin to walk away, not wanting to stick around for what they could imagine will come about you shortly after your arrival to the lords chambers.

As soon as the men round the corner, your head whips back around to the sound of the door in front of you squeaking open slowly.

In that moment you don’t think. You run.

So here you are, running away from your so called “husband” you’ve never even properly met on your technically phrased “honeymoon night.”

You barely hear the crickets chirping from a unknown distance through the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. You don’t even know where you are going, much less where you are. You were blindfolded upon arrival. The Zenin clan is very discrete on there whereabouts to avoid their rivals showing up… unannounced. Even though your odds are slim at obtaining your own freedom, you just keep on moving, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Naoya follows, moving at a frightening speed. His footsteps travel hastily through the forest, his movements swift and precise like a predator hunting down its prey. The trees rustle, the bushes crack, the leaves crinkling as he maneuvers through them.

Naoya is getting closer. He’ll find you. You are his.

The hem of your long skirt snags against a root protruding from the forest floor, and you are briefly stuck. You curse, yanking your skirt and tearing a good chunk of it in the process. You stagger forward.

Your legs are starting to cramp and you’re beginning to get light headed. Not good. You can’t remember the last full meal or glass of water you’ve had since being brought to that estate, and it seems to be catching up with you now. You stumble across a hollow log by a creek and hurry to dive in it. Trying to catch your breath as you hide. Your lungs are burning and your hands can’t stop trembling, and you can only hope that the running sounds of water flowing downstream covers the shallow gasps you are making to collect yourself.

Naoya scans the distance, his breath coming quickly and heavy. He sniffs the air. “Come out now love, I can smell your fear.” He licks his lips. “If you come to my feet now and beg to be forgiven I might consider going easy on you.” He can’t help himself from getting a little hard at the thought of you resisting his advances. As troublesome as it may be. He groans. His gaze moves to the trees and bushes, to the creek that flows nearby. “Where is she…” He whispers, his expression darkening. Every second that passes is agony for him. He’s so close to having you back in his grasp, to making you his.

You hold your breath as you hear him getting closer. Your hands covering your mouth. Then, after what feels like an eternity, it sounds like footsteps are receding. You can’t help but feel a small wave of relief wash over you. Freedom feeling more obtainable than before. You wait a second more before slowly crawling out of the log, and assessing your next move.

As you shimmy all the way out, you get on your feet. All you can hear is the quiet rustle of the leaves. The breeze blows through your hair, causing some wisps to suspend in the air briefly. The feeling could be described as calming and ethereal if not given the circumstances. Wait, weren’t there crickets chirping a second ago?

Now it’s eerily quiet.

You freeze as you feel a pair of eyes on you. You hesitantly look up and almost choke. You see a dark shadow with glowing orbs looking down on your cowering form predatorily. You can’t see but only sense the triumphant smirk they have on their face, camouflaged by the shadows.

"Found you."

You stumble back in fear at the sound of the deep growl of the voice above and try to scramble away on all fours. “No!”

Naoya leaps off the tree branch with a heavy thud and quickly grabs you, his grip tight as he pulls you back toward him effectively pinning you to the forest floor. “You’re not going anywhere.” He growls, his expression darkening. He leans over you, his scent invading your nostrils, as his lips trace down your neck to your collarbone. His breath is hot and heavy, like he’s excited.

“Don’t you think it’d be better to just give in now?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping this is all just a sick and twisted dream you can wake up from. When that doesn’t work, you try shouting. “Help! Please, someone hel- mmph!“

Naoya clamps a hand over your mouth before you can get a word out. His grip is tight, his hand large and overbearing. "No one can hear us out here," He mutters, his voice low and menacing. "Save your breath."

His hand trails down your back, down until he meets your thigh. His gaze trails down to your legs, and his mouth curls into a satisfied grin. "I’ve finally caught you. I can do whatever I want with you now."

____________________________________________

“All that screaming and crying… for nothing,” Naoya tsks, tone mocking as he throws you onto his soft duvet, not bothering with the dirt and grime caking your frame. Not as much so, but he is fairly disheveled himself. Some dampened strands of his emerald locks matted to his head from your guys’… “escapade” earlier, and a bead of sweat could be seen falling and disappearing behind the collar of his button-up shirt. He now makes his way over to you, crawling on the bed at all fours with eyes that are hooded in rage… and lust.

As he hovers over you, he lifts his head to give you a condescending grin. “You still ended up here with me. So much for getting away, huh?” There’s an underlying bitterness to his words. Like he’s upset you tried to leave him at all.

You look away, willing myself not to cry. *I’m stronger than that.* “I can’t be with you, Naoya. I won’t stop until I can escape here and you.” You now look up at him defiantly.

“Escape?” Naoya asks the question as though he hasn’t heard it a thousand times before. He rises from the bed, letting his eyes run across your body. “Escape…?” He leans closer to you and takes a finger and gently runs it along your collarbone. He can see the desperation in your eyes. How you struggle to keep from crying.

You try not to shiver at his touch but fail miserably. “What do you want from me. Why choose to marry me of all people?” Your lower lip quivers slightly.

His touch lingers, taking in every detail of your skin. He leans forward. His breath is hot and his eyes are predatory as he glares at you. “You of all people?” He asks the question as though you should already know the answer. His hands trail down your body, his fingers inching toward the hem of your dress, toward the fabric that hides what he wants so desperately.

You squeak in embarrassment. Pressing your legs together so he can’t reach any further. “Naoya, stop!”

“Stop?” Naoya raises an eyebrow, his expression dark. His voice is a dangerous, husky whisper. “No, I think I’ll continue.” It’s a threat, a promise.

A tear finally escapes and runs down your cheek quietly as you look up at him, a faint blush on your cheeks.

Naoya’s lips part, taking in the sight of you crying as his mouth twists into a satisfied grin. “What a pretty sight.” He says, his voice still low and threatening. He looks at the tear that trails down your cheek, taking in its beauty like a predator savoring its prey.

He leans forward to wipe away the tear, to brush his lips against your wet skin.

You hold back a moan lodged in your throat and shudder. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction that your responding to his touch. You look away from him and bite your lip defiantly.

Naoya laughs softly, his hand trailing behind your head as his fingers twine around your hair. You can almost feel his gaze, raking down your body and taking what he wants just by staring. Your attempts at defiance don’t faze him.

“Such a stubborn girl,” He whispers, his tone low and harsh. He leans forward, his lips right beside your ear. “But I’ll break you.”

You hide your whimper by scoffing lightly. You attempt to push him off of you, but to no success. He doesn’t even budge. His frame towers over yours, and you know if he wanted he could crush your windpipe single handily without a second thought. That realization makes you gulp.

Naoya’s grip tightens around your hair as you try to get away. His mouth traces your jawline as his eyes glisten in the low light. “You don’t want this?” He asks, feigning surprise. But the arousal in his eyes says otherwise.

You give up trying to push him off and a groan escapes your throat at him pulling your hair before you could contain it. “Naoya please. I’m a… virgin.” You look away again. Face getting hot and heat spreading down to the lower parts of you to your dismay.

Naoya freezes, his grip loosening as he looks at you. Your lack of experience seems to both please and intrigue him. “That can change,” Naoya mutters. His lips trail down your neck, and his hands move from your hair to your waist, gripping you firmly.

“W-what do you mean by that?” You look at him through your long lashes with a clueless doe-like expression.

Naoya grins at you. You’re so cute and you don’t even realize it. “Exactly what you *think* I mean,” He whispers, bringing you in closer. Your breath catches in your throat as he presses his body against yours. A wave of heat washes over you as you feel his hard bulge resting over your lower tummy.

It throbs at the clothed contact, causing Naoya to fling his head back and let out a low groan.

You whimper at the sight. Hating the way he has this level of control over you. You feel like a butterfly caught in a sticky web that is Naoya Zenin. Your body betrays you and relaxes a little, enough for him to take notice.

He looks back down at you pointedly. “Good girl. That’s it, relax for me.” Naoya grunts as he pulls you close to him, hand trailing to the waistband of your panties and teases the skin there. He kisses your neck and bites gently at your skin. He wants you to moan for him. To give him what he wants. To give him control. Your body betrays you, wanting him to claim you.

You keen and rub your thighs together, hoping to ease the growing ache there. You run your hands hesitantly town his torso and blush at the feeling of his hard muscles straining through the fabric.

Naoya smirks as he hears your moans. “You like this?” He asks the question as though he doesn’t know the answer. The heat he feels from you makes his heart pound. He pulls back to face you, his eyes meeting yours and his breath hot on your skin.

I bite my lip and slowly nod up at him. “Please, Naoya…”

Naoya chuckles. Your begging is pleasing. Your desperation. It’s amusing how eager you are for him. “Please…” Naoya mocks, his tone amused. “Pretty please.” He leans in so you can feel his presence. His breath is hot and his fingers trail along your thighs.

You gasp as he inches closer to your aching core. Craving his touch even more.

He finally hovers over your clothed cunt, the fabric visibly growing wetter the longer he looks at it.

He leans in till his nose nudges your puffy clit inhaling deep into your scent. Growling deep in his throat, the sound vibrating in your chest.

You try to squirm away out of embarrassment but his hands hold your hips firm, keeping you in place.

Naoya’s eyes are lazily hooded and he grins as he watches you squirm and moan. Your thighs are like putty in his hands. He’s in control. He’s the hunter and you’re his delectable prey.

You half-heartedly try to pull away a little. Lust clouding your senses and rational thinking. “We shouldn’t do this” you say, trying to regain your composure to the best of your ability.

Naoya narrows his eyes at you. Your attempt at defiance only makes him smirk. “Shouldn’t do this?” He asks, feigning surprise. “Who says we shouldn’t? You’re my wife now. This is the only way to… seal the deal.”

You gulp at his words, and before you can process what’s happening he grips both of your thighs in his rough hands, spreads them as far as they could go, and rips your panties off of you in one fluid motion. Not wasting any time, he flattens his tongue, and licks a long stripe down from your rim to your clit and back down again.

Your head falls back into the pillows as you let out a startled moan. He smirks into your heat and quickens his pace. Spitting on it to dive down and lick it all up again. Not letting any of your juices go to waste.

“You taste so good, love. I don’t know how I’ve gone so long without a pussy like this.” He groans into your crotch, sending vibrations to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips begin to buck into his mouth involuntarily, your orgasm already approaching fast. Your wines getting more high pitched indicating to Naoya that you were close.

He lets a couple seconds come and go before he halts his movements, sitting up and licking his lips all the while a feline like grin spreads over his face.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and annoyance as your orgasm slowly fades away.

He chuckles at your expression, “Maybe next time I’ll cater to your needs, but tonight, this is strictly for my own pleasure.”

His eyes grow dark as he is quick to rip off the remainder of your dress, your breasts springing free with a single bounce.

His expression gets even hungrier if that’s possible, as he takes over your fully nude frame. You try to cover yourself up but he’s quick to pin your arms over your head with a single hand.

He chides you, “Tsk tsk. Don’t get shy on me now. You’re lucky it’s your first time and I’m feeling a little generous towards my lovely wife on our wedding night. I’ll go a little gentler on you than expected.”

His long thick fingers trail over your slit and his middle finger slowly starts to push into your entrance.

You hiss in pain, tears streaming down your face freely now and he’s quick to lick them up one by one, easing his finger in more in the process.

“Shh. Just breathe. You’ll be alright, love.”

You take a couple shaky breaths in your nose and out your mouth and he begins to pull his finger back out, only to plunge it back in.

You cry out, but the more he moves and curls his finger inside of you the more it starts to feel…good. Really good.

He then adds two more fingers and makes a scissoring motion inside of you, feeling achingly sweet.

It’s not long before your skin flushes a beautiful pink and you start getting light headed, a panting mess.

For what feels like just couple more seconds, he quickly withdraws his hand and laps at his digits. Cleaning your juices off of him and the tinge of blood along with it.

You’re beginning to get into a state where you are feeling loopy and delirious. Probably from the plethora of emotions you’ve been subjected to in such a short period of time.

Naoya brings you back to earth slightly by leaning in and placing his lips on yours, letting you taste him and yourself. You greedily suck at his tongue and drag your nails through his hair. Earning you a growl from the back of his throat.

“Stop doing that or I’ll finish before I set out to complete what I’ve started.” You let go and rest your hands on his chest briefly before fisting them into the sheets below you both instead.

“Good girl, now I warmed you up good for me, but it’s still going to sting a little… so be prepared for that,” he says, eyes never leaving yours.

He makes quick work at unbuttoning his slacks, and slides down his black boxer briefs until his erection springs free. Not bothering to take the rest of his clothes off.

You feel your eyes almost bulge out of your head and you subconsciously try to wiggle out of his grasp. He was TOO big.

His grip on you tightens as he smirks cockily at your reaction. “Don’t worry darling, we’ll make it fit.”

His cock was practically dripping with pre cum, and the head an angry read throbbing to be touched. He was thick and long, the girth alone just shy from the size of your forearm.

You try to take deep breaths and relax as he brings the tip of his cock to your folds, brushing it up and down to collect some of your slick that has accumulated there. Then, you feel him nudging at your entrance.

You bite your lip hard as he slowly eases his way into your tight walls, squeezing his shaft hard already.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed through his teeth and lays down on top of you to rest his elbows on either side of your head, forcing his cock the rest of the way in.

You taste a metallic tang in your mouth and realized you drew blood from biting your lip so hard. Naoya notices and drags his tongue over the mark, soothing the cut while remaining still as he now bottoms out inside you.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. I will make sure you’re rewarded for your good behavior.”

He then slowly pulls out about half way, before easing himself back inside of you.

Your eyes screw shut at the burning sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, but then you feel a coil deep inside of you start to make its way to the surface.

It still stings, of course, but overriding that you begin to feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Naoya was keeping a close eye on your reactions this whole time, and as soon as he felt your walls fluttering around him and your hips beginning to buck against him, wanting more, he increases his pace.

He now pulls almost all the way out and slams back into you at a punishing pace. You scream at the sudden increase in pleasure and your hands fly to his hair again to claw and yank at his soft locks.

He groans lowly at your actions, and grabs your legs in one swift motion to put them over his shoulders. Arms now propped up to support the added weight with ease.

His jaw flexes in concentration not to cum prematurely, but just seeing the way your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and the drool leaving your lips, he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

This new angle was causing his swollen tip to kiss you cervix with each trust and massage your gummy walls in all the right places. You could feel yourself approaching your orgasm fast as well.

Naoya grabs your chin before you’re completely drunk off his cock, “ Look at me, love. I’m right here.” He grunts, patting your cheek rough enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Nao-ah~! I’m c-close.” You wine. You sound so desperate now. Just having tunnel vision for your impending release.

And that sets Naoya off. He’s slamming into you now at a brutal pace, not caring to make sure you could take it. He’s gripping your hips so hard now that it will for sure leave bruises in the morning.

“Oh baby, I’m close too. Come for me now. Please. I need to feel you milking me as I breed this pussy.”

You don’t catch the last part as that coil in your lower abdomen snaps and you feel the white hot pleasure of your orgasm crashing down at you with full force. You don’t know if your sobbing or blubbering or shrieking at the feeling. Maybe all three. You’ve never felt this kind of intense pleasure in your life.

Naoya isn’t that far behind, he soon reaches his own climax and sends ropes of warm gooey cum into your pussy, his pace stuttering but not stopping till he’s filling you up to the hilt in his cum.

After the pleasure subsides a bit, you are able to ground yourself a bit and take in your surroundings.

The room is lavish, dim candles flickering on the night stands between you. You are currently laying a king bed centered in a large room. Naoyas room. Clad with a dark velvet obsidian bedspread.

You look above you to see Naoya with his brows furrowed and breath fanning your face, still inside you coming down from his high as well. He then withdraws slowly from you and flops beside you on the large bed. Letting out a long sigh from his bruised lips.

You try to ignore the pooling feeling of his cum seeping out of you as curl away from him, hugging your own frame.

He doesn’t say a word, but lifts the covers out from underneath the both of you and drapes the sheets over you and himself. He then glances over to you briefly before sprawling out on his side of the bed, finding sleep soon. The bed you’ll be sharing from now on. You’re his wife now, no matter how much you didn’t want to be. He will make sure you come to know that.

[wileycap]

The Stupidest Things In Netflix's Avatar The Last Airbender: A List

a.k.a.

a whiny rant from someone who has dedicated far too many of their already limited number of braincells to atla i know it's just a tv show but come on this is what tumblr is for let me whine

For your consideration, with many spoilers:

5. Katara Being Smug After Kicking Jet's Ass

In the original, Katara is betrayed by Jet. You can feel the raw emotion in the words "I trusted you! You're sick, and I trusted you!" immediately followed by her concern for the innocent people Jet has seemingly murdered. It's not a triumph, it's a wound, and the next time she sees Jet, her first reaction is "kill on sight".

This is great. It's heartwrenching, it's humanizing, and Katara using violence against Jet isn't a victory for her. It's just pain.

In the live action, Katara very mildly chastises Jet for trying to kill innocent people, which is... an interesting characterization for her, to say the least. Jet then tries to grab her, immediately followed by Katara throwing him and freezing him. She then just tells him goodbye. Her tone is placid, almost unaffected.

And then Jet says "Look at the power you have. That's because of me!"

Katara: "That wasn't you. That was me."

And then she strides off with a small smile, and that's the end of that. Sokka and Aang are not present. It's an incredibly hokey moment that's meant to emulate the style of feminine empowerment, but it has none of the substance. It glosses over any human feelings of hurt and betrayal. All that the it ends up doing is removing a story beat for Katara.

4. The Badgermoles

"They're blind! They sense feelings and react to them! Anger, fear... but mostly love."

Katara and Sokka hold hands in a cave and it makes the badgermole stop attacking them.

The blind badgermoles. Navigate by... love.

Yeah.

Do I need to say anything? Can we all see (pun intended) how stupid that is?

3. Bumi Makes Aang Choose Between Killing Him Or Letting Himself Die To Make The Dumbest Point Imaginable

Remember Bumi? Aang's old friend, a fun, kooky king? Well, here he's an actual fucking psychopath.

He collapses part of the roof onto Aang, and Aang holds it up with airbending. Another part of the roof collapses on Bumi, and Bumi just... shrugs his shoulders, fully intending to die. Aang holds that one up as well, and Bumi, instead of helping, makes the dumbest fucking point I've ever heard about "making tough choices", and urges Aang to let the boulder crush him.

Again. Bumi, the fun, wise king, wants Aang to kill him.

The situation is defused by Katara freezing a little strip on the floor so that Sokka can very slowly slide on it and tackle Bumi to safety. I can not emphasize how slow his slide is. Running would have been faster. Bumi has time to look at him and say "Huh?" as Sokka slowly slides across the floor. Oh, yeah, they were led onto the scene by the love-sensing badgermoles.

Then it's Aang's turn to be dumb. He says "you CAN rely on your friends" and hands Bumi a friendship rock. Bumi is pacified for now, but there is no telling when his next Saw trap will activate.

This made me actually feel bad. I just. I kept expecting for it to turn into a secret lesson, like Bumi in the original show, but it never did. Bumi's just a spiteful psychopath who is easily swayed by the gifting of rocks.

2. Koh The Face-Stealer Has A Backstory Now

Why? Mother of Faces? What? No.

No.

Iroh Is Intimidated By Zhao, And Then He Kills Zhao

Ah, Live Action Iroh. The most ineffectual man on the planet.

So, Zhao has the Moon Koi in a bag, and is ready to stab it with his special stabbing implement. Iroh is standing right behind him. RIGHT BEHIND HIM. Iroh has been there the whole time. Iroh does not want Zhao to kill the fish.

Iroh says: "Whatever you do to that spirit, I'll unleash on you tenfold!"

Remember how in the original, where that was like a big, shocking moment that he got angry? And how Zhao immediately let go of the fish, only to then have his anger get the best of him? How Zhao attacked the spirit by surprise?

Well, here it's a little different. For one, like I already said, Iroh doesn't come in suddenly, he sort of gets bullied into looking for the spirit by Zhao. Then he looks for the spirit, and after Zhao finds it, then he decides that he really has a problem with killing the spirit. He did protest before, but then he kind of just caved and helped anyways.

He threatens Zhao, and Zhao just... brushes him off. "Spare me your empty threats." Then the firebenders next to Iroh sort of... glower at him menacingly, and Iroh looks worried.

Zhao offers Iroh a place at his side once he becomes Fire Lord, which, uh? Okay. Fine. I actually don't have a problem with Zhao wanting to be Fire Lord, that seems to be entirely on brand for him, but everything he does to get to that goal is just stupid.

Aang arrives, they talk, Aang says "I don't matter", and then Iroh, who has sidled past the Glowering Firebenders Who Do Nothing Else, shoots the fish out of Zhao's hands. And then, as Zhao is on the ground, reaching for the fish with his special stabbing implement, Iroh forgets that he can shoot fire out of his hands, and lets Zhao stab the fish.

AND THEN Iroh, who literally stood by two different times and let Zhao kill the fish, decides to kick everyone's ass. And the Glowering Firebenders do nothing. One of them just stands in the background. Iroh doesn't even attack that guy.

In the original, Iroh immediately leaps into action after Zhao kills the spirit by means of surprise attack, takes out Zhao's guards in about a second, and Zhao escapes.

Here, he doesn't do anything at first except help Zhao find the spirit he doesn't want to see killed, then back down, then do something, then back down again, then do something again, then forget that he can do anything, and then he does something again.

It's just... so dumb. (So dumb it's brilliant!) No! It's just dumb!

And then, fifteen minutes later, after Zuko has dueled Zhao, Iroh kills him. Iroh just barbecues him by striking him from behind. Gee, Iroh, if you were willing to do that, why not just do it when Zhao was holding the fish?

Dishonorable mentions:

The fact that all of the actors fit their characters so well and have some great moments, but the show just doesn't support their performances at all. I feel so bad for all of them, being robbed of a chance to shine by some truly awful writing, editing and direction

The Ocean Spirit making Godzilla noises

June flirting with Iroh (didn't they say that they wanted to remove iffy stuff from the original? Well, that whole thing was iffy in the original. Why didn't you cut it entirely?)

Zuko doing the jazz hands to charge an attack

All the clunky and unnecessary exposition (for example: after Aang turns into the Ocean Spirit, Yue immediately turns to Sokka and narrates that Aang has turned into the Ocean Spirit, for almost 30 seconds)

The fact that Aang can only communicate with each Avatar at their shrines

The Ice Moon

The Cabbage Man literally turning to shout his line to the heavens while fire rages around him

The Secret Tunnel song being shoehorned in for no reason

Iroh's entire backstory being shoehorned in for no reason

Ozai being a caring dad actually

Zuko being shocked that Ozai prefers Azula

Gran Gran's speech

The fact that they showed Gyatso being killed by Sozin (literally nobody needed a big action scene, because that's what it was, predicated entirely on the genocide of the Air Nomads)

And finally, the fact that Sokka and Yue's reason for going to the Spirit Oasis is that Momo was fatally injured.

[flynnriderishot]

hi love! could you write something about chris being mean (in a joking manner) to the reader always, but only because he doesn’t know how to deal with his real feeling of liking her, then one day, when hes being very mean and ignoring her, he angry confesses.

i hope i explained well, ly!

angry confessions - c.s

a/n: hear me out, okay? i read your request once and ran with it and when i came back to read it again i realized that i may have went a little off your original idea. i’m so sorry 😭 i hope you like it !

chris walked from his bedroom, his blue eyes almost immediately landing on your figure.

yours and chris’ relationship was weird. for starters: you didn’t have one.

you were extremely close with his brothers, doing nearly everything together, but you and chris never really had much of a connection.

he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but watching you and matt or even you and nick made his heart clench in jealousy. he knew that your relationship with them was completely platonic, but it rubbed him the wrong way to see you with anyone but him.

of course, he didn’t plan on telling you that. he couldn’t grasp the thought of having feelings for you. it scared him halfway to death.

you were sat on the couch with matt and nick, the three of you playing some random multiplayer game on your phones.

chris made his way to the kitchen to grab a drink, his footsteps alerting everyone of his presence.

“he’s alive.” nick spoke up.

“shut up.” chris scoffed, opening his pepsi before moving to sit with you guys.

just before he sat down, his hand lifts to playfully swat at the back of your head.

“what the fuck?!” you shouted, standing up as your eyes never once left your phone screen.

matt began to shout out in excitement, “oh! oh! i won!”

“bullshit.”

“why’d you do that?” you turn towards chris, frustration clear in your voice.

“sorry.” he shrugged, knowing there wasn’t much he could do about your loss but at least he had your attention.

you weren’t mad. you were used to chris’ odd behavior towards you. you didn’t know why, but you never questioned it.

you just assumed that’s how he treated every girl he knew.

hell, you’ve seen the way he’d jokingly make fun of madi. while he was a little less aggressive towards her, you thought that maybe it was because she was a lot more sensitive than you.

•••

“what the hell are you doing here?”

you perked up at the sound of his voice, “nick and i are hanging out.”

“again? that’s like the fourth time this week.”

he seemed annoyed at the thought you hanging out with his brother again.

“we’re going to a party. you can come with us if you want?” you suggested, not wanting him to feel left out.

chris furrowed his brows, “no, i’m good. last thing i want to do is be around you.”

your face fell. what the hell is his problem?

before you could respond and question his hostility, nick comes running down stairs,

“you ready to go?”

“yeah, let’s go.” you stood up from your seat, quickly exiting the house with an oblivious nick in tow.

as chris watched you and nick leave, he couldn’t help but silently scold himself.

“what the hell is wrong with me?”

“well for starters, you’re talking to yourself. that might be a sign that you have some problems…”

chris slowly turned towards matt, “shut the fuck up.”

•••

being sober had its perks.

the first being that you wouldn’t be drunk off your ass and wake up with the absolute worst headache ever. but it also meant that you wouldn’t accidentally catch yourself doing anything out of your usual character.

like nick, who was currently conversing with two people you could have sworn he despised.

now, you would have stopped him but you were currently caught up in a conversation with one of the few non intoxicated people at this party.

he was cute, he was nice and (so far) it seemed like his intentions were pure.

so why did you feel so weird speaking to him?

luckily and unlucky for you, your question was about to be answered.

•••

“hurry up!”

chris ignored matt’s words, slamming the passenger door shut as he ran towards the front door of the house that held you, his older brother and apparently his competition.

it took less than a minute for him to find nick. the elder triplet stood out regardless of where he was or what he was doing. so once he found him chris immediately pushed through the group of people that surrounded him and demanded that he went to go meet matt back at the car.

nick gave no protests, commenting how everyone there was lame, much to chris’ luck.

finding you was a little harder but thanks to the video of one of his mutual followers, he was able to find the vase from the video in the house he was in.

despite his mood, chris’ eyes softened slightly at the sight of your bright smile until he realized it wasn’t him that you were smiling at.

approaching you, he didn’t dare give a glance at the boy in front of you,

“we’re leaving. let’s go.”

“woah. what?” you turned in confusion, your y/e/c landing on him. “chris, what are you doing here?”

“let’s go.”

he seemed desperate to leave. you didn’t know why he showed up but you couldn’t help but be concerned.

“okay. let me find nick.”

“he’s in the car.” he said, “let’s go.”

“okay! can you relax?”

“yeah, dude. chill.”

chris’ jaw clenched, “don’t fucking talk to me.”

“chris—”

“can we leave?”

“yes, okay. go.” you ushered him away, quickly turning to the guy you were previously speaking to, “i’m so sorry.”

•••

“are you good?” you asked chris the second you exited the loud house.

“no, i’m not. why were you talking to him?”

“i was making a friend, chris.” you chuckled awkwardly.

“a friend? didn’t seem like that to me. i mean, you’re in the back of someone’s instagram story laughing your ass off like he’s the funniest person alive. what’s that about?”

you’ve never been so confused in your life. just a few hours ago, he was telling you how he wanted nothing to do with you. and now he was getting upset because you were talking to someone? it made no sense.

“chris—“

“i don’t want talking to him anymore.”

“excuse me?”

it seemed as though chris realized how ridiculous his request was but didn’t speak on it.

“where do you get off on telling me what to do? who the hell do you think you are?”

he didn’t say anything.

“you didn’t give a shit about me or what i had going on literally four hours ago and now you suddenly care? why?”

“because—” he stopped himself.

“because? because what, chris? please enlighten me. because gods knows i deserve to understand your reasoning for treating me like shit for the last two years i’ve known you!”

“because i love you!”

you let out a breath, “what?”

“because- because i don’t want to see you with anyone else. because i want to be the person you’re happy with and the person you hate and the person you think about every second of everyday.” he rambled out, “because that’s what you are for me and god, yn, it’s so frustrating having to see you everyday and not have single idea how to tell you how i feel.”

chris was nearly shouting at this point, but he didn’t care. he was finally getting everything off his chest.

“i treated you like shit because having you simply look at me, even if it was in anger or disgust was the highlight of my day. i’ll admit it wasn’t the best idea i’ve ever had but i didn’t care because at least i had your attention.”

“why didn’t you say anything before?“ was the first thing you asked when he finished.

“i didn’t think you’d care.” he scoffed, “i’ve heard your conversations with nick about your celebrity crushes, i know i’m not your type.”

you couldn’t stop the chuckle that fell from you lips, “thats a celebrity crush, chris. i’m never going to meet or see any of those people ever. that means nothing to me.”

he watched you step closer to him.

“a simple ‘i like you’ would have done you wonders. you didn’t have to make matt drive thirty minutes to tell me how you feel.”

he inhaled sharply, his words caught up in his throat as your hand made contact with his cheek.

“if it makes you feel any better…i’m glad you told me how you feel.”

“yeah?”

you nodded, a breathy chuckle leaving your lips, “yeah.”

his eyes darted back and forth between yours, while you focused on his lips.

“can i kiss you, chris?”

“please.”

[writeroutoftime]

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground. 

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body. 

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard. 

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out. 

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred. 

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him. 

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?