#it was hard to breathe and i was told i was pale in the face

[totalswag]

heartbreak — RAFE CAMERON

authors note cheaters suck.

summary a week after finding out your boyfriend cheated on you with a girl from his college, your friends invite you to a bonfire. when rafe finds out about the breakup he gets upset.

warnings cheating, crying, cursing, anger, overprotective!rafe

You sat at the edge of the bed, running your hands through your hair, tears streaming down your face, wondering what you had done to deserve to be treated this way by someone you thought loved you unconditionally.

It started off with you on your bed, phone in hand, browsing instagram. A photo captured your eye and made your stomach sank. It was a photo of Lucas, your boyfriend, with a girl from school. They were at an event at the University of North Carolina, arms around each other and beaming warmly.

Lucas goes to University of North Carolina for school and football; one of the stars on the team. You stayed home at a community college then transfer to a four year afterwards.

Early today, you were scrolling through instagram like you typically do when you have nothing else to do. Your gut told you to go through Lucas following, so you did. Came across a girl name, Emily.

You clicked on her profile, your heart beating faster with each passing second. There were further images of her and Lucas, some more intimate than others. You had a dreadful twist in your gut as you went through the comments and captions.

"You've got to be kidding me" you mumbled under your breath in disbelief in what you were seeing.

Lucas had never mentioned Emily before, certainly not in a way that said they were more than friends. Your eyes began to sting with the fear of tears.

For the past few weeks, your boyfriend, Lucas, of two years has been acting strange towards you and taking hours to respond to your texts and calls. You started feeling like something was up before you went to visit him at college.

Lucas was home for the summer, and you knew you had to approach him about it. You couldn't keep the treachery inside you any longer. You took a long breath to calm yourself down, then texted him to come over. Within an hour, he was at your door, smiling and entirely ignorant of the storm rising inside you.

"Hey, babe," he said, leaning in for a kiss. You moved your head, and his lips brushed across your cheek instead.

"We need to talk," you said, your voice wavering despite your efforts to remain composed.

Lucas frowned, worry lines etched on his brow. "What's wrong?"

What's wrong? You cheating on me.

You opened Instagram, showed him a photo of him with Emily, and watched as his face paled. "Who is she?" you asked, your voice firmer now, rage fueling your resolve.

He knows he's caught.

"She's just a friend," Lucas replied, too soon and defensively. His gaze shifted away from yours, confirming your worst thoughts.

"A friend?" You could hear disbelief in your own voice. "Friends do not look at each other like that. Friends don't hide anything from their girlfriends."

Lucas gulped hard and ran a hand over his hair. "Look, it's not as you think. We...came close, but it didn't mean anything."

"Didn't mean anything?" You reverberated, your voice increasing. "Did you sleep with her?"

He paused, his gaze catching yours for a brief, painful moment before moving away. "Yes," he said quietly, the word like a stab to the heart.

Two years down the drain.

You felt the tears well up, but you didn't bother to brush them away. "How could you, Lucas?" "How could you do this to us?"

"Did I mean nothing to you? Two years of us being together mean nothing Lucas? I can't believe what I'm hearing from you" you ramble with tears falling from your face.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "That was a mistake. "I was drunk, and I wasn't thinking clearly."

"That doesn't make it okay," you said, your voice breaking. "You betrayed me."

Lucas leaned out to touch your arm, but you backed away, shaking your head. "I need you to leave," you murmured in a hollow voice. "I can't even look at you right now."

He simply nodded, knowing better than to dispute. "I'm so sorry," he said as he walked out the door, leaving you alone with your broken trust.

When you heard the front door close, you collapsed onto your bed blanket, shedding all of your tears. You never thought this would happen to you.

A week after the break up you've barely left your house; you wore comfy clothes around the house, ate, showered, cried, and cried.

Your friends texted you, wondering where you had been for the previous week. You needed to tell them since they knew you well enough to notice when you go missing for an extended period of time.

He doesn't deserve you.

He's a piece of shit.

Who does he think he is.

Later that night, as you sat cuddled up in bed, your phone vibrated with a message. It came from your friend Mia.

Mia: hey, there's a bonfire on the beach tonight. you should come. It'll help you get your mind off things.

You paused for a moment before deciding what to do. Anything was preferable to sitting in your room, rehashing the awful break up with Lucas over and over.

The beach was bustling with laughing and the crackling of a bonfire. You found friends quickly and attempted to immerse yourself in their presence.

When your bare feet touched the sand, you felt your body relax. Maybe coming here was a good idea.

"Hey, Y/N," Mia says with a grin, "I'm glad you made it, how are you doing?" She asks, concerned, examining your face for an answer.

"I'm alright just still getting over the break up" you stutter with your words, "this will help me get my mind off it."

Mia smiles, taking your hand, leading you to everyone else.

After thirty minutes, you've had one drink of Truly, talked with your friends, and are now sitting on the log, drowning in your thoughts after hearing Lucas' name mentioned.

"Hey, are you okay?" a familiar voice inquired, jolting you out of your thoughts. You turned to see Rafe Cameron, a close family friend, staring at you with concern. 

Rafe Cameron has been one of your closest friends since middle school. You moved into the area a few houses down from Tannyhill.

You managed a feeble smile. "I'm fine," you lied.

Rafe lifted an eyebrow, obviously not buying it. "Come on, let's take a walk."

You followed him down the beach, the waves calming in the backdrop. Rafe came to a halt and turned to face you once you were a safe distance away from the flames. "What's going on?"

The dam had broken, and you found yourself telling him everything. About Lucas and Emily, about treachery and pain. Rafe listened quietly, his expression darkening with each word.

"That asshole," he mumbled when you finished. "I've never liked him." He does not deserve you.

You stared up at him, taken aback by the passion in his voice. "Rafe, it is not worth it. "He's not worth it."

He shook his head, his jaw tightened. "No one should be able hurt you without consequences. "He needs to learn a lesson."

"Rafe, please," you begged. "Violence won't solve anything."

He took a big breath, clearly attempting to relax himself. "You're right," he finally replied. "But it irritates me that he treated you like this. You deserve to be valued, not taken for granted.

"Thank you," you said quietly, taking some comfort from his words. "I just...I just need to move on from this."

"You will," Rafe replied firmly. "And I'll be here to assist you get through it. Always."

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[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

TATTOOS

┏━━━━ ☙ ☪ ☙ ━━━━┓

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is your friend and your crush since childhood. On a hot summer day, you couldn't take away your eyes from his tattoos.

WARNINGS: none, no spoilers, no explicit sexual content, and no vulgar language, just mild nudity I guess?

┗━━━━ ☙ ☪ ☙ ━━━━┛

Chapter 1

It was a very cliche summer day in Hawkings, too hot to do anything and go somewhere.

You and your friend since kindergarten, Eddie Munson, were at your little yellow house in Lover's Lake.

Sitting under the shadow of the porch, you were reading a poetry book while he was on the pier, throwing stones on the flat surface of the lake, making them bounce.

It's better to say that you were pretending to read, a hard task since Eddie, due to the heat, has discarded his black t-shirt, remaining only in his torn jeans.

You couldn't help yourself to watch his pale back, the expanse of white skin in contrast with his dark curls and his muscles shifting and contracting with each throw.

If only you believed in God you would have thanked him for making Eddie Munson that way, you loved him since third grade but It was a secret only you knew, no whispered confessions at pajama parties or to the pages of your diary.

Your book was long forgotten as you tried to take a peek at your best friend's tattoos, sure, you saw them before, but closely only the ones on his right arm.

After a lucky throw, Eddie called you.

"Y/N! Did you see that? It bounced about seven times before sinking! Damn, I'm learning how to do this, sweetheart!" he said turning around.

You thanked your reflexes because, by the time he was fully turned, your volume was in front of your face.

"Oh, sorry Eddie! I was reading a poem" you responded trying to be believable and apologetic.

He melted in a kind smile, and ran a hand between his hair, combing some strands that were sticking to his forehead.

"I hate to ask you, Y/N-" he commenced "but there's a possibility that I could steal one of your father's beers? I'm dying of thirst and he made his best puppy eyes.

The truth is that he doesn't even have to try hard.

"If you're thirsty, drink some water," you said playfully, not raising your gaze from the pages.

"You know? you're no fun Y/L/N" Eddie said laughing.

You closed your book and stood up from the wooden stairs and gestured to him to follow you inside.

He entered your kitchen and leaned against the counter, arms crossed while you opened the fridge looking for a beer.

You couldn't see him, but he was peering at you, the way your tank top raised on your back when you leaned down, the curve of your waist, how those shorts were fitting you well.

Twisting around you found Eddie staring back at you, but your eyes were glued to the tattoos below his collarbone.

A sly smirk appeared on your friend's features.

"You just have to ask, if you want to see them" he teased you.

"I-I just... Sorry, it's that I don't know many people with tattoos and I was curious about yours since the day you got them" you blurted out, embarrassment colouring your cheeks.

"Hey, no need to apologize, come here" Eddie reached out for your free hand, took the beer from the other, and pulled you close to him, the heat of his metal rings made you gasp a little.

You had to restrain yourself from running your fingerprints on the inked skin, wanting to follow the black lines.

"The spider is beautiful" you confessed and it was his turn to blush a bit.

He could almost feel your breath on his heated face and decided he wanted more.

"It's a black widow, one of the most dangerous spiders in the world" he told you, lifting your hand to touch the arachnid legs, to you It was like being electrocuted by a loose wire.

"And this," he said moving your fingers lower "it's a demons head"

"Creepy' you commented, leaving out a chuckle and he followed.

You were about to step away when a question crawled into your mind, so you lifted your head, watching shyly Eddie in the eyes.

"Do you...have any others?" you wanted to know so badly.

You saw his face reddens and his pupils dilate, while a sly grin played on his face.

Still guiding your hand, he trailed down his chest and abdomen, stopping right at his belt.

"Yeah, but only pretty girls get to see 'em" he whispered placing your chin between his fingers.

"Oh" you said almost disappointed.

"So I guess it's your birthright to see them" he grinned before letting you go and taking a big gulp from the beer bottle, locking I'm his eyes with yours.

You remained frozen to the spot as he passed by you, heading from the stairs to the first floor.

"So? Are you coming or what, isn't your room upstairs?' he called.

"Hell, yes" you murmured before sprinting to him.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated. If you have a request for a fic just drop me a private message and I'll write it for you.

[bamsara]

Now I understand all those boomer 'don't talk go me before I've had my coffee' memes because I'm 30 hours without coffee/caffeine right now in an attempt to quit again and the withdrawl systems are pounding headache and making my vision go blurry in one eye. Shit sucks but we shall prevail

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Mote in your brother's eye (dp x dc)

Danyal Al Ghul was born part of a set. Twins were a blessing he’d heard people say, but Mother’s face said otherwise. And Danyal had started seeing why when he turned four. When their instructors started praising one over the other, favouring, comparing one against the other.

It hadn’t stopped there. As they grew, it seemed everyone had decided one twin was superior to the other and though Danyal knew it wasn’t true, and he knew it wasn’t fair, it seemed nobody cared. Damian and him tried, they really did, but there was nothing to do about it and the Twins turned into the Heir and the Spare.

And when one night, Mother’s spymaster came to report that Ra’s was looking for the spare, Danyal knew it was over. Mother was a flurry of controlled movement, and his own mind was whirling at breakneck speeds, but Damian was calm. And that broke Danyal’s heart.

"Put this on," Mother said, handing them identical robes. Danyal and Damian were always given different sets of clothes, to make them easily distinguishable. It seemed Mother was banking on their identical features for additional protection. 

Danyal put it on, and Damian followed, albeit more slowly. 

"Grandfather is only looking for one of us,". his twin said calmly.

"Damian," Mother said warningly.

"Mother, there is no choice, we hav-"

"I will not hear of it," she interrupted Damian ferociously. "Now, follow me."

Dayal looked to his twin’s hard features and pale face and his eyes began to burn. It wasn’t fair.

They followed after their mother’s, silent footsteps in the high hallways.

"We will not make it out," Damian said quietly to himself, "not like this."

Danyal took a deep, steadying breath, painfully aware his twin was right. 

"Damian," he started and his twin turned to him to raise an imperious eyebrow. "Damian, I’m sorry."

His twin scoffed and turned away, hurrying towards their mother who was opening up a corner of the wall, which she had told them held a passageway leading to the outside of the compound.

"Quick," Mother said and gestured towards the hole in the wall. 

Damian went in first, looking like he wanted to grumble but was too well-trained to do so.

Once he had disappeared into the darkness, Mother looked over at Danyal. But he did not move.

"Danyal," she started.

"Mother," he said and stared back and he saw the understanding in her eyes. Her eyes flashed.

"I will go," she said.

"You cannot."

"Danyal-"

"There is no time to argue," he said. "Grandfather is not a patient man."

She held his gaze for a second longer, before her shoulder lowered. She reached for Danyal’s nape and brought him in close to kiss his forehead.

"Be quick, dearest," she said as she stroked his hair. "Make me proud."

"I will," Danyal promised. He gave her a fragile smile. "Tell Damian I love him.’

"I will," she swore and then she was gone.

As Danyal walked towards his Grandfather’s quarters, there were people stepping out of his way in the halls. The boy ignored the stares as he fixed his eyes into the distance, his chin up and proud. 

He arrived in front of his Grandfather’s intricately ornamented doors much sooner than he would’ve hoped and was let in immediately.

Grandfather was standing, his back to the door, standing in front of a desk.

"I had begun to believe you would not show, child" Grandfather said.

Danyal bowed his head deferential and did not answer.

"You are not a coward at the very least," the man said as he turned back, his piercing stare settling on Danyal. The latter had to stifle the urge to flinch.

Grandfather then turned back towards the table to grab a dagger off the desk and at this, Danyal stepped back, his own hand going to his knife.

The man smirked, seemingly amused. "Do you believe I will kill you?"

His hand still over his knife, Danyal shrugged carefully. "I do not know what to believe."

Grandfather let out a chuckle and then he moved and Danyal reacted, his hand going for his knife and in the same movement towards Grandfather’s neck when he was stopped dead by his grandfather’s dagger in his gut.

A pained grunt escaped him and he struggled to stay to his feet, but he was already unbalanced from the attack and he crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain as the dagger buried itself deeper.

"What a waste," Grandfather’s voice cut through the haze of pain. "You were a disappointment to the end, Damian."

"Get him out of my sight," was the last Danyal heard of it before he was lost to oblivion.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

“hungover” - hotch x fem!reader

after a girls’ night in, you wake up next to your boyfriend.

1380 words - FLUFFY FLUFF

cw; mentions of alcohol and food, implied age gap?, typical hangover, jemily agenda (sry not sry)

a/n: I wrote this on my phone on vacation bc I have a serious problem

———————

The first thing you notice when you wake up is that you are not in your clothes.

You aren’t in your clothes. And you only realize it because of the scent wafting up your nose. Sea Salt Breeze - the cologne you’d gotten him for Christmas last year - emanates from the t-shirt that envelopes your upper half. You dip your chin for another whiff, breathing him in deeply. You want the smell inscribed into your brain.

You feel the bed dip and creak and you instinctively shut your eyes, playing possum as Aaron pads into the bathroom. The door whines as he shuts it most of the way, not totally closing it because he thinks you’re still asleep and that the sound of the door shutting will wake you.

Each of your senses turns on one at a time, like your brain waves run on dial-up Internet. You open your eyes and the room is mostly dark, save for the sliver of light creeping in through the outline of the curtains. You run the palm of your hand along Aaron’s sheets and marvel over how soft they are - Egyptian cotton, he’d told you once before.

Your head hurts, but only mildly. You’d certainly been drunker before, but last night was still up there. Penelope made her mojitos strong.

You slowly sit up in the bed as Aaron opens the door, flicking the bathroom light off in the same motion. Your eyes meet his and he cracks a small smile. “Thought you’d still be asleep,” he muses. You love his pale blue boxers and seeing the hair on his legs. His calves are crazy defined - he’s a runner, after all, but still. You rarely see him in anything but a suit and tie, so it’s always a treat. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

You shake your head, wincing slightly at the movement. Maybe you’re a little more hungover than you thought. “I was already awake,” you mumble, running a hand over your face. “Did you put me in your own clothes last night? I have pajamas in my drawer,” you point out, gesturing to the second drawer of Aaron’s dresser, the one that contains your set of pajamas, a few spare pairs of underwear, and a couple of emergency outfits, just in case you end up sleeping over at his place.

It happens more often than not, so you keep the drawer decently stocked at all times.

“You insisted,” Aaron climbs into the bed, reaching for you. He tugs you to him and you roll over onto your side, and then halfway onto your tummy so that your leg drapes over his and your palm rests flat on his chest.

You can hear his heart beating. It’s like a metronome, steady and guiding and calm. You feel his pointed chin nuzzle into your hair and then, his lips, quick yet effective, against your forehead.

Flashes of last night run through your head. You, Emily and JJ, over at Penelope’s apartment. A symphony of girlish giggles, talking about Emily and JJ’s upcoming wedding date, drinking at least three pitchers of mojitos among the four of you. Watching Dirty Dancing and gabbing the entire time, realizing it’d be a bad idea to drive yourself home, and calling Aaron to come get you.

When he arrived, you called him Hotch and apologized for him having to come get you, and he reminded you that he was Aaron and he was your boyfriend and he would pick you up anytime you needed it. You were determined to play the Dirty Dancing soundtrack on the ride home, fumbling with his phone until you found it.

You belted out (I’ve Had) The Time of My Life and demanded Aaron sing along. He admitted that he didn’t know all the words and you gave him a stern lecture until you started laughing so hard that you were in tears. Traffic lights reflected Christmas ornament colors in Aaron’s brown eyes as he drove, occasionally glancing over at you.

You swore you saw the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as you berated him for not knowing the words to such a classic song.

And then, once you were back at his place, you sat on the edge of the bed and stared at your shoes dumbly until Aaron offered to help you take them off. “Laces too hard,” you mumbled, and Aaron just hummed in agreement before kneeling down to help you.

And then he helped you out of your clothes. He went for your drawer, and you threw a pillow at him. “The college t-shirt,” you demanded with these Bambi-esque eyes.

“Arms up, baby,” Aaron said as he slid his law school t-shirt onto your upper half. He saved that specific term of endearment for times like these, when he was taking care of you, when he himself was exhausted. You could tell he was, too, not only because he kept yawning, but because of that glazed-over look in his chestnut eyes.

You glance down at the words George Washington University, printed over your chest.

Aaron’s arms around you tighten for just a moment as he embraces you, and you dig your face a little further into his chest. “No Jack today?” You ask, your voice coming out croaky.

“At his grandparents’,” Aaron murmurs, and you yawn. He strokes your hair. “How’s your head?”

“I haven’t had any complaints so far.”

Aaron’s hand freezes in your hair, and you lift your head, smirking at him. His mouth has formed a straight line, but you snicker and you can tell he’s trying not to smile at your dirty joke. “Degenerate,” he calls you.

“Prude,” you tease back, inching closer to kiss his jaw briefly before laying your head back down. “It hurts,” you answer his question. “But not as bad as it could.”

“That’s good,” Aaron comments, his hand running through your hair again, gently, the world’s most relaxing and least effective hairbrush. It feels nice, but his hands are so big that his fingers snag on the tangles, accomplishing nothing but making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Nothing wrong with that, though.

“Do you want some Tylenol for your headache?” Aaron asks, and you just curl up into him even more. He’s so warm, and sturdy, and it’s so rare that you get mornings like this. Either you’re both working or Jack has a soccer game or there’s something else going on. It’s nice just to lay around with him, to be mildly hungover and pretend like that’s the only thing going on in either of your lives.

“That would require getting out of bed,” you protest, and feel Aaron’s arms tighten around you. He’s a very doting boa constrictor.

“How about I get it for you, then?” He offers, and you shake your head and shift all your weight onto him. He chuckles, a deep, throaty noise you know you’re only privy to for about twenty minutes right after he’s woken up. “So that’s a no.”

“That’s a no,” you confirm, settling back in to your original position.

You lay like that with him, in comfortable silence, for a few minutes. Until it feels like you’ve melded into one being. Then Aaron finally shifts under you. “Honey, my arm’s asleep,” he whispers, as though he’s afraid to disturb you.

You slither off of him, then clamber out of bed with no amount of grace, going so far as to trip over the corner post of the bed. As Aaron sits up, you exclaim, “I’m okay!” and hold your hands out to steady yourself.

Aaron stifles a laugh and you watch him stand from the bed and he walks towards you, steadying you with one of those gargantuan hands on your shoulder. He then lifts that hand to tip your chin up. You step forward in a silent dance, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your toes to kiss him. “Oh, shit,” you murmur. “I bet I have really awful morning breath.”

He just blinks a few times, and then offers you a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, honey, you kind of do,” he admits. You lightly punch him in the pectoral and then head to the en suite to brush your teeth.

[lvminy]

Making satoru squirt and him making fem reader squirt. I'm dying for some switch content

mdni. mutual overstimulation, whiney Satoru my beloved. ( i had to pause writing at least 5 times to scream in my pillow ) please read the first two tags lmao

“b-baby, p-plea-se, I can’t, not anymore, a-ah!” Satoru sobs quite loudly to be honest, his eyes are glossy and filled with tears, the rim of them slightly reddened and matching the color of his bitten lips from endless hours of overstimulation. you’ve probably sucked the strength out of him through his dick, since his hands weakly push against your forehead in a failed attempt to keep you away from his throbbing length, “j-just pull it out, ah-a!”

“how many so far?” you giggle, pulling his cock out between your lips with a loud pop and getting in return a grateful sigh out of your boyfriend, one that doesn’t last long as your palm comes to rub circular motions on his tip, smearing the remaining cum all over the swollen flesh.

“d-dunno... ngh! haa, it’s too much!” he chokes on his own sobs, arching against the couch backrest so his heaving chest glistens with sweat under the living room lightbulb, his thighs squeeze your sides tightly, kicking and fighting the intense mixture of pain and pleasure running through his flustered pale body from the tip of his cock. you’ve never seen your boyfriend so worked up and overstimulated, all whiney —more than usual if you had to admit— but he looked absolutely cute begging for mercy.

“just one more, c’mon, and i’ll let you go” you smirk pressing your lips to the underside of his messy cock, feeling the veins throb under your tongue and palm warm up from where it continues to rub on his tip.

“n-no! stop please, feels weird!” Satoru begs, his body curving so he hovers over your body, so close to your face you’re able to watch his eyes open wide in shock, panting loudly and holding onto your hair for support barely seconds away from half screaming and shooting a translucent and diluted cum-like liquid in hard jets that landed on your face and the floor.

“wha—” you mutter back, staring in surprise at how your boyfriend’s body flops back against the couch, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon, “Satoru... did you just squirt? ” it comes out as a giggle, still dumbfounded from what just happened.

he doesn’t reply, and you’re a bit worried that he might have fainted, deciding to sit on his lap and observe his unfocused eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“Toru?” you softly slap his cheek, biting back a grin “are you dead?”

your boyfriend is a box of surprises, that’s for sure, but something that never failed to amaze you, even though you’re well aware of, is his incredible strength and stamina, yes, he might look all brain fried right now, but you should have expected for him to flip you over in the blink of an eye, pushing you underneath his body and spread on the couch with one leg over the backrest and the other bent so far it almost touched your ear.

“i told you to stop” Satoru growls, hands hooking under your thighs, positively bending you in half with his fattening cock dangerously close to your dripping cunt.

you laugh breathlessly, pushing the damp hair out of his eyes and slicking it back to watch how his bright blue eyes are now slightly darkened and almost disappearing around his blown out pupils, “please..., that was so fucking hot”

“we’ll see if you say the same after I make you squirt and beg” his voice is erratic, deeper and a bit dangerous, barely giving you time to process his words before he’s plunging deep into your pussy with a broken moan, he might act all dominant now, but the way his thighs shook and cock twitch told another story.

“don’t exaggerate! it wasn’t t-that ba-ah!” you get to mutter, cut by Satoru’s hard and precise thrusts inside your sopping wet cunt, moving in frenzy while choked out sobs came out of his mouth, drunk in the feeling of your tight hole squeezing him.

“so good, oh my fucking god!” your boyfriend moans, caging your body underneath his by pressing almost his whole weight on top of you, allowing only his hips to fuck into you with a loud wet sound from where his balls slam against your slick coated ass, barely rising before he’s back deep inside your walls, continuously slamming directly against your g-spot.

“S-satoru, i’m sorry alright, b-but please! slow down!” you cry out, begs falling on deaf ears as the man thrusts never falter, continuously driving you insane, and himself into the border of crying from fucking his overstimulated sensitive cock inside your pretty pussy.

“ah, ah! i’m gonna cum again” he sobs, ignoring your screams and nails digging on his back, and instead wrapping his arms around your thighs, bending you in half as he mounted you with whines and whimpers coming out of his lips, “uh, feels amazing, i’m going insane” is the last thing Satoru says before digging his teeth in your neck and cumming drily inside your pussy, the position causing his cock to bump and twitch directly against your g-spot and forcing your own orgasm out.

a loud beep rang in your ears at the same time your eyes clouded, unaware of the force of your own squirt gushing out and dropping from Satoru’s toned chest and flushed cock, you couldn’t hear a sound, but were certain you screamed quite loudly, only a couple of minutes after, once he knew you were a bit more lucid Satoru dared exhale a soft “payback” directly against your ear.

[teatreeoilll]

𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐲 (𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐗 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮)

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w/c - 1.4k content - MDNI! 18 + ! fem!reader, porn, Gojo eats you out while you sit on Geto's lap. That's it. That's the plot.

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Geto loves it when you sit in his lap. He loves it so much that sometimes he can't help himself; he puts a large arm around you first, nuzzling his face into your hair to smell its sweet scent, almost intoxicated. You draw closer to him; it's hard not to when the pads of his fingers begin to draw soothing patterns on your shoulder.

It's just a regular Tuesday night, and some average heist movie is playing idly on the television, and neither you, Geto, or Gojo - who made himself at home in your and Suguru's shared apartment with his feet crossed over on the coffee table - are paying too much mind to it.

You watch Gojo reach a pale, veiny arm into the bag of sweets. He takes out a piece of candy and unwraps it slowly, and you notice how his tongue darts out just a bit before he puts the chocolate candy in his mouth.

"Want one?" Gojo asks as he's about to take another one, and something in his small smirk when he says that makes your muscles tense.

With his hand still around you, Geto notices that - it's not the first time he spots it - he already took note of the light red flush that covers your cheeks when his best friend comes over after a workout with his shirt too tight from being drenched in sweat, or when you look just a moment too long into Gojo's blue eyes when you greet him before your eyes dart to the floor, the corners of your lips twitching up. Not that you ever do or say anything; it's all so innocent and sweet that Geto can't help but savor it, knowing his girlfriend's dirty little secret crush.

"Oh - no, thanks," you smile back at Gojo and lean further into Suguru's side, fixing your eyes on the screen.

Geto's arm around you tightens, and he reaches his other arm under your thighs to lift you up a bit and pull you on his lap. The heat spreads quickly on your cheeks, "S-Suguru," you whisper, fumbling away from his grasp, "not now." Geto knows you're not too much into public displays of affection, but the thought itches his mind, and his trousers grow uncomfortably tight.

Geto pulls you on top of him anyway, and Gojo's ever-perceptive pale-blue eyes stray away from the screen to land on your flushed face.

"Don't be shy," Geto whispers as his hand brushes the hair away from the back of your neck. His heavy breathing warms your skin, "We're all friends here, aren't we?" He raises his arm to grab you by the side of the face, turning it for your eyes to land on Gojo as he presses chaste kisses over your neck.

"S-Suguru," you whimper, feeling his stiff cock rubbing on your lower back through his trousers, "not - " but you can hardly breathe when you notice the sly smirk plastered on Gojo's lips and the way his jaw clenches each time you try to wriggle away from Suguru's touch.

"Satoru's a good friend, don't you think?" Geto urges, his hand leaving your face to brush over your thigh, raising the hem of your skirt, "I don't think you ever told him what a good friend he is, did you?"

"I don't think she did, Suguru," Gojo suddenly says, his eyes narrowing when the blush on your cheeks deepens to a crimson shade, "but I guess it's my fault," he sighs dramatically as he runs a hand through his white hair, "I don't think I ever showed her what a good friend I am. How's she supposed to know?"

Suguru chuckles, shaking your body along with him, "I guess she isn't," He runs his hand up your thigh to slide his fingers over your drenched panties, and you shudder, "But she wants you to show her. Don't you, princess?"

All you manage is a stifled mm-hmm before Gojo pushes the coffee table away, and it screeches as it reaches the middle of the living room, making space for him to kneel and settle himself between your thighs.

You gulp when you feel Gojo's hand run up your thighs, grabbing the sides of your underwear to pull them off, and you shiver at the touch of his warm hands running down along your legs together with your panties. He throws them on the floor and looks at you from beneath his long white eyelashes. The air gets trapped in your lungs.

"Come on, princess," Suguru's voice purrs in your ear as he spreads his legs, your own legs on either of his, revealing your wet cunt to Gojo's eager eyes, "Tell Satoru what a good friend he is, or he won't know."

"Y-You're a very good - " and Gojo reaches a long finger to skim along your folds, "Friend - Fuck - " you gasp.

"That's not nice," Geto chastises in your ear, his palms holding your thighs spread, and you place your hands on top of them, digging your fingers into them to steady yourself.

"It's okay, Suguru," Gojo smirks as his face draws closer to your clit, licking a teasing stripe along it, and you feel him smiling against your cunt, "She'll be nice in a minute."

Gojo's tongue begins lapping at your folds, and your thighs jolt, wanting desperately to close on his head only for Geto to hold them tighter in place, "Satoru - Fuck - " you moan, feeling Geto's cock twitch against your lower back.

"Feels good?" Geto murmurs, and you feel Gojo's two long fingers hover at your entrance before pushing in teasingly slow, his tongue still flicking at your clit.

"So sweet," Gojo pulls away from your clit, his mouth drenched in your essence as he works you open with his fingers, licking his lips clean, "If you told me she tastes so sweet, we would've done this a lot sooner."

Geto's chaste kisses on your neck turn to soft nibbles on the soft skin there as he groans every time your body twitches, letting him have a bit of delicious friction on his clothed cock, "Shit," he groans into your neck. He pulls his hand off of one of your thighs, running his fingers along your wet cunt to collect your essence before lifting them up to his mouth, licking them clean, "You are, so sweet."

Gojo's fingers pick up a ruthless pace, the pads of his fingers abusing the gummy spot inside you, "So needy," he smirks when he feels you clench around his fingers, and your vision nearly blurs when his tongue laps at your folds again, your hand darting out to grab strands of white hair to make sure he doesn't pull away again.

"Ah - Fuck - " you moan out as you writhe and squirm at the dizzying feeling of Gojo's fingers nudging your sweet spot, the heat pooling in your stomach as a Geto still holds you in place, "Shit - 'Toru - I - "

The lewd squelching noises coming from your wet cunt fill the room, and your back arches, tension coiling in your stomach as you almost instinctively turn your head to Suguru, who shakes his head. "It's okay princess," Geto's fingers grip your chin to tilt it down at Satoru, "You can look at him."

And you watch Gojo's blue eyes, desperate moans mixed with cusses escaping your lips as he looks up at you. His tongue still works hungrily on your clit, and his fingers push deeper and deeper with each erratic thrust while his free hand rubs his erection through his trousers for some relief.

The coil in your stomach snaps, and your release drenches Satoru's lips and chin as his movements finally slow down. Your nails dig into his scalp as you ride out your high on the slowing pumps of his fingers. He slides his fingers out, "'Toru - " you whimper when his tongue glides one more time against your sensitive clit.

You feel Geto's unsteady breathing at your neck as he locks eyes with Gojo, giving him a nod. Gojo rises from his knees, his face an inch away from yours, "You have one more in you, princess?" He asks but doesn't wait for an answer before pressing his slick-drenched lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he moans at the feeling of your release rolling off his tongue onto yours, the sweet aftertaste of the candy he ate still present on his tongue.

He pulls out of the kiss, and you turn to Suguru, who eagerly pushes his tongue in your mouth, "I bet you do," Gojo teases, and you feel him between your legs again, pressing soft, wet kisses to your inner thigh.

[localplaguenurse]

Casper NSFW Headcanons

I am not immune to the grim reaper babygirl even a little bit. These are more "first time" headcanons.

Mentions of male and female anatomy for MC/reader/you, dom reader, oral (giving and receiving), a lot of teasing/praising, and inexperienced Casper, topping and bottoming. Also, this gets fucking LONG. REALLY LONG. Honestly should've just written actual smut but the voices told me to write headcanons...

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, RESPECT THE HONOUR SYSTEM

Since Casper has never fallen for a mortal before and is/was a workaholic, he’s inexperienced in all matters of intimacy, especially physical.

Like, if you’re not his first kiss then you haven’t kissed him yet levels of inexperienced.

The first thing you two do, after you’ve pushed him down on your bed with glee, is kiss. And it’s okay! He has really soft lips, and it’s a simple peck, so not a lot to mess up there.

It’s when you try to do deeper, longer kisses that his inexperience shows.

Should he be tilting his head more? Should he push more against you- oh god there’s your tongue, in his mouth, feeling around, does he do the same? Where does he put his hands? 

You have to really walk him through it and be patient about it. His tongue work is going to be awkward and sloppy, and you’re gonna bump teeth the first couple times, but he’ll eventually get the hang of it. 

You’ll also have to remind him that he’s allowed to pull away so he can breathe. His face is cute when red, but you don’t wanna see if it’s just as cute when it’s blue. (I mean, it’s not like it’ll kill him, but still...)

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think his flushed face, wet lips, and panting were cute though. 

Hickies are fun. It’s super easy to leave teeth marks and suck bruises on his pale skin, and it’ll make him whimper as you do. Tease him about how flustered he is over a couple love bites, and he’ll get pouty and deny it. 

In fact, he’ll wanna mark you up as revenge, but he also just only learned how to kiss like ten minutes ago so he’s gotta learn how to give hickies too. He gets frustrated when he sucks on your skin but not enough to leave a lasting mark. That said, it is fun to do, and your skin is so soft against his tongue and lips, so he’ll keep trying. 

He sits back all smug over finally leaving a bruise, but his neck is covered in teeth marks and bruises. Please, please bully him about that. 

I need to stress this right now: you can tease and bully him as much as you want, do not degrade him.

The harshest name you can call him is a slut, but it has to be wrapped in praise (i.e. “such a good little slut…”). You could probably get away with calling him pathetic in the heat of the moment every now and again, but that is it. He will not react well to degradation. He wants and needs to be praised.

Play with his hair. Pull on it so you can tilt his head back and leave kisses all over his neck and jaw. Kiss up to his ear to tell him what a good boy he’s being, your sweet little reaper. He’ll melt right then and there. 

Constantly feeling you up, it’s both his attempt at teasing you (especially with his cold hands) but mostly just him trying to figure out what he’s doing. If you tell him he’s not allowed to touch you, then he’s gonna be white knuckling the sheets. 

Another easy way to get some really pretty noises out of him? Play with his chest and nipples, they’re very sensitive. 

He’s ashamed at how easy it is to get him hard. You don’t have to do that much. Just straddle him and make out with him for a bit, let him touch your body or play with his hair. You’ll feel him press against you in no time, and he’ll whine at the friction of his pants against his cock.

Just whatever you do, don’t touch it. Don’t feel it, don’t rub it, and absolutely do not grind against it. Not unless you want him to cream his pants immediately. (Let's be honest: you do.)

Actually, you won’t even need to touch him to make him cum. All your teasing, your kissing, touching, the warmth of your skin and smell of your shampoo and your hands running through his hair and the sound of your voice, it’s too much.

You’ll feel his hips jerk and back arch, and he’ll make the prettiest little noise you’ve ever heard. It’ll take you a moment to realize what’s happened, your eyes trailing down to see the wet spot where his cock is pressed up against his pants. 

When you do finally let his cock out, it’s rock hard, dripping precum, flushed a pretty shade of pink and has a patch of white hair at the base. He keeps it well maintained, which you shouldn’t be surprised by considering his thorough skincare routine. 

Any and all bravado is out the window the exact moment you touch his cock. Whatever insult or snarky comment he had on his mind or smug look on his face is immediately gone once he feels your fingers graze it. 

You can tease him as much as you want when he’s like this and he won’t do anything about it. Can’t do anything about it. He’ll be a whiny mess for you whether he wants to be or not, but in the moment, he doesn’t care as long as you touch him. 

It won’t take much to make him cum, just pump your hand up and down while you kiss and bite at his neck, and tell him about how cute he is right now, how good he is, how he can just relax because you’re gonna take such good care of him. 

The only reason he doesn’t immediately cum is because he’s masturbated to the thought of you before so he knows what it feels like, but his “self care” is nothing compared to you yourself actually touching him. 

He will immediately cum if you go down on him. With your hand it was one thing, but your mouth is so warm and wet and your tongue feels so good he can’t hold back. 

His hips will buck up reflexively, shoving himself deeper inside by accident as his cum shoots down your throat. He’ll babble apologies profusely for it but is immediately cut off by his own sobs when you keep going.

God it would be so fun to overstimulate him. He’d be crying, tears in his eyes, babbling about how it’s too much, it feels too good, and his body’s shivering and writhing because it doesn’t know if it wants to get away or if it wants more. 

Edging would also be fun, just to hear him whine and beg for you every time you brought him to the edge, only to slow down and pull back. He’s pleading with you to let him cum, please let him cum, he’ll be good, please. How can you say no to that face?

Since you’ve treated him so nicely, it’s only fair he returns the favour and goes down on you too, right? Right. 

You’ll have to talk him through it, how you like to be touched. Go ahead and grab his hair, use it to really guide him by pulling his face closer to your sex. If he’s not all mushy by that point, he’ll tease you about being needy for him (like he’s one to talk…).

Sucking cock is simple enough, though you can see in his eyes he’s a little nervous about it. He’ll slowly pump his hand up and down as a tester, gauging if you like what he’s doing and if he should go faster. He’ll then stick his tongue out and hesitantly lick the tip, and that surprised look on his face when you moan is to die for.

It’s enough of a push that he’ll take the tip in his mouth and lightly suck on it while stroking you, and every time you groan about how fucking good his mouth feels, it encourages him to take more of you in his mouth.

Be vocal with him, but most of all, be patient. Tell him what he’s doing right and what you want him to do, guide him by his hair if you wanna, but don’t expect him to be ready to deepthroat you yet. He’s still gotta work on that, so just savour the feelings he’s giving you now.

Let him know when you’re going to come, and more importantly, where, because otherwise he won’t know what to do. If you don’t wanna cum in his mouth, he’ll pull himself away and keep jerking you off until you cum. Try not to cum on his face, as tantalizing as the sight is. You can maybe get away with it once on purpose, or if it’s an accident.

Casper’s not a spitter, but he’s not a swallower? He actually doesn’t know what to do when you cum in his mouth. He’ll literally sit there with his mouth full and dick hard just staring at you until you either tell him to swallow or give him something to spit in. Call him a good boy when he swallows. Or if he doesn’t. Just call him a good boy either way.

It takes him some time to figure out how to eat you out right, but luckily for him it still feels really nice when he’s practicing. 

His fingering technique needs a little work, mostly because he’s very unsure of himself. One’s not enough, two looks and certainly sounds good on your end, does he need to add more, or will that hurt? He wants to make sure he’ll fit when he gets to the big finish, but three fingers feels excessive, unless you like that? Is he going too fast, too slow, too deep, not deep enough? Does he curl his fingers here? Oh, you squeezed his fingers just now, that means he’s doing something good, but what’s he doing?

Thank god for the clitoris. Finds it without you having to guide him because it’s literally at the top, it’d be harder not to find it. All you need to tell him is your preferred pace and he’ll rub at it with ease, taking immense pride at how quickly you fall apart with that dumb little smile. (Just ignore him grinding against the bedsheets or stroking his cock, he’s totally in control right now.)

Kinda like with giving head, he starts with little kitten licks to your clit before getting more confident as he listens to your moans and praises. He’ll especially love it if you push his face into you so he can suck and lick harder. He’ll groan against you unintentionally, but when he hears the sound you make at the vibrations of his mouth, he’ll latch onto your clit and start humming and sucking as hard as he can.

Loves the feeling of you cumming on his tongue. The way your hips buck up, the way you tighten your grip on his hair, grinding against his face, your juices slathered all over his lips and tongue, gods he’ll never get over it. He’ll clean you up with his tongue and sit up, trying to look smug, but he’s not fooling anyone with the flushed face, the hearts in his eyes, or the wet patch on the front of his pants.

He’ll think you’re weird if you wanna kiss him after he goes down on you, but quickly shuts up once you plant your lips on his. Your tongue in his mouth is a very compelling argument.

Now comes the part he’s been most excited and nervous for; actually being inside you.

You are taking the lead regardless, because he doesn’t know what to do. Well, he knows, but he’s not fully confident in his abilities.

Just lay him back, tell him all he has to do is relax. You’ll take such good care of him.

He is tense when he feels you straddling him, your bare sex rubbing up against his teasingly. He wants to tell you to get on with it already, but his mind is in a daze and the only thing he can focus on is telling himself not to cum yet, you haven’t even put it in.

He’s gripping your bed sheets or your hips as tight as he can when he feels you finally start to sink down on his cock. He can cover his mouth, grit his teeth, whatever, but you KNOW that boy is whimpering inch by inch.

It’s enough that once you actually make it to the base, he’s reduced to the most pitiful mess of a grim reaper, trying so hard to keep what little composure he has, and the two of you have hardly started?

He will not last long in this state. The feel of your tight warm walls hugging around him so tight, and the way you move up and down his length is too much for him to handle.

He’s sorta sensitive about how quickly he cums, so you have to be careful about how, when, and if you tease him about it. You can tease him when he creams his pants, so long as it’s along the lines of “you feel that good already?” 

When he cums prematurely inside you, be gentle with him, coo in his ear that it’s okay, it happens sometimes, you’re happy you make him feel so good, he’s being such a good boy for you.

And then you milk that poor boy for everything he’s worth. Watch his teary eyes roll back as his hips buck up to meet yours, shooting load after load until you’ve drained him of everything he’s got. He’ll be incoherent, sobbing and muttering “please please please” because it’s the only thing he’s able to say.

Hold his hand.

As if this google doc I’m writing in isn’t long enough, let’s talk pegging.

He’s going to be nervous about bottoming, he won’t even pretend he’s not. He doesn’t really know what he’s getting into, but he’s willing to try so long as you talk him through what you need to do.

In theory it’s all good, until he has your fingers thrusting into his hole, pressing into his sweet spot while you purr in his ear about all the things you’re going to do to him tonight. He really should have seen that coming considering it’s his Sunshine we’re talking about here, but he’s in too much pleasure to complain.

He’ll be too embarrassed to be face to face with you, so you suggest doing it from behind. Again, great in theory, until you have him face down ass up with your chest to his back. This position is arguably more embarrassing, but Casper is also stubborn and at least you can’t see his face.

Kiss all over his neck and shoulder blades and along his spine, it’ll make him shiver.

You have to take it really slow at first, of course. It’s his first time doing something like this, and you don’t wanna hurt him. Once you’ve slowly inched yourself to the base, give him a minute to get used to the fullness.

You’ll start slow and soft, but you don’t have to stay that way. In fact, he’ll love it if you start going faster, harder, deeper. He wants to feel you hit his prostate again and again, making him see stars every time you do.

You don’t even need to touch his cock, he’ll be falling apart anyways with the way you fuck him, but it’s so fun to overstimulate him anyways so go ahead, jerk him off while you do it.

He’ll try to muffle his sounds in the pillows. Sure, you can let him because it’s honestly really cute, but you can also pull him away by either tugging his hair or grabbing him by the jaw and lifting his head up. He’ll be a drooling, teary eyed mess, but he’s your teary eyed mess. Make sure you tell him that.

If you can, don’t be shy filling him up either. When he’s all fucked out, the feeling is absolutely addicting. Will probably get grumpy about the mess once he’s in a clearer headspace, but he’s also not gonna tell you to stop.

Oh, he’ll be nothing but mush when you two are done the deed. Not only is he too tired and blissed out to move, but he’ll be so cuddly and sweet, murmuring about how much he loves you and how good you are to him, for him. (He will vehemently deny he was that sappy once he’s snapped out of it though.)

Cuddles are absolutely mandatory post sex, he needs a little skin on skin time and to relish in the afterglow before the two of you get cleaned up.

It’s as you two are huddled together under the covers, about to fall asleep, that you hear Casper groggily mumble a little “thank you,” for treating him so well for his first time and showing him the ropes.

He’ll smirk at you and say that next time he’s going to use his knowledge against you, but both of you know that it doesn’t matter how experienced he is, it’s not gonna happen. 

You don’t get the chance to poke fun at him about it though, as he’s already fallen asleep. You kiss his forehead and cuddle up closer.

[cozage]

Could you write a short fic for Zoros reaction to his s/o falling down some stairs (but she is ok just bruised) please. BTW love your writing

Characters: Zoro x female reader CW: none :) Total word count: 1k

Slip and Fall

One second you were upright, walking down the stairs.The next moment, you were staring up at the ceiling. 

The pain caught up with you quickly, and you groaned from the aches that riddled your body. Judging by the pain in your back, you must’ve slid down the stairs. Nothing seemed to be broken, but you were certain you’d have a few bruises to show for your misstep. 

You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, trying to recenter yourself and minimize the pain.

“What the hell was-” Zoro’s irritated voice cut off abruptly, and you braced yourself for some kind of cheap joke at your expense. 

But nothing came. You were certain he hadn’t left, but he also made no move to get closer to you. Or do anything. 

“Y/N?” Zoro’s voice came out as a harsh whisper. 

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” You breathed out a laugh. The pain seemed to be getting worse the more you lay there. “Help me up, will you?”

“No!” Zoro finally moved, rushing over to you to keep you still. “You shouldn’t move. It could-you could-I don’t want you to-”

“Zoro,” you groaned, finally opening your eyes and instantly meeting his. 

His eyes were so full of worry. They raked over your body, searching for any sign of injury. And you realized that Zoro was truly scared. 

Naturally, his fear made you panic. 

“What?” you tried to lift your head, but Zoro refused to let you move. 

“Chopper needs to check for a spinal injury. If you landed wrong…” He shook his head, as if he were shaking a thought from his head. 

“Zoro, I’m fine.” Though your back was probably blossoming with bruises, you were sure you’d survive.

“Let me go get Chopper. Just stay here for a minute. Please.” His last word was barely a whisper. It was that word, that small act of begging, that kept you anchored to where you laid. 

“Alright, alright.” You closed your eyes. “You fuss too much.”

“I do not-” You could hear him clench his jaw in frustration. “Just stay still for a minute!”

His hurried footsteps receded, and you could hear distant shouts from off in the distance, followed by footsteps coming back to you quickly. 

“She slipped and fell,” Zoro said softly, and you could hear Chopper set down his medical kit and open it. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” Chopper asked. You opened them. 

“Do you know your name?”

You laughed. “Of course I do!” 

Chopper and Zoro didn’t join your laughter, so you gave your full name to the doctor. 

The reindeer nodded. “And do you know where you are?”

You sighed. “The Sunny. The Grand Line. Don’t ask me where on the Grand Line, because I wouldn’t even know that on my best day.”

Chopper gave a slight smile at that answer, but Zoro was still watching you from a few feet away. He was tucked back in a corner, almost as if he was scared of you. 

“Did you hear me?” Chopper asked, waving a hand in front of your face. 

You blinked. You hadn’t heard his question. You hadn’t even realized he was speaking. 

“What is five plus five?” Chopper asked again. 

“Oh. Ten,” you answered quickly, taking your eyes off of Zoro for only a moment before finding him again. He looked so pale, and his mouth was pressed in such a tight line as he watched Chopper. You opened your mouth to speak, but Chopper spoke first. 

“Zoro, can you come help her sit up? I’d like to check her back for any signs of injury.”

“Chopper, I told you already! I’m fine!” Your words were accompanied with a groan as you tried to sit up on your own. 

Zoro was suddenly there, gently guiding you into a sitting position. You rolled back your shoulders, trying to shake off the stiffness of your muscles. Zoro only watched you, his face still hard as stone. 

“Zoro.” Your fingers cupped his face, forcing his eyes to lock onto yours. “I’m here. I’m okay, really.”

“She’s right,” Chopper agreed, looking at you. “Some icky bruises for a few days, and you probably have a minor concussion, but you’re okay.”

“See?” You smiled. “I’m okay.”

Zoro nodded and pulled his face away from your grip. The panic in his eyes has subsided, but only slightly. 

“I probably need a lot of bedrest though, right Chopper?” You gave a slight nudge to the reindeer. 

“Huh? You don’t-” Chopper caught your wink and worried glance at Zoro. “Oh! Yes! She needs lots of rest. And she shouldn’t be alone…because of the concussion! Zoro, can you look after her?”

Zoro narrowed his eyes slightly, and you gave him a sheepish grin and you held out your hands. “Help me up?” you asked. 

He did you one better, gently picking you up off the ground. He was careful to avoid the sensitive spots on your back. How he knew exactly where they were, you weren’t sure, but you were thankful he was considerate. 

You were quick to pull him into bed and snuggle into his chest. Even if it wasn’t the most comfortable for your sore body, you were happy to be close to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.” His response was short, clipped. 

“Okay,” you hummed, curling in closer to him. 

A few minutes passed in comforting silence, and you were almost asleep when he kissed the top of your head. 

“I thought you were dead,” he whispered hoarsely. “I thought I lost you and I just…I couldn’t go through that again. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t. I’m right here,” you murmured softly into his chest, letting his warmth lull you into a deep sleep.

[sixosix]

STAY, TOO | AETHER

desc you were afraid that aether would break your heart, but that all flew out the window the moment he got sick and demanded only you take care of him

notes wc 2.8k, FLUFF FLUFF bit of angst with reader’s mindset but happy ending i swear on my asia server genshin acc + this draft had been in my docs since 10/15/2023. its a miracle that i decided to pick up on it again and actually finish it !!!!!!! enjoy fellow aether kissers

Evenings were always eerily silent; because of that, your thoughts were loud. Not in the way that screamed—no, it was much worse. It was his voice that whispered, that made you shiver and reach out for something that never existed. 

You didn’t know if you were dreaming or if you were awake and letting your mind wander away to a familiar face. Your mind always ended up back to him, no matter how much you tried to stray away. No matter who you talked to, he haunted you. Who you kissed, his face flashed in your mind. You wanted to curse his name out—it was his fault you were like this. It was his fault for deciding to come into this world and rid yourself of your defenses, left helpless to his whims.

“Um, Y/N?” A hand moved to your shoulder.

You jumped out of your seat, heart racing as his grinning face dissipated from your mind. You turned and breathed a sigh of relief. “What are you doing here, Sucrose?”

“It’s past midnight,” Sucrose murmured, her expression nervous, but apparently, she was too worried to leave you be. “I saw light from your window and thought you fell asleep…”

You didn’t even know if you were—everything before felt like a distant blur. Your eyes darted back to your desk, and then your face paled at the sight of a grinning face staring back at you. How long had you been mindlessly doodling Aether’s face? You quickly snatched them away from Sucrose’s view.

“I—I’m fine. Sorry, I did fall asleep.”

Sucrose’s bottom lip jutted out. “This has been happening for too long now. You’re not fine.”

What were you supposed to say to that? You were so hopelessly infatuated with someone who was ruining your life and possibly your job with Mr. Albedo. That would be a fast way to get yourself fired.

Sucrose sat on the chair beside you, her expression determined. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Can you at least tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing that serious, Sucrose,” you stammered. Hopefully, the candles were dim enough to hide how flustered you were. It was more embarrassing than serious, really.

“Is it the Traveler?” She knew how to strike hard for someone with such an innocent face.

When had it not been the Traveler, honestly?

“Ugh…” That was a yes for her, apparently.

Sucrose smiled in relief. Her eyes darted around your face, studying you. “What’s wrong? Was he affecting you that much?”

“Yes. Disturbingly so. Like, seriously, it’s disturbing me.”

Sucrose’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “How?”

“It feels like swallowing a crystalfly whole and feeling it flutter around my stomach whenever I even think of him.”

Sucrose’s face turned serious. “What have you been doing to the crystalfies we’ve been collecting?”

“Never mind,” you muttered. “I’m fine, Sucrose. I promise, okay?”

You weren’t. Sucrose must’ve thought the same, too, because Lisa barged into your office the next day.

“What else are you expecting? For him to notice your wallowing and say something about it?”

Lisa’s sweet, melodious voice sounded torturous now when she was poking at all the things you were desperately trying to keep hidden. You sink against your seat, feeling a lot like a scolded kid, caught red-handed skipping chores—skipping responsibilities, hoping to stay oblivious for a bit longer.

“He already said something,” you grumbled, finding it difficult to meet the mage’s sharp eyes.

For someone who sounded as gentle as a mother to her only child, Lisa’s disappointment made you feel a lot more shameful than if she were to chide you in the middle of Mondstadt’s streets.

“A week after we met. He told me he likes me,” you continued.

Lisa’s jaw dropped, a funny expression you’ve never seen on her before. “A week after you met? Let me get this right—”

You groaned, “Lisa, trust me, I know—”

“—Our dear Traveler confessed to you ages ago. When was it when Aether helped us with Stormterror? He’s in Fontaine now!” Lisa looked a little frazzled, her eyes wild. You were expecting her to chide you some more until you saw how her entire expression was sparkling. This felt foreboding, somehow. “He keeps visiting to see you! After all these years of you foolishly rejecting him—”

“I didn’t reject him!”

Lisa hummed thoughtfully. “Oh, but isn’t that exactly what you’re doing?”

You were not rejecting Aether. You didn’t outright tell him you’re not interested because you are. He had been haunting your thoughts since you first laid eyes on him, returning from battle, cold breath billowing from his mouth, a pixie by his side, his hair aglow gold, Festering Desire in hand—and, oh, you desired him. It reached a point where Albedo himself had to ask if you wanted a check-up from how much you were burning with want.

Aether had grinned at you so brightly, and you damn near melted on the spot, even in the unrelentingly bitter weather of Dragonspine.

You found yourself liking him for more than his quite literally alien nature, his out-of-this-world body, and his abilities that had your hands itching to reach for a pen and paper to write down everything about him and figure out what the hell he was. Instead, you started falling for him as just Aether. His boyish smile, his witty jabs, his glimpses of personality.

And then he confessed to you—you, no one but one of Albedo’s assistants—and said he likes you, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to say anything at the time. You thought of him leaving one day, and then you just couldn’t say the yes that was chanting in your brain.

To no one’s surprise, he did leave. Not to that extent yet, but away from Mondsadt. Even in Liyue, Inazuma, Sumeru, and Fontaine, he invaded your thoughts as if cursing you for not saying what you were thinking. You could only wish he thought of you just as much as you did to him. Maybe he’d end up hating you, and not loving him would be easier.

“Are you kidding?” If it were so easy, you would’ve already jumped in his arms and kissed him breathlessly. “He’s—he’s not like us. He doesn’t belong here. He’d leave, eventually. Just like he always does with the other worlds.”

“Is that what’s stopping you?”

“That’s reason enough to be stopping me,” you said sharply. “He’s got millions of worlds to flirt with as he pleases, and this is my only one. Who knows if Aether is the type to even visit?”

Lisa crossed her arms. “Maybe you should ask. Communication is key.”

“Even if that was the case, I can’t handle it. I already miss him enough while he’s still in Teyvat—I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let him into my heart, and he’s a world away.”

“You’ve already let him in your heart,” Lisa said softly. “Just talk to him, alright? I’m not the only one worried about you when you drive yourself to a corner like this—especially over a boy!”

“I’m perfectly alright,” you said, ignoring Lisa’s amused smile. “I’m not losing my mind. Especially over a boy.”

You definitely were losing your mind. That boy was Aether; how could you not?

“I think it’s adorable,” Lisa cooed, cupping her cheeks and sighing dreamily. “He’s still waiting patiently. Who knew the Traveler would be so willing to wait for love?”

You wished that it wasn’t like that.

“Y/N! Are you here?”

Crap. Did you fall asleep in your office again? Might as well stop paying rent if this was going to be a recurring thing.

Once again, by routine at this point, you threw your notes that had Aether’s face inked by the edges. Memory be damned, You couldn’t let anyone see how detailed your drawings of Aether are.

“Y/N?” The voice rang out again, and it sounded more familiar now.

You went to open the door and frowned. “Lisa? It’s so early—did something happen?”

Lisa smiled in greeting, so beautifully devious with what she was about to say: “Our Honorary Knight is back in town!”

“Did you come all the way here just to tell me that?” Were people just seeing you as one of Aether’s admirers?

“Of course not,” Lisa chuckled, patting your head. How did she look so good this early in the morning? “He’s sick and needs someone to look after him.”

You wanted to close the door. You wanted to crawl back to your desk and go to sleep, but she had that look in her eye—one that told you that you had something to do with where she was going. And you did not like where this was going.

“So?” Dammit. You really wanted to see Aether again.

“Why, who else better to take care than his dearest alchemist?”

“Albedo is everyone’s alchemist. Sucrose is everyone’s dearest alchemist.”

Lisa shushed you. Why was she so invested in this? “No, no, his. Not everyone’s.”

You felt your face burn at the thought of being his dearest alchemist. Or anything his. “Absolutely not! Wasn’t he in Fontaine just yesterday?”

“Why don’t you go ask him that yourself?”

You scowled. You weren’t agreeable in the mornings. “How did you even know about this?”

Lisa smirked, poking your nose. “Because he asked for you, specifically.”

You laughed dryly—good one.

“I won’t let you do anything you wouldn’t want,” Lisa said seriously, “but would you change your mind if I told you that it’s Aether that wants you?”

And so you ended up in Aether’s teapot, which was hanging around Jean’s office for safety. Jean only smiled knowingly when you knocked on the door and zipped straight to the teapot. You were only doing this on the off-chance that Lisa was telling the truth and that Aether demanded he didn’t want anyone else but you checking up on him.

His teapot was familiar. You had been here a few times, but you didn’t have your own room. That was too embarrassing to ask, no matter how much Aether suggested it.

“Y/N!” Aether lit up the moment you entered the room.

“Aether,” you greeted, and as much as you wanted to hide it, a smile bloomed on your lips. It was hard not to smile when Aether was looking at you like that.

He looked like a mess, with strands of hair spread all over his pillows. His blanket was only up to his hips, showing that he was out of his usual look, and wore a simple white shirt. You were grateful for that shirt; you didn’t want to end up helping Aether strip because he definitely would have suggested that.

“I’m sick,” Aether whined. “Tend to me.”

You would’ve doubted his fever, but it was worryingly hot when you reached out to check his forehead’s temperature.

Immediately, your suspicions fly out the window. Aether was burning, and you were the only one in the same room (teapot?) who should take care of him. The Honorary Knight was reduced to a fever.

You cupped his cheek and watched as Aether pressed his face closer. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes.”

You tore your hand off. “I’ll make something to ease the pain.”

“You can ease it right now. By kissing it away.”

“Aether,” you sighed. Unbelievable. How did he still have enough energy for this while positively rotting on his bed? “Take this seriously. I haven’t seen you this sick— Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you sick. How did this even happen?”

“Stayed too long underwater,” he said.

Aether? Getting sick from swimming? You made a face, which Aether laughed softly at.

“No, seriously. It was an emergency commission. Even when I had to resurface, it was pouring. Someone was making the Hydro Dragon cry hard yesterday.” Aether’s face scrunched as he looked up at you with round eyes. “I was so cold.”

Although it sounded absurd that Aether would get a fever from that, you suppose that having to stay drenched for a long time would affect even someone like him. You couldn’t even imagine having to shiver your way back to Mondstadt after being thoroughly drenched the whole day.

You pulled the blanket further up Aether’s chest. Even if you suspected he was lying, he was trembling underneath the covers.

“Alright.” You’ll believe him because right now, it is a fact that Aether is undoubtedly sick.

You were well aware that he was and sounded like he was dying, but he looked cute, flushed, and staring at you expectantly. It felt nice to be needed by someone like him—made him feel less like a faraway dream.

You cleared your throat and looked away; you knew you looked flustered. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Why? Will you cook for me?” he asked.

You knew how to cook, but for someone who had traveled regions and tasted all kinds of foods, you would probably disappoint. Still, it wasn’t time for a competition with other chefs in Liyue or Fontaine. Aether needed food to fill his stomach.

“Any suggestions?” You hoped for nothing unfamiliar and crazy. You loved Aether, but having to fetch ingredients from oceans away was too much.

“Make it with love,” Aether said cheekily because he was a bastard who didn’t have any mercy on your heart.

And so you left the room and ignored Aether, laughing and coughing as he called after you. You had to leave either way—your chest was almost as warm as Aether’s forehead.

You decided to make a Radish Veggie Soup. You hoped Aether wasn’t too picky about his vegetables. The water was comfortably cold, enough to make you search around his cupboards for towels to soak it into. As you waited for the water to boil, you decided to check up on Aether again.

He was still lying there, but with his eyes closed now. You felt terrible seeing someone you witnessed defeat dragons battling a fever. You drew closer and placed the towel on his head. He didn’t flinch at the stark change of temperature, but he did react instantly, his warm hand clasping your wrist.

“Stay,” Aether rasped.

You bit your lip, your heart sinking. Was he dreaming about his sister? You always worried when he was feeling down because of their separation.

But then his eyes opened, and he stared right at you. “Y/N,” he said, “please stay.”

“I can’t.”

“Just this once.” Aether’s voice sounded so quiet, so unsure of himself.

You really couldn’t. You had a Radish Veggie Soup to attend to.

“I’m staying,” Aether said, and you had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the bed. “I’m staying here for you.”

You frowned. “Don’t lie to make me feel better right now. That would hurt more when you have to leave.”

Aether’s face softened impossibly. “I’m not lying. I’m telling you the truth—I’m not leaving Teyvat. Even if I find my sister, I’m staying.”

Seriously? Just like that? “What made you change your mind?”

You couldn’t tell if Aether was blushing or if it was his fever. “How could I leave Teyvat when I see how cute you look taking care of me?”

You threw a pillow to his face.

He swerved away and laughed brightly. “I’m joking! I’m joking—drop that pillow, please. I’m kidding. Well, sort of.”

His face was once again attempted to get assaulted by another pillow. Aether grinned as he blocked it off with an arm.

“For someone so sick, you seem awfully lively,” you said, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You breathe life into me; what can I say?”

You groaned. You couldn’t deal with this today—you needed at least three business days to process this and find another reason to reject him. Yet, as you moved to get some fresh air (anything to get Aether’s stupid face out of your view), a hand abruptly reached for your wrist.

Aether’s face was close to yours in a blink of an eye. His breath was hot on your face. “I’m serious,” he said, “so if— if you feel the same way, the least you can do is stay, too.”

“I— You—” You gaped at him. That sounded like it could be a proposal. Who would’ve thought—the Outlander, the Traveler, begging for you to stay?

Aether’s gaze flicked to your lips.

“Don’t kiss me,” you said in warning. “Are you an idiot? You’re sick!”

“That’s fine. I get to take care of you when you do,” Aether said.

Your face paled. “No! I have a job, Aether—”

Aether frowned. “And I have a world to save, but that can wait. We’re busy.”

You pushed his face away, his laugh smothered by your palm. “No, we are not. I’m busy making food for your sorry ass, away from you.”

Aether’s face crumpled. “Do you actually not want to kiss?”

Not when he’s sick and snotty, yeah.

Instead, you leaned in to kiss his forehead to make up for it. It was brief and faint, but Aether looked satisfied, smiling softly when you pulled away. It would do for now.

“I’m staying,” you said. “So long as you do, too. I’ll stay with you.”

THE SOUP TURNED OUT OKAY STILL. this is just how my mom takes care of me when im sick LOL but the idea of doing it to a sick aether was too good i had to write a fic about it. also i love angst about aether being the traveler aaghgh

thank u sm for reading. as always, lmk what u think and i hope u liked it!! <3

[serpentandlily]

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - Eris x Reader

Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny V - Eris x Archeron!Reader

Summary: You find yourself ensnared by a sly, cunning fox. A very handsome, irritating one.

Warnings: angst, attempted SA, misogynistic language/beliefs, drugging (if you'd like more in depth warnings, feel free to dm me)

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

Part V

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

“One of the stableboys told me he spotted Lady Genevieve and Lord Vaughn sneaking out of the party together last week,” Willow said in a whisper as Ivy gasped in disbelief. 

You glanced up at them from where you were sitting at the table in Eris’s common room, sewing a hole shut on the skirt you had worn out to the woods with him yesterday. Your kiss had gotten…heated and your skirt had caught on a piece of bark on the tree Eris had you pressed against and ripped. Just thinking of it made your cheeks turn pink.

“And that’s scandalous, why?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at your handmaidens. They had insisted they repair your skirt for you but sewing was one of the skills you had actually acquired during your family’s time in poverty. Who else would’ve made sure Feyre’s hunting clothes stayed intact? 

“Well because Lady Genevieve is engaged to his brother, of course!” Ivy exclaimed. 

You opened your mouth to reply but a knock on the door made you pause. The three of you glanced at each other. Eris had mentioned he would be traveling to a nearby town for some business and wouldn’t return until morning. He advised you to stay inside with your handmaidens and take dinner in your room until his return. 

Ivy rose and made her way to the door, pulling it open to reveal one of Eris’s brothers. He placed a pale hand on the doorframe and gave her a charming, but unsettling, grin. His hair was longer than Eris’s, his stature a bit shorter and far bulkier than the refined quality your mate had. 

Ivy curtsied. “Lord Reid, how may I assist you?” 

“I’m here to escort my brother’s mate to dinner,” he purred. “Since he is unable to do so himself.” 

You stood, placing the skirt on the table as you glanced at Willow with uncertainty. Ivy’s pretty face paled. 

“B-but Lord Eris requested that Lady Archeron have dinner in his quarters tonight,” she stuttered out. 

The grin slipped from Reid’s face, a more threatening look taking over. “Are you denying me my request, nymph?”

He spat out the last word like a curse, making you flinch on your friend’s behalf. You had to bite your tongue from saying anything back knowing you’d likely just anger him further.

Ivy bowed her head. “Of course not, my Lord.”

You crossed the room, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and nudging her back. “Thank you, Ivy, I’ll take it from here.” 

That charming grin was back on Reid’s face as he looked down at you, but the look in his eyes made your legs shake. He held out his elbow like a proper escort and you had no choice but to take it, letting him pull you out of Eris’s chambers.

“Talk back to me again and I’ll have you whipped in the courtyard in front of everyone else,” Reid spat at Ivy. You gave her an alarmed look, but she shook her head at you discreetly—a warning to stay quiet. You bit your lip so hard it almost bled. 

Reid finally began to guide you down the corridor and you tried to keep your breathing under control, not wanting him to know how scared you were. Finnegan had been nothing like this, had not had that cruelty lingering in his eyes. 

“Has Eris returned?” You asked, swallowing harshly. “Is that why my presence is needed at dinner tonight?”

Reid looked down at you with a raised eyebrow, as if daring you to say more. You glanced away, not wanting him to see it as a challenge. You knew how females were regarded here. But you also wanted to know why you were being dragged down to the main dining area. 

“Are you not a part of this family now?” Reid remarked, his tone questioning but the sharpness of his words didn’t escape you. 

“Of course, my Lord,” you breathed, still staring at the floor. He hummed in response and continued to lead you down corridor after corridor until you made it to the formal dining room. 

You glanced up as you entered, taking note of who was present that you knew amongst the sea of strangers. The High Lord and his Lady, of course, as well as Finnegan and Eris’s other brother, Liam. Finn shot Reid a questioning look that went ignored while Liam sat with his eyes kept straight ahead of him. It was remarkable how alike they all looked, though none could match the beauty that Eris possessed. 

The Lady of Autumn, Seraphina, kept her eyes locked on the table—seated next to Beron who sat at the head of the table. Reid escorted you to the seat next to her, pulling out the large wooden chair for you. A feast was laid out on the table before you, empty plates set in front of each seat. A few other Lords and Ladies wandered in, taking seats at the other end of the table. You listened to their idle chit chat, clenching your skirt in your fists. 

“Why have you brought her here?” Finn hissed at Reid as the male took the seat next to him. “Eris is still in Pinecrest.” 

Reid shrugged. “I just wanted to make sure she felt included in our family. Lighten up, little brother.” 

Finn shot him a glare but Beron clanked his fork against his glass, drawing everyone’s attention. You half listened to his small speech, but focused mainly on trying to lessen the pounding of your heart. You felt so out of place, so alone here at this big table. No family. No mate. Just strangers all around you. Strangers with nefarious reputations.

Dinner began once Seraphina plated Beron his food and he took the first bite. It was like a breath of relief was let out amongst the fae at the table, their conversations picking back up. You sipped on your wine, trying not to draw attention to yourself but Reid had other plans, it seemed. 

“Have you lot had the pleasure of meeting Eris’s mate yet?” He asked, leaning back in his chair as he spoke to some Lords and Ladies. “This is her. Little thing, isn’t she? She is sister to the cursebreaker.” 

You felt the gazes of them on you as your cheeks turned pink. One of the ladies looked you up and down with a haughty look that made her face quite unpleasant to look at. 

“Are the rumors true?” She asked, her voice filled with faux innocence. “Were you truly a human before all of this?” 

“Indeed, she was,” Reid answered before you could even open your mouth. 

“How ghastly,” the female sneered, placing a hand to her chest as if she were clutching her pearls. “The Mother must’ve found it within her heart to give out some charity to those lesser the day she mated you with Lord Eris.”

Your face grew hot at her hateful words. You wished the floor would open up and suck you in whole just to get away from this table. But to your surprise, someone came to your defense. 

“Watch how you speak, Genevieve,” Finn spat. “She is soon to take the Vanserra name and if you insult her again, you'll find yourself in the position of all the others who dared to insult our family.” 

By the way Genevieve’s face paled, you could only imagine the punishment those people had faced. But hearing the familiar name caused a smile to blossom on your face. You cleared your throat and sat up. 

“Genevieve, is it?” You asked, blinking at her with wide, innocent eyes. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, Lady, or rather how much you enjoy parties.” 

Your eyes darted to the male sitting next to her. The male who looked so similar to the one gripping her hand in his. When you looked back at Genevieve, her face had paled even more. Her lips pressed into a thin line and she focused her gaze on her plate before her.

Reid leaned in close to whisper in your ear. “So the kitten has some claws after all.” 

You wanted to roll your eyes but instead, bit your lip again to prevent you from saying something that wouldn’t be taken well. Reid leaned further into your space, causing you to press against the back of your chair with raised eyebrows. He grabbed the dish of potatoes next to you before finally seating himself correctly in his chair.

You frowned when you noticed a second dish of potatoes on his other side, closer to him, but shook it off. He was trying to rattle you—that much was obvious. 

You nibbled on your dinner, not having an appetite while seated around these faeries. You sipped on your wine, cringing a bit as the bitter liquid slid down your throat. The wine in the Night Court was far sweeter than the wine here, it seemed. 

The longer the dinner went on, the hotter the room seemed to be getting. Was it because so many fire wielding fae sat here or was this room just particularly stuffy? You fanned at your face as discreetly as you could. 

Sweat began to dribble down the back of your neck, your skin tingling at the sensation. You clenched your skirt in your fists, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. The Lady of Autumn glanced at you, taking note of your reddening cheeks and behavior.

“Are you alright, dear?” Her voice was soft, quiet, and full of concern. It was the first time you’d heard her speak. 

“It’s just a bit warm in here, isn’t it?” You replied, fanning your face again. Gods, you were so hot. It was unbearable. 

The Lady of Autumn’s nostrils flared and her eyes went wide. She placed the back of her hand against your forehead, making a noise of displeasure before pulling it away. She waved a hand towards the servants who were milling about. Ivy and Willow darted forward from where they stood against the wall behind you. 

“Lady Archeron isn’t feeling well,” she whispered to your handmaidens. “Please escort her back to her chambers for the night.” 

Both of your handmaidens sniffed before their faces paled. Ivy held out a hand to you. “Come, my Lady, let us take you to your room.”

You grabbed her hand like it was a lifeline. You nearly groaned at the feeling of her skin against yours. They ushered you out of the dining hall, hurrying you down the corridor. 

“Something’s wrong,” you moaned, pitifully. Your skin was on fire now. An ache was forming in the lower part of your stomach. Like an unrelenting itch that needed to be scratched. 

“I think someone has slipped you a breeding tonic,” Willow hissed under her breath. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, her eyebrows furrowed.

“A what?!” You exclaimed but Ivy hushed you. You spoke in a whisper, thinking of how they had sniffed you, “How do you know that? Could you smell it in my drink or food?” 

“No, my Lady,” Ivy said, hesitantly. “But your scent…it’s…Well, it’s changed.” 

“My scent? But…oh.” If your face wasn’t already red, you were sure it’d be now. Gods, they could…smell you—your awakening arousal. You were mortified. “But who would do that?” 

“I don’t know.” Willow frowned. “It’s more important we get you to your chambers before any male scents you.” 

“Why? What…what does a breeding tonic do?” 

Your two handmaidens exchanged a look before Ivy answered, “Well, my Lady, it—well it's supposed to make a female more…willing when she’s in her marriage bed.”

Your skin was itching, flushed red from all the heat you felt. You tugged at the collar of your dress. It was agonizing. “How long is this supposed to last?”

“Just a few hours,” Willow said in a soft, comforting tone. “It’s not like most males need any more than a few minutes”

“Willow,” Ivy scolded. “Now is not the time for those kinds of remarks!”

You could hardly pay attention to their conversation, your mouth drying up as the effects of the tonic worsened—causing a violent need to be touched in places you’d never been. “What will happen if a male scents me now?” 

The two girls exchanged another look. “I’m afraid some males in this court have problems with their…restraint, my Lady. And your smell right now is rather enticing, for lack of a better word. It's best not to test them when it comes to these kinds of things.” 

All the color left your face.

Willow let out a noise of distress. “Which is why we should move faster—”

“Well, what do we have here?” The three of you froze in your tracks as you nearly ran into a group of three guards coming around the corner—all dressed in armor with Beron’s seal imprinted on the center of their chests. Fuck, it was a group of the High Lord’s personal guards. “Ah, it's the little bitch mated to our High Lord’s son.” 

Your face turned bright red. 

“Watch your mouth,” Willow snapped.

The guard backhanded her before you could even blink, causing her to crumble to the floor. Ivy gasped and rushed forward, kneeling next to her. Before you could follow her, one of the guards grabbed you by the upper arm, yanking you away from your two handmaidens. 

“What are you doing? Let me go! You can’t just hit—”

“Shut up,” the guard growled in your ear. Your eyes shot to Ivy who was helping Willow off the floor, the other girl holding her reddening cheek. 

“Talk like that to me again and I’ll do worse,” the head guard snarled at Willow. “Now get lost. You’ve been relieved of your duties, ladies. We can escort the girl back to her room.” 

You tried to pull your arm free, your heart pounding in your chest. Willow and Ivy looked inclined to protest, but then they both took a step away, sending you an apologetic look. You knew there was nothing they could do in this situation that didn’t put them in risk but maybe if they left, they could go get help. You tried to convey that message with your eyes and Ivy gave you a small dip of the head, like she understood. 

As the guard began to pull you away from them, she mouthed something to you: ‘The bond.’

Understanding her message, you started to tug on the glowing gold thread in your chest, panicking as you were dragged away. The guards were snickering with each other. “Do you smell that? I think the girls in heat, Captain. Maybe we can take her downstairs for some…fun before anything else.” 

You desperately tried to yank yourself free but the guard’s grip on your arm only tightened to the point of pain. “Let me go, you sick bastards!” 

The guard that had been identified as the Captain chuckled. “Good idea. I think she needs to be taught a lesson on how to properly treat a male, don’t you think?” 

The guards laughed with their agreement and you went feral trying to break away. “If you touch me, I swear to the Gods I’ll tell Eris! He’ll kill you!”

The guards only laughed harder. “Lord Eris won’t believe you over us, girl. Keep screaming though. I do love it when they fight back.” 

You were pulled down a stone stairwell, into a lower level of the Forest House. You screamed and fought against the guards, but with three of them and only one of you…it was hopeless. You tugged and tugged on the mating bond, not really sure how it worked but hoped you had gotten Eris’s attention and that he was on his way back. 

Tears poured down your cheeks and they tossed you in what seemed to be a large storage room. Crates full of goods, barrels of wine, and shelves filled with supplies crowded the room. The Captain slammed the door shut behind him as you were scuttling to stand up. You backed away from them, your eyes darting around for anything you might be able to use as a weapon—not that you had much training.

One of the guards lunged for you and you swiftly kicked him in the groin, sending him to his knees. “You stupid bitch!”

Using the commotion as a distraction, you took off running down the shelves, trying to keep them at a distance. But one of them was much faster, grabbing you by the collar of your dress. You let out a cry as your dress ripped down the back and you fell to your hands and knees, your chin smashing against the floor. You tasted blood in your mouth as the guard grabbed your foot and started to drag you back to him but you quickly flipped onto your back and kicked him right in the nose with your other foot, hearing a satisfying crunch. 

He let out a curse, blood pouring from his nose, and you scrambled to start running away again, holding your tattered dress up. You spotted a door at the end of the room and sprinted towards it, throwing it open and darting through it before slamming it shut behind you. 

You skidded to a stop once you realized the door had only led to a broom closet. Fuck, you had backed yourself into a corner. You covered your mouth with a hand, stifling your sobs as you heard footsteps pounding your way. With nowhere to go, you backed away to the wall, facing the door. You had no option but to try and fight your way out of this. 

The door to the closet slammed open and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the impact of a body against yours. But after a moment of silence passed, you slowly opened your eyes. They widened as they took in the guard standing in the middle of the closet, his eyes darting around the small space, passing over you several times. 

“What the fuck?” he grumbled.

“Stop wasting time,” one of the other guards shouted from outside. “Pull her out of there so we can have our fun.” 

“She’s not…She’s not in here!” 

“What do you mean she’s not in there?” One of the other guards shouldered his way into the closet, pushing the other male out. “What—I saw her run in here! We all did. Where the hell did she go?”

“Does she know how to winnow?”

You stood frozen as the two guards discussed your whereabouts. How could they not see you? You were literally standing right in front of them! You looked down at your body and almost gasped when you didn’t see any part of yourself. What the hell? What….what was happening? You could still feel the ground under your feet, still feel the wall at your back. You tried holding up a hand but nothing—you couldn’t even see your own hand!

“She wouldn’t be able to winnow unless she could break through the wards down here,” the other guard grumbled. “Wards set up by the High Lord, himself. There’s no way a former human could do that.” 

You could feel yourself panicking even more now because what was happening to you?

“What the fuck is going on down here?!”

The voice of your mate caused a sob of relief to leave your mouth and it seemed whatever magic you had been using sputtered out, causing the two guards to whip their heads towards you. You sank to the ground, still clutching your tattered dress, kohl marking the tear tracks down your cheeks. 

“Lord Eris, it’s not what it looks like—”

The Captain let out a spine-chilling scream before a snap was heard and a thump of a body hitting the ground. You pulled your knees to your chest, crying out for Eris. The two guards in the closet with you whirled around as Eris stalked towards them. They held up their palms, beginning to plead, but the feral rage on your mate’s face shut them up. You’d never seen Eris look so unhinged. His normally styled hair was in disarray, his cuffs rolled up to his elbow. 

His heavy boots slammed against the floor until he was right in front of them. Eris’s amber eyes darted to you for a second and flames erupted from the edges of his body. Your eyes widened in shock. His eyes fell back on the guards, his anger causing fire to even dance in his irises. 

“Lord Eris, we can explain!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Eris snarled before two whips made entirely of fire were summoned in his hands. He lashed them at the guards and they latched around their necks before he pulled them to their knees with it. Both of the guards started choking, trying to pull at the whips now strangling them but only burnt their hands to a crisp. 

“Imagine my surprise when I felt my mate’s terror down our bond while in negotiations with the Lords in Pinecrest,” Eris growled, wrapping the whip around his hand and yanking it tighter, forcing the guards’ faces to smash against the floor. “Only to show up and have her two handmaidens tell me three of my father’s guards were dragging her—my mate—down here to force themselves on her. Consider yourselves lucky she’s still sitting here because this death will be a mercy compared to the one I had planned for the three of you.” 

The guards started to screech in agonizing pain. Blood began to bubble out of their ears, eyes and mouth and it took you a second to comprehend that Eris was burning them to death from the inside out, boiling their blood. You whimpered, slapping a hand over your mouth and nose as the smell of burning human flesh spread through the small space. You squeezed your eyes shut at the horror happening before you. 

When the two guards finally slumped all the way to the ground, their eyes cold with death, Eris stepped over them and gently picked you up off the ground, cradling you to his chest. You clutched his shirt in your hands, crying as the adrenaline you had been fighting through wore off. 

“It’s okay, little bunny,” Eris murmured in your ear. “I’ve got you.” 

“I tried…I tried—”

You were sobbing with a flood of emotions. 

“I know, I know,” he hushed you, “you did good, little bunny. You did good holding them off until I got here.”

You were vaguely aware of him carrying you out of the basement and back up the stairs. The gasps of Ivy and Willow met your ears as he emerged with you in his arms.

“Is she okay?” 

“She is now,” Eris replied, his voice still filled with anger. “I’ve got it from here. Thank you, ladies, please retire to your rooms. I’ll make sure you face no repercussions from this.” 

“Take care of her, my Lord,” you heard Willow say before two footsteps started fading away. 

You kept your face buried in your mate’s chest until you were finally back in his chambers. Eris carried you into the bathroom before seating you on the counter. He took your face in his hand, twisting and turning it, examining you for injuries. He grabbed a small towel and wetted it, before beginning to clean the smears of makeup from your face. You sat still for him, still reeling from your shock. 

Eris’s touch was so delicate as he wiped your face, the cold water soothing your hot skin. A few minutes of silence passed as you watched him focus intently on his task, small flames still dancing in his eyes from his anger. 

“You came for me,” you whispered as he dabbed your cheek with the cloth. 

“Of course I did. I always will,” he murmured back. “I’m so sorry I wasn't here, bunny. I’m so sorry it took me so long to come back.” 

You shook your head. “It’s not your fault.”

His jaw ticked and he set the cloth down before placing a hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing your tears away. “It is. It is my fault you are in this situation. I’m so sorry that the Gods have cursed you with me.”

“Don’t say that.” You nuzzled your head into his hand. You stared up into his eyes, now noticing how dilated his pupils were—the amber color almost gone. His hand that wasn’t on your cheek was gripping the counter so hard, cracks were appearing on its surface. You suddenly remembered what started all of this. The damn breeding tonic someone had slipped you during dinner.

The breeding tonic that still had your skin on fire, still had desire pooling between your legs. And now that Eris was here, standing so close to you…His scent of crackling embers and warm cinnamon enveloped you with his own heat. Your arousal spiked, your eyes dipping to his lips. The need to kiss him, to be touched by him, was barrelling its way through you. 

You lurched forward and smashed your lips against his. Eris sucked in a breath and kissed you back with the same vigor until he came to his senses and pulled away from you, causing you to whine in displeasure. 

“Someone drugged you, bunny,” he grimaced. “I can’t…I won’t take advantage of you while you're still under its effects.” 

“Eris, please,” you begged, clenching your thighs together as the need to be touched grew and grew. “It hurts.” 

A small whine came from the back of his throat and you watched him fight against himself. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back down to kiss him again. You sighed as your lips made contact with his and he kissed you back with the same hunger. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until his body was pressed against yours.

Eris’s hardening cock nudged at the place between your thighs that was throbbing with desire and you gasped. With your lips parted, he slipped his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the taste of you, deepening the kiss and utterly consuming you. 

Eris kissed and kissed you—only letting up to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. You tossed your head back with a moan, granting him more access. You needed every inch of skin to be touched by him. By his fingers. By his lips. You ached, feeling terribly empty inside. His hand slipped under your skirt, gripping your thigh. 

But you could tell he was still restraining himself. 

Your own hands fell on his shirt, starting to undo his buttons.“Eris,” you groaned as he sucked on the delicate skin on your neck. “Tell me what to do. I’ve…I’ve never—”

You wished you had kept your mouth shut because Eris stopped for a second, his lips hovering over your skin. "What do you mean, you’ve never, bunny? You've never what? Never had sex?”

You nodded your head, biting your lip. 

“Fuck,” Eris groaned against your neck before sliding his nose up the column of your throat, inhaling deeply. “I’ll make it so good for you, baby. I promise.” 

You whimpered as his words, your fists clenching his shirt. But to your dismay, Eris merely pecked you on the lips before gently taking your hands and slowly ripping them off of him. 

“But not like this, bunny,” he murmured. “Not while you're drugged. Not after what happened today.”

“Eris, please.”

Any embarrassment you might’ve felt for begging simply did not exist when you felt so incredibly heated, needing him so much. Eris let out a long breath and took a step away from you, dodging your arms that tried to pull him back in. 

“Not like this, bunny,” he repeated. “Take a cold bath, okay? It’ll help you feel better. The tonic should wear off soon. I’ll be waiting for you out there.” 

“No, Eris, please—”

But he quickly left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You jumped off the counter and tried to open the door, but he must’ve used magic to lock it from the outside. You let out a whine, trying to tug it open to no avail. Your forehead dropped against the wood and you sighed. 

Fine, you’d take a stupid cold bath. 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

You sat in the cold water until your skin pruned and the effects of the tunic left your body. You rose from the bath, wrapping yourself in a towel. You noticed a pile of clothes waiting for you on the counter—a night gown and some underwear. You quickly slipped them on before finally leaving the bathroom. 

You froze in the doorway at the sight of Eris lounging on his bed, shirtless and twirling a dagger in his hand. He looked at you with a smirk and your cheeks turned bright red. Partly because he looked absolutely ravishing laying there with his toned chest and abs on display and partly because you were mortified by your behavior. 

“Don’t look so embarrassed, bunny,” he teased, setting the dagger down on his nightstand and patting the bed next to him. “Come here.” 

You shyly slid on the bed next to him, letting him take you in his arms. You let out a small breath, resting your head on his chest. It felt so right being here, in his embrace. Safe and perfect. Like his arms were the home you’d been looking for all your life. The mating bond sang in your chest. 

“Do you feel better?” 

You nodded, wordlessly. He muttered out a “good” before he started stroking your hair. You closed your eyes and melted into his arms. Tonight had been so scary. You didn’t even want to think about what would have happened to you if Eris hadn’t come in time to stop the guards. 

“I’m going to find out who drugged you,” Eris murmured. “And they’re going to pay for it.” 

“Eris, something…happened when I was down there with those guards,” you whispered, running your finger in swirling patterns on his chest. “When I was in the broom closet, it was like they couldn’t see me. I couldn’t see myself, either. It was like I had gone invisible.”

Eris hummed in thought. “Your sisters got powers from the cauldron, did they not? Did you get the same?” 

“No, I mean, I’ve never been able to do anything other than the basic stuff all High Fae can do,” you answered. “I’ve never shown any other sorts of power. I don’t think the Cauldron gifted me anything like it did with Elain. And I certainly didn’t try to steal from it like Nesta did.” 

“Yesterday, in the forest, you said something about me looking right at you and not seeing you,” Eris brought up. “I disregarded it at the time but…bunny, maybe the Cauldron did gift you something.”

“You think it gifted me something? Like what? The power of invisibility? I’ve never even heard of that!”

You hated that it made sense. Hated that, of course, the sister who had felt left behind, felt stuck in the background, unseen, would be gifted the power of invisibility. 

“Maybe it’s now finally emerging. Do you remember anything from that day?” 

You shook your head. “I remember being tossed into the Cauldron. I remember…I remember how it felt to be torn apart and put back together. But I don’t remember anything after that. I don’t even remember how I got out of the Cauldron or how I got to the Night Court afterwards.” 

“And you’ve never asked your sisters about it?”

“I did ask Feyre once she returned. But she told me I was unconscious when the Cauldron tipped me out and that Mor winnowed all three of us out that day.” 

“You know, after you left the meeting,” Eris remarked,

“Tamlin mentioned that you never came out of the Cauldron.”

“What? But that makes no sense! Why would he say that?” 

“There’s something Rhysand and Feyre are hiding. Wouldn’t be the first time the Night Court kept information from someone—especially Rhysand.”

You placed your chin on his chest, staring up at him with a small glare. “I know you don’t have a great relationship with my family, but my sister would not lie to me.” 

Eris raised an eyebrow, not looking convinced. “Maybe even your sister doesn’t know. Maybe Rhysand is lying to her, too. That kind of power…a lot of people would want to have someone like you in their court, bunny.” 

“He wouldn’t lie. Not to Feyre.”

You couldn’t help but defend your family. Eris seemed to let it go for now, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’ll figure it out, bunny.” 

You laid your head back down on his chest with a sigh. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Go ahead.” 

“What really happened with Mor that day in the forest, Eris? I need to know. I need to know before…before this can happen. I need to know why my family hates you so much.”

Eris let out a long breath. “I knew this would come up eventually. I’ll tell you, bunny, but you have to understand something. You got a taste of some of the horrors of this court tonight. Things I’ve been trying to put a stop to and change my whole life. But I can only do so much without my father suspecting me of being a traitor. And he’s not above killing any of his own sons.” 

The idea of Beron killing Eris caused both fear and rage to build up inside of you. Your grip on your mate tightened as you frowned. Eris ran his hand up and down your arm in a soothing motion. 

“When my father and Mor’s father forced a marriage alliance on the two of us, it was, in part, a test for me on my father’s behalf. I was young and not as careful as I should’ve been and I think he could see the rebellious attitude in me. I think he thought I’d stop at nothing to somehow make them rescind the alliance proposal.”

“You didn’t want to marry Mor?” 

“Gods, no,” Eris snorted. “And Keir is just as bad as my father. The thought of those two falling into a partnership…Anyways, my father forced me to make a bargain with him. See, he thought I’d fuck it up by trying to bed her before we were properly married. Which, of course, I wouldn’t have. But I played along, not wanting him to think of other things I might do. And he knew my one weakness at the time. My Mother. He made me bargain that I would not lay a single finger on her before we were wed and if I did, he would out my mother for an affair she had and punish her with death.”

You gasped and sat up to look at him. “Eris, that’s awful!” 

“I thought so too,” Eris chuckled, mirthlessly. “So that day Keir dumped Mor in the forest, beaten to near death, I knew if I touched her the bargain would alert my father and though I doubt that would’ve counted in his eyes, he still would’ve taken her and some who knows what. I couldn’t alert anyone about her either because the guards that were with me that day were my father’s personal ones. They watched my every move and reported them back to my father. I had to make a choice, one that haunts me to this day.” 

“The choice to keep your mother safe,” you said. “And to not let your father know that Mor was there, in your court?” 

He nodded his head. “Yes. I lingered in the area long enough to catch sight of that Illyrian brute’s shadows and knew he’d come sniffing around for her. So I made sure the guards were far away so he could slip in and out without them alerting my father.” 

“And all these years,” you said, sadly, “All these years no one knew the truth of why you made that decision. No one except you and your father?” 

“The Night Court’s hasn’t always had an outstanding reputation, bunny,” Eris replied. “I didn’t know if I could trust them. And when I realized they already decided I was as much of a monster as my father, I had little interest in convincing them otherwise.”

“But Eris, you deserve better than that—”

“No, bunny, I don’t,” Eris sighed. “I’ve done a lot of bad things. I can only hope that things might change when my father is no longer on the Autumn throne.” 

You linked your fingers with his, grasping his hand. “As long as it’s you sitting on it, Eris, I think they will. You are not what people think you are. You are not a monster.” 

“I don’t care what everyone thinks. I don’t care if I’m the villain in their stories,” Eris said. “I only care that I’m not the monster in yours.” 

You folded your arms on his chest, plopping your chin on the back of your hands to stare up at him. 

“You’re no monster to me. You’re my sly fox,” you teased. 

Eris gave you his signature fox-like grin that caused butterflies to flutter around in your stomach. Your heart beat to the same rhythm of the mating’s bond soft melody. You could hear his beating too. 

“And you are still my dumb, little bunny.” 

· · ─────── ·♡· ─────── · ·

a/n: I don't normally like making characters virgins but I felt like it fit this character in particular. Hope you liked this part!!

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*If you asked to be on the taglist and you don't see your username, tumblr wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :(

[woewriting]

bloodlines

pairing: wednesday addams | vampire reader word count: 1595 warnings: mdni, +18 only! blood mention/drinking, reader's a vampire duh, no pronouns used, thigh riding, small master x pet dynamics at the end. a/n: first wdw in weeks... just a small thing for my vampire fellas.

masterlist

Your leg bounced up and down, the almost inaudible sound of the heel of your shoes hitting the wooden floor annoying the girl sitting next to you on the bed, the movements of your legs and the way you chewed on your bottom lip enough to get her annoyed.

Closing the book, Wednesday turned to you, eyes alternating between the irritating move and your features.

“Can you stop with that infuriating sound? It’s distracting me.”

“Uh?” You look at Wednesday, eyes darting from yours to your bouncing leg in a silent answer. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice it.”

“Now that you do, stop it.”

“I can’t control it.”

Wednesday took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rest on top of your knee, forcing you to stop. Somehow, your leg was still shaking under her touch and now, a heatwave spread inside your body at the sudden touch, a bright red color threatening to take over your vision, a sharp pain in your gums.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to take control over your instincts. But Addams being so close to you with her almost unnoticeable perfume and hand on your thigh, it was hard and any small thing coming from her was enough to get you to lose control.

“You’re starving, aren’t you?” All you could do was nod, not wanting her to see the sharp fangs that sunk on the inside of your mouth. Removing her hand from your leg, you felt a weight being placed on top of your body instead. “Open your eyes, let me take a look at them.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“I wasn’t asking. Open them now and look at me.”

Despise the calming way she spoke, her words and demanding tone were enough to get you to do as you were told, unable to resist the smell she had; It was like a spell placed on you.

Wednesday brought her hands to your face, opening your lips to see the sharp fangs you were hiding, pressing the tip of a finger under one, a single drop of raven blood poking out of the small wound was enough to cover your lower lip with her movement.

“Wends…” You warned with a hoarse voice, controlling the impulse to lick the sweet blood off of your lip.

The dark, silky sheets under your hands ripping off around your nails, stopping you from digging the skin of her waist. Knowing Wednesday, she would definitely make you pay for a new set.

Ignoring the warning timbre in your voice, Wednesday opened her white blouse, dragging the fabric away from her shoulder area along with the strip of her bra.

“Take it.”

“No.”

“If you want to keep that snarky tongue of yours, I suggest you to stop fighting and just do as I am telling you to.”

The second you focused on the cold, pale skin, of her neck, everything around you turned red, melting as you caught the sound of her blood flowing through her body, the steady pace of her heartbeat, muffling every small sound that surrounded the both of you.

All you could hear, see and smell, came from the small girl sitting on your lap. And that was all that matters.

The red, warm, sweet blood that kept her alive. The blood of a Raven, Wednesday being the last one of her bloodline known to you.

Noticing the lack of motion coming from your frozen body, the Addams girl gently tugged you by the back of your head, bringing you closer to her.

“Take it.” She whispered; fingers lost in your hair. “It’s all yours.”

“All mine…” You replied, lost in your red reality, barely processing what left her lips, all you could hear, loud and clear, was the pumping of her jugular, the sweet blood rushing through her veins.

Leaning in, your nose brushed on the cold skin, taking a deep breath. The ghostly touch causing the other to close her eyes. You opened your mouth, enough for the tip of your tongue to touch her, a surprised sigh coming from Wednesday.

“I profoundly hate when you do that.”

“Are you sure? Because I can hear every beat of your heart.” You placed a kissed near her collarbones. “And the way your thighs are pressing against mine.” Another kiss, a little bit higher.

“Stop talking. It’s an order.”

You laughed against her, hands slowly moving from the silky sheets to her thighs. “You’re in no place to boss me around, Addams.”

“I thought you enjoyed being my little pet.”

“I enjoy more when you’re my prey.”

Looking into your eyes, Wednesday could barely see the color of it, dark red mixed with golden strings covering most of your iris, pupils dilated in a black color. The veins under your eyes, disappearing and appearing as if it was following the beat of a music, little did she know it was synchronized with her own heartbeat.

It always felt like that, to be under her spell, if felt paralyzing, something in the way Wednesday smelled and tasted like, so sweet it was like drinking honey.

For her, having your teeth sinking in her neck, poison spreading through your saliva turning the pain into pleasure in just a few seconds. She would never admit, but being your personal blood bag made the pain settle in between her thighs.

She needed you as much as you needed her.

Why else would she sit on your lap and keep you around? Allowing you to follow every single step of hers like a lost puppy, holding you on a tight leash, stopping you from biting others like a misbehaved puppy.

Gulping, she licked her lips, your eyes following every single movement of her body. She felt like an addicted waiting for the next jet of poison, it’s been days since the last time you fed on her.

“Did you drink from somebody else?” You shook your head. You tried to, actually, blood bags, human blood straight from the vein, animal blood that you captured with Eugene’s help; they all tasted like garbage. “Then why are you refusing to do as I tell you to?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

A small grin tugged on her lips. “I want you to hurt me.”

A gush of adrenaline ran in the veins under your eyes the second you heard her whisper, eyes filled with a specific glow that you almost never see in Wednesday: excitement.

The moment your fangs dug in the cold skin, a low moan escaped between Wednesday’s parted lips, the fingers in your hair pulling you impossible closer. The hot, thick red liquid filled your mouth, the iron taste almost unnoticeable, being replaced by a sweet taste that only she had.

Throwing her head back in an attempt to give you more access to her neck, she didn’t even notice that small rhythm her hips were following against your legs, rubbing herself on you. Her scent, stronger than ever, filling every centimeter of your lungs like smoke.

Moving your hands to her hips, you bruised the covered skin as you helped her steady movements. Opening her lips to take a deep breath soon became a breathless moan, your name escaping her parted lips as you drank more and more from her, the poison spreading through her veins as you lick the open wound, capturing what escaped from your hungry mouth before biting her again.

Wednesday was weak in your arms, the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach getting hotter and hotter as she rounded her hips on your leg, a wet stain on the fabric of your jeans as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head and body falling back, being held by your hands.

Switching positions, you laid the small girl on her bed, dark silky sheets embracing her body as you laid on top of her to lick around her neck, not wasting a single drop of the precious blood that you couldn’t go without.

Kissing your way up to her face, Addams still had her eyes closed, a fainted reddish color spread on her cheeks as she came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, she was met with your golden ones, shining like a star in the night sky. She caressed your face, thumb swiping your lips to collect the thick liquid that covered them before gently sucking on them, maintaining the eye contact; a satisfied hum in her throat.

“Kiss me. I want to taste my blood on your tongue.”

As she commanded, you connected your lips together in a kiss that was soft at first, turning to bruising and desperate as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, lips wrapping around your tongue to get more of it before she breaks the kiss, hands moving to your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused, as she tried to push you down, but you, being stronger than her, didn’t move an inch.

“I need your tongue somewhere else, and I need it now, so be a good pet and collaborate with me.”

Wednesday was nearly screaming inside, her weak body in desperate need of you, one of the collateral damages from your poison. And the way you smelled, the way your hands touch her body, it was a lot more than just the venom that rushed in her veins, there was something else in the brownish glow that stared at you. You smiled.

“As you wish, master.”

[knightjpg]

analgesia

It's not the first time he's got himself skunk drunk when back home on leave, and part of you resents his decision for joining the military. Clearly that has to be the reason for him living it up like it's his last goddamn night on Earth at every opportunity, right? You're more familiar with his sloppy cheek kisses and wandering hands while you get him home than you'd like, but such are the burdens of best friend privileges. It's Johnny—harmless, familiar. A little stupid and a lot sweet.

tags: dubcon, johnny/reader, alcohol mention, unprotected piv (wrap it up kids)

“Fuck's sake, Johnny, keep your feet—!”

Johnny just laughs and leans all of his weight on your shoulder again, making you squeak and scramble for balance. 

“Le's dance, bonnie, c'mon, we gotta go dancin’,” he slurs in your ear. 

A laugh bubbles up your throat before you can help it. You're tired and annoyed and exasperated, but it's just so damn hard to stay angry at Johnny with his big blue puppy eyes and the way he's always smiling like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn't have. 

Dancing... Ridiculous. He can't even walk in a straight line. 

“No,” and you try to sound firm through your smile. “We're going home, and we're getting you a glass of water. You stink.” 

Johnny answers you with a full-on whine, burying his nose in your shoulder and scratching against your skin with his stubble. “Why're you s'mean. Why d’ye hate me.” 

"If I hated you I’d dump your ass at a bus stop and leave you to sober up by yourself.” You hoist his arm more securely around your shoulder while you walk, thanking every higher being you can think of for wearing sensible sneakers tonight. Johnny's leaning into you so hard you have to lean back an almost equal amount just to stay upright and keep shuffling forward. 

And so when he suddenly stops you almost fall face-first on the hard stone pavement. “What—” 

You can see Johnny turn pale even under the dim lantern light, and he presses a hand to his mouth before doubling over— 

“No no no please don't throw up—” 

...and retching his guts out in the gutter. You allow yourself a deep sigh and watch your breath turn into a puff of cloud while listening to Johnny heave the alcohol out of his system. It's so dark out you can even make out the flicker of some stars when you look up, winking in and out of existence as the opaque curtains of cloud drift by. 

When he's done you look down and wince at the stains on his shoes. He's shivering, and pity has you rubbing a hand over his shoulder. 

“Ah dinnea feel s’good,” he mumbles. 

“I can see that. C'mon, big boy. It's gonna be okay.” 

He unsteadily lets you help him to his feet again. He's been feeling off all night, and you watch him with a mixture of worry and sadness. 

It's not the first time he's got himself skunk drunk when back home on leave, and part of you resents his decision for joining the military. Clearly that has to be the reason for him living it up like it's his last goddamn night on Earth at every opportunity, right? 

You're more familiar with his sloppy cheek kisses and wandering hands while you get him home than you'd like, but such are the burdens of best friend privileges. It's Johnny—harmless, familiar. A little stupid and a lot sweet. 

But it's never quite felt like this. He was all smiles tonight until... 

Until when? 

You don't know what set him off. You were with the usual crew, old friends. Everything seemed fine—Johnny'd been playing darts with some of the other lads and you'd been with the girls, gossiping over dates and breakups and relationship advice. 

You'd shyly told them the bloke you'd gone out with last week called you back asking for another date, and were hounded afterwards for details. You'd been having fun until you weren't. Or rather, until you were too distracted by Johnny slamming back drink after drink with tense shoulders and tight eyes. 

You sigh again when you reach your apartment. You had plans for tomorrow, but... You glance at Johnny. His head's slumping forward till his chin is almost touching his chest. You don't want to leave him feeling sick by himself. 

Johnny's drunkenly mumbling to himself while you fish around your bag for your keys with one hand. One of his arms curls around your waist, making it harder, and then his hand wanders high enough to grope at your breast. 

“Chrissake, Johnny,” you smack his arm. “Play nice. I'm trying to—” 

“Love ye s’much, bonnie,” he mumbles against your neck, hand not moving an inch even with your nails digging into his skin. If anything it makes him cling to you more tightly, and you're worried he'll fall and break his thick stupid head if you push him off you with more force. 

“Yes, yes, love you too. Idiot. Now let go, I want to get out of the cold...” 

Somehow you manage to move around his iron grip and click open the door. You put up with his slobbering against your neck because it makes him a lot easier to deal with getting up the stairs and then, fucking finally, you're in your apartment where it's warm and cosy. 

You shuffle over to the bedroom because it's closest and there's just absolutely no way Johnny's going to fit on your couch. You've tried. It's not worth putting up with the complaining about back pain the next morning. 

Johnny flops onto the mattress and just when you think the finish line is in sight, his hand snatches yours so quick it's a blur. 

“Dinnea leave...” 

“Have to get you a glass of water,” you tell him gently, trying and failing to pry his fingers off your wrist. 

“Dinnea want ye t’fuckin’ leave...” his voice breaks in the middle and you stop short for a second—is he crying?  

God, how drunk is he...? You'd hoped throwing up would have counted towards sobering up, but apparently not. 

“Shush, it's okay, it's okay. We'll get you some water and you'll sleep it off, alright?” 

Johnny slurs something you don't catch and you take the opportunity to slip away and get him a glass. You make him drink it all, even manage to get him to rinse his mouth. He does as you say without fuss, wavering between stubborn as a rock and pliantly obedient as always. 

“You're a handful and a half,” you say, but without any real heat to it. You brush back strands of brown hair—his mohawk's been growing out. He'll probably ask you to cut it again before he returns to base... 

When he starts to slump over again you quickly take the glass from him and set it on the bedside table, and push against his shoulder to get him to lie on his back. “Christ, what are they feeding you,” you mumble to yourself. He's got to be bigger every time you see him—you don't think you could fit two hands around his arm. 

When you pull back to get Johnny a blanket he grabs at you again, and this time you're too caught off guard to keep your balance. You fall half on top of him with an ‘oomf!’ and narrowly avoid kneeing him in the groin. 

“Give me a fucking break,” you huff when he takes this as the go-ahead for a nice cuddle. Those thick arms immediately wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Love ye s’much,” he slurs again, mouth tucked just below your ear. Every time he moves his lips it's like he's kissing you, and despite everything you have to suppress a few shudders. “So fuckin’ bonnie. Was lookin’ at ye all night. Wanted t’go dancin’ with my girl, take ye home...” 

You flush. It always takes you by surprise, the drunk ‘my girl’s, to the point where you asked him about it one time. Johnny just laughed and shrugged. “You are my girl. Known you the longest since forever, aye?” 

You pointed out that's not quite what it means, and the only reply you got was that he wouldn't call you that if it bothered you. It's a promise he forgets every time he goes out, though... 

“You're drunk,” you tell him. 

“M'not,” he says, breath hot against your neck. It's followed by something wet, and you jolt in his arms. 

“What’re you—Johnny, gross, what the hell!” 

He licks at you again, and the twitch that follows is involuntary. Your neck is sensitive and, well, so what if it's been a while? The guy you're planning to see next week was going to fix that. Not Johnny. He's not... He's not supposed to be— 

“Taste s’fuckin’ good,” Johnny groans against your neck. The bed shifts and creaks, and this time there's a graze of teeth.  

“Wait,” you gasp, voice suddenly thin and airy and so distracted by Johnny biting at your skin it takes more than a few minutes for you to realise the bed is creaking because he's humping your thigh. 

An embarrassed heat zaps through you right to your core, and the intensity of it makes you break out into a sweat. 

“Johnny, Johnny, wait—” 

He outright moans when you say his name, hands squeezing your waist before sliding down to cup your ass and angling your hips to slot his own into. “Make it so good for you, kitty, need ye s’bad...” 

Jesus Christ. Mortifyingly you can feel yourself getting wet. Just—the proximity, the heat, the electricity running up your spine every time his big hands slide over your thighs. You feel trapped, suffocated, almost, and unfortunately the fact that you can't get away from him even if you try makes the dizzy feeling in your stomach spin harder. 

When Johnny sucks at your neck and roughly tugs up your shirt to knead your chest through your bra there's a few seconds of white-out bliss, and you seriously consider giving in and just— 

No. He's drunk. Probably barely has any idea what he's doing—never remembers what he said or did the next morning. You can already imagine the apologetic hugs, the huge pleading eyes. He'd feel terrible. 

“You're drunk—you're drunk, c'mon, Johnny, we can't, we gotta...” you cut yourself off to muffle the moan that threatens to slip when Johnny ducks his head down and starts giving your chest open-mouthed kisses.  

“No,” you protest weakly, unsure if you're telling him or yourself, because despite your good intentions you really don't want him to stop. Would it be so bad? Would it be so bad if you let Johnny make you feel good? He won't remember, will honestly probably pass out before anything actually happens, and... and... 

“We gotta be—gotta be smart, Johnny, oh—” his name comes out as a sob when he flicks your nipple with his tongue, and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

“Say my name, bonnie, sound s’fuckin’ pretty for me... Gonna make ye sing, make ye feel so good,” Johnny pants against your skin. One of his hands worms its way down, almost rips the buttons off your pants, cups your core right through panties. You shake from just that, back arching, hips stuttering away and then back towards him because this is unfair. Isn't drunk sex supposed to be shite? Why is he making it work? What's wrong with you? 

Johnny moans loudly, unlike you completely unashamed and uninhibited and very happy to let you know that you're “So fuckin’ wet for me—tha's for me, aye? All mine? Fuck, tha's good—Sweet little cunt...” 

You push at his shoulders with less and less conviction. You try tugging at his mohawk to get his attention, desperate not to have to be the voice of reason here, but all that does is make him shudder and bite at your tits. 

And neither gets him to take his hands out of your pants, though he very quickly decides just feeling you soak your panties isn't good enough. With a lot more alacrity than you should reasonably expect of him he pushes aside your underwear, starts flicking your clit, and sticks his tongue down your throat to eagerly drink down your sounds of pleasure. 

“Missed ye so much, miss my girl all the time,” he whines into your mouth. You can feel his cock thick and erect through his jeans, still rubbing against your hip, and you shiver, because Johnny's stupid big fingers are working you to completion at a rollercoaster pace. But when you start to tremble, breaths coming short and quick and needy— 

He stops. 

“No!” you whimper, sounding as pathetic and desperate as you feel. If he falls asleep now you're going to kill him. 

But Johnny hasn't fallen asleep. When you crack your eyes open you look right into his, glittering in the half-dark of your room. When he speaks his voice is husky, low and tight with desire coating the edges. 

“Tell me y’need me, aye? Wee lil’ cunt need me so bad?” 

To punctuate his question he flicks at your clit again, and when your hips jolt in response his free hand presses them down into the mattress. Keeping still. 

There's a split second of doubt, the voice of reason rearing its head in the back of your mind. This isn't right—he's drunk. You've just started seeing someone, kind of, not quite dating yet, but it wouldn't be fair—right? 

You can't quite catch Johnny's expression in the low light, but the edges of him seem to sharpen when you don't answer right away. In one fluid motion he pushes himself up to hover over you, knee nudging your legs open wider, and presses his forehead against yours before starting excruciatingly slow circles on your clit. 

You gasp and pant and can't do anything except lie there and let the weight of both his body and his gaze pin you to the bed, helpless and mortified at your own body's response. Because even though it's slow you are soaking him, him and yourself. Your jeans are ruined; your underwear is a joke. You're pretty sure if Johnny pulled away now his hand would be wet up to the wrist. 

And you don't want him to pull away. You almost cry in relief when he speeds up his rhythm, so glad you don't have to make a decision after all and can simply receive whatever the alcohol in Johnny wants to give you... 

Until he stops. Right on the edge, mean fucker, and this time tears slip past your lashes. “No, no, please, please, you can't—please, Johnny...” 

“Tha's better,” he says roughly, the hand on your hip travelling up to pinch at your nipple until you try to wriggle away from him. “Love ye so much, kitty. Tell me you love me, c'mon.” 

“I—” you swallow, mouth feeling dry despite all of Johnny's slobber. This feels like more than it should be. You love your friends. You love Johnny. But— 

“Y’want it?” One of his thick fingers prods at your entrance without ever really entering, and the promise of relief so close is what breaks you. 

“Yes,” you whimper. “I want it. Please. Please...” 

Your reward is one thick finger slowly entering you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and sob at the sensation. It's almost—almost—everything you've ever needed. Johnny's breath has gone ragged above you, eyes glued onto your every expression. 

“Y’need me, aye? Say it. Say you need me.” 

“I need you,” you manage to stutter out, the last vowel of which transforms into a drawn-out moan when it gets you a slow crook of his finger inside you. It's so fucking slow, Jesus H., but it's something. If he stops now you're going to lose your mind. 

Your desperation along with your evident arousal softens Johnny, and he coos at you while he fingers you. “Don't hav’ta go anywhere, jus’ stay right here with me, give you everythin’ you need...” 

It'd almost be sweet if you could think straight, and you should be, you're supposed to be the one keeping a clear head, but it's really hard to think anything at all when Johnny's messily kissing you again. 

“Pretty girl,” he groans when you squeeze around his finger. “My pretty girl. Ye love me? D’ye love me, bonnie?” 

Your stomach is tightening and with a spike of panic you rush to answer this time: 

“Yes, yes, Johnny, love you—” 

How unfair that that makes him stop. He looks at you, eyes big and wild, cheeks flushed, like a kid opening a Christmas present he was told his parents didn't have the money for. And then he pulls away entirely to rip your jeans off. By the time it catches up to you, you barely have the wherewithal to raise your hips to help him. 

His own clothes follow suit so quickly you fear for the fabric, and then realise it's yourself you should be worried for. You had an inkling of Johnny's size, have woken up to it pressing against your ass too many times to count, but... 

That's not going to fit, you think wildly, and Johnny must see some of the panic on your face, because while he lines his thick leaking tip up to your soaking cunt his other hand pets at your cheeks, lingers on your throat. “Doing so good, bonnie, gonna make ye feel so good, fill you up so nice...” 

His moan fills the room when he slides in another few inches, bounces off the walls and ricochets inside your head. It doesn't hurt, thank God—you're drenched and desperate and at this point frankly impatient. 

Johnny slides in deeper and tugs your legs around his waist, makes you keep them there when he bottoms out and lets out a wild groan from somewhere deep in his chest. You can feel it in your own, pressed against you as he is. 

“Perfect girl,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then slamming them back into yours. “Fuckin’ mine—all f’r me.” 

This time you're not sure who leans in for the kiss first. It doesn't matter anymore. Your moans and whimpers steadily grow in volume until you're crying under Johnny, clinging to him while he fucks you following a rhythm too quick and wild to try to meet. 

When he presses his thumb to your clit again it barely takes anything to ignite the fire again, wild and hot and ready to boil over. Johnny coos at you again when your mouth drops open in long, silent cry, cunt clenching around him hungrily. “Tha's it, bonnie, feel so good, aye? Pretty kitty feelin’ so good? Fuckin’ made for me, gonna fuck ye so full—” 

It doesn't take long for him to do exactly that. You can feel his cum filling you, hot and heavy, long spurts accompanied by Johnny's desperate moans and whimpers. 

You whine when he collapses on top of you to give you more lazy, open-mouthed kisses—“You're heavy, Johnny, get off”—and try to catch your breath in the two seconds of reprieve you get before he's pulling you into his chest. 

You're spent. Sweaty, flushed, and boneless. The sheets are no doubt disgusting, but it's so late and you're too fucked-out to care. You file it away for tomorrow, just like the hundred other things you're going to have to talk about somehow... 

Johnny lets out a deep, contented sigh, tucking you under his chin and pulling your leg over his waist like he's rearranging a doll. You don't have the strength in you to protest. It's only when you feel his cock prodding at you again that you jolt away from him and try to remove your leg, but Johnny frowns, clicking his tongue like he would at a disobedient pet.  

“I want to sleep, Johnny, 'm tired...” 

Johnny tuts softly, keeping you still with a firm grip while he enters you again. “’S just for keepin’ it all in, bonnie, dinnea fuss. See? ‘S nice all full like this, aye? Wake ye up all nice ‘n proper tomorrow.” 

You wriggle in his grasp with a soft whine—Johnny's cock is girthier than any other you've had before and you're sore from being used like a battering ram, even if it felt mind-numbingly good. But Johnny's arms are iron, and the more you try to move around the tighter he holds you to him. 

Eventually you give up and give in. Sleep is tugging at you insistently, and when you relax around him it's not so bad. Johnny kisses you when he feels you settle, his hand running soothingly over your bare skin. 

It's enough for you to be lulled into sleep. Before you drift off one last thought surfaces: 

Isn't Johnny supposed to be good at holding his liqueur...? 

[rishiguro]

hi rin! i recently came across your blog from an angst scenario and i was wondering if you would be able to do a jjk version of “characters throwing their wedding ring” i live for angst haha and i’m really glad i found your blog! also i’m 20!!

JJK CHARACTERS WHEN THEY THROW THEIR WEDDING RING

feat. nanami; toji; gojo; shoko; getou

a/n: angst rules ngl. thank you for your suggestion, i hope u enjoy this (because i for sure enjoyed writing this)

haikyuu version

arguments usually weren’t heated with NANAMI. the two of you believed in open and honest communication so it was rare that either one of you would start yelling. so to say the least, hearing his voice boom in the living room and seeing him so enraged was shocking. you couldn’t focus on him anymore as he continued his rant, face slightly red from his booming voice. but you couldn’t even lift your head to look at him, eyes fixed on the ring laying on the floor — the ring that was supposed to be on his ring finger as a symbol of your eternal love. that was until one second the yelling stopped. as you looked up you saw your husband frozen, gaze downcast in guilt.

loving TOJI could be hard sometimes. he was argumentative, hot-headed and selfish. he didn’t seem to care what buttons he pushed and just how much hurt he would cause. you were terrified to see just how easy he managed to slip the ring off and throw it carelessly to the side right before slamming the door behind him. what you couldn’t see however was him dropping down right after, his back against the wood, with his head between his knees. his breathing shuddered as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the skin. there was one thing he was sure of — he loved you. could you love him, regardless of how fallible he was?

GOJO was truly special — in one way or another. yet he always made sure to treat you as his equal, because that’s what you were to him. he loved you more than anything and anyone and he never had any problems admitting that. and you never doubted him because he never gave you a reason to. but now you did. “please,” his voice was muffled behind the door, “please let me in” the second you left the room he was right behind you, his pleads for you cut off by the door slamming into his face. “i love you,” he insisted, his hands outstretched. he wanted nothing more than to step into the room and fall on his knees right in front of you, beg for your forgiveness. and he could — but he couldn’t. he shouldn’t. because this wasn’t about what he needed or wanted but about how he hurt you and what you needed from him.

one of SHOKO’s strengths was being level-headed, no matter how serious or loaded the situation might be. she was always aware of what she was doing and of how it might affect others — which is why this hurt even more. she couldn’t explain to herself why she thought for even just a second that throwing her wedding ring, the one the two of you chose together, at you was the right thing to do. she clenched her jaw, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. she should turn around, go back to you, apologize, beg for your forgiveness. and yet here she was, running away from the one thing she loved and hurt the most — you.

GETOU was aware of his faults. he was a passionate and smug man, going so far as to call himself condescending. and while he was confident that he was able to control his emotions and be a good person and especially a good partner, he soon realized that this wasn’t always the case. his face was pale, a shocked expression etched into it. he looked stunned, shaking his head in disbelief with his eyes staring on his hand. this had to be a dream, there was no way he would do such a thing. he told himself he was going to be good to you, always keep you safe and happy. this couldn’t be true, it had to be a dream, a nightmare. but if it was a dream, why wouldn’t he wake up, safe and secure with your loving arm around him?

reblogs are appreciated

[latenightdaydreams]

Can you write about Konig and stepmother! Reader. When he came back to visit his father in his hometown after years of deployment and he saw stepmother!reader who is young and curvy with large breasts and then...they fuck=))) Not forcing, love your writing btw

This is such a hot idea 😮‍💨I had so many ideas so I just had to pick one and write! Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy the story! Have a great day♥️

König x Stepmother!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

Part2

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>cw: fem/ afab reader, step mom, p in v, age gaps, mentions of breeding

2.6k word count

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König sat on his bed in his quarters and yanked his mask off of his face as his hands grasped a wedding invitation for his father’s 4th wedding. König looked at the elegant font and design before rolling his eyes and tossing the invite into the trash. After his father walked out on his mother, he has had no interest to keep up with him. It’s pathetic how a 73-year-old man keeps bouncing from wife to wife. König wouldn’t give this marriage a year. Yet, it was still his father and he made sure to try and make it to his city once he went back home to visit.

Still dressed in his full military uniform he finds himself standing outside of his father’s door. He takes a deep breath as he gets ready to see his dad again and meet whoever was stupid enough to marry the man. His hands go under his mask to adjust it slightly. Deciding to get it over with, he raises his hand and knocks on the door.

The door opens and he expects to see his 6’4 slender and frail old man of a father, but instead he sees you, his new step mom. You open the door with such warmth and radiance it’s as if the sun light behind you was coming from you. He stood there with a blank stare for a moment, trying to process the site before him. His eyes traveling down your frame to see the way your breasts are barely contained within you summer dress, you don’t look a day over 30, even young for König’s 46-year-old self. He swallows hard, no way this is his step mom.

“König?” Your voice smooth like silk with an accent sends a shiver down his spine.

“Ja, and you’re…”

“Y/N,” your hand is so small and delicate within his own as he grabs yours to shake. He tries to control his gaze as they step into the house.

“Your father is just over here,” you say walking ahead of König as you both make your way to the living room. König’s eyes glued to your ass jiggling and the way your hips sway with every step. His mind jumping through hoops trying to understand how his dad could have possibly landed someone as fucking hot as you.

Walking up to his father König holds a hand out for him to shake, his eyes piercing down at the old man with a look of distain.

“Hallo, how have you been old man?” König asks as he sits, his eyes trailing back to his new step mom as she sits on the arm rest next to his dad.

“Great son, have you met my old ball ‘n chain?” Felix hand creeping around your waist.

König suppresses the eyeroll he feels at his dads comment about his new wife. His new soft, big breasted wife.

“I have, she’s lovely.” His piercing pale blue eyes meet your gaze as he says these words. His dad too oblivious to notice the lustful gaze his son was giving his new wife.

A small blush forms on your cheeks as König calls you lovely. You smirk and look over his body. He is massive. A younger, bigger version of Felix. You wonder if everything is bigger.

“Well, I’m happy I finally get to meet you. Felix has told me so much about you.”

“Has he now?” König asks while looking at his father, Felix’s eyes glued to watching the TV.

“Can I get you something to drink König? I’m sure you’re wore out from all of the traveling.” You stand to your feet and smooth out your dress as you wait for his reply.

König’s throat was dry and he most definitely could use something to drink, but he didn’t want water, he wanted you to squirt in his mouth. He shakes his head to snap out of the thought.

“Uh, yes please.” König stands and walks past his father following you into the kitchen. His dad too out of it to even keep interest in a conversation with him, he wonders how you do it.

You walk into the kitchen and tiptoe to get a glass for König when you feel a large hand on your side, making you shiver.

“Here, let me help.” König says casually as if his heart isn’t beating out of his chest from the sensation of touching your waist. His hand resting on the curve of your perfect hour glass shape as his mind begins to wonder how sexually fulfilled you actually are with his father. He quickly pushes the thought aside as he hands you a glass.

“Thank you, König.” You grab the glass from his eyes all the while gazing deeply into his blue eyes. Snapping out of it you turn and go to the fridge as you begin to fill the glass with water. “So, your dad tells me you’re a Colonel?”

“I am,” König eyes you intently wondering why you’re actually here with his dad, you could be with anyone. “How long have you been with my father?” He takes the cup of water from you, your fingers grazing his making him feel a spark.

“A little over four years now.” You reply leaning against the counter in the kitchen.

König’s eyes land on your breasts again before he looks down at his glass and takes a long drink. He couldn’t think of any appropriate questions to ask you. From are your breasts real to can his dad even please you are the only ones bouncing around in his brain.

Just then his dad walks in and pats König on the back, making him jump. König watches as his dad walks past him to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your soft lips. A heat of jealousy rushes over him as he drops his gaze and drinks more water.

“Is dinner almost ready?” Felix asks as his hand remains on your ass.

“It is, I was just getting König a drink.”

“Alright, let’s get eating, I’m tired.” Felix complained as he made his way to the table. König thankful his face is hidden or hid dad would have seen his disgust.

“I’ll help set the table,” König walked to the cabinet you had opened and reached over you to grab three plates.

“Oh, thank you.” He was close and all you could think about was his cologne mixed with his natural musk, finding it enticing.

You set the table with König’s help and sat down to eat. It was painfully awkward. You could tell the strained relationship between father and son was hopeless. Felix has no interest in talking to his son and his son has no interest in forgiving his dad. König’s eyes kept following you the whole time. Watching how your lips wrapped around your fork as you took a bit, the way your breasts rest on the table due to their size. He can’t get enough of you.

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Hours pass and König is in the room you set up for him and looking around. He pulls his mask off and begins to undress. He can’t stop thinking of you.  As he drops his pants, his erection is more obvious. He runs his palm over it through the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself as he walks to the bed and gets under the covers. Looking up at the ceiling he begins to think of you as he slowly began to stroke his cock. Thinking of the way your breasts jiggle with the slightest of movement. He closes his eye and begins to pump his fist over his cock, imagining you riding him and how your breasts would look bouncing. Thinking you and Felix are asleep, he lets out soft moans.

You walk upstairs from getting a late night snack and you can hear soft little moans coming from down the hall, you know its König. Looking ahead at your bedroom door, then over to König’s, you decide to make your way to his room.

Standing outside the door you can clearly hear his hand moving over his cock, soft wet sounds mixed with the blankets rustling. You can hear him moan out your name every few seconds. Taking a deep breath, you open the door.

König stops and his eyes go wide as he sees you. A mix of surprise and embarrassment written on his face as he gulps. His eyes travel down your body and notice the silky light pink night gown you’re wearing. The dress clings perfectly to your body, you look like a goddess.

“Y/N…” König says your name with lust and panic in his tone.

“König…” You close the door behind you. Your eyes travel to the part of the blanket that was poking up from his erection.

König froze in place as you slowly started to walk to him. You sit on the bed beside him as you reach out and grasp his erection over the blanket. König lets out a shaky breath feeling your small hand grasp his fat cock.

“Oh Scheiße.” He moaned softly as you squeezed the head of his cock.

“Would you like some help?” You slowly stroke down his cock and watch as his jaw drops.

König begins to nod his head quickly, “Please,” his eyes look into yours almost begging you.

You pull the blanket back to see his boxer briefs pulled down his thighs and his cock out, the foreskin hugging his bright pink tip that’s leaking pre cum. His cock is simply massive. You grab his cock, skin on skin now, your fingers don’t even meet when wrapped around him. König’s breathing quickly at this point watching with anticipation.

You begin to stroke his cock faster pulling quiet moans from König’s lips. You look up at his maskless face and study it, watching the way his face contorts with pleasure; he looks exactly like his dad, but younger.

Without thinking König reached a hand out and cupped one of your breasts over the nightgown. He squeezed gently as he moved his eyes from your hand wrapped around him to his hand on you. Your breast so big and full they spill over his large hands. He has never been blessed to touch such beautiful breasts before. His hand pulls down your night gown to expose your bare breast to him.

Your nipples hard as he reaches out and tugs on one. “Mein Gott, you are so perfect.” He whispers almost as if he didn’t mean to say the words out loud.

He sits up more to lean forward, his lips finding yours and bringing you into a passionate kiss, his tongue finding yours as you softly begin to suck on his. He lets out a soft groaning sound at the thought of you sucking his cock instead. His hand still playing with your nipple as the other holds your waist tightly. Precum leaking on to your hand as he slowly breaks the kiss.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you since the minute I laid my eyes on you.” He growls as he begins to kiss down your neck, biting lightly to not leave marks behind.

He hears you let out the softest little moan and it sends his brain into over drive as he pushes you back on the bed. His mouth hungrily kissed down your neck to your breast as he pulls his underwear all the way off. His mouth latched to your nipple and sucking at it desperately as you moan out running your fingers through his hair. König had been thinking about what this moment with you might be like, and now here he was; ready to show you another reason why he’s better than his dad.

You watch as König slaps his heavy cock onto your wet pussy, it’s been ages since you’ve been fucked- like really fucked. Your legs twitch as his cock rubs over your sensitive clit and it makes him smirk.

“Fuck me already,” you demand pathetically and König chuckles in response.

“Horny little house wife, aren’t you?” He teases as he slips his cock into your tight wet cunt. Instantly your velvety walls began to flutter around his size desperately trying to accommodate him.  You let out a quiet moan as your eyes close, face twisting in pleasure. His cock filling you up to the point of pain, but fuck it felt good. His hands grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs. His cock pressing in until he hits your mushy cervix, your pussy not even able to fit all of him.  

“You like that, huh?” König asks feeling a bit arrogant.

His pins your legs back and begins to just pound into your creamy cunt, his mouth finding your breast as he begins to kiss and bite all over them, no longer worrying about leaving marks on you. He wanted you for his own self. His balls slapping hard against your ass as they tighten from excitement.

Not only did your gummy cunt feel like heaven, the whole taboo situation of you being his step mom was adding to the experience. The thought of filling you with his cum and possibly getting you pregnant making his mind go crazy with excitement.

“Please fuck me!” Your fingers drag across König’s broad back and scratch deeply, leaving bright red marks across his pale skin. Yours legs tremble as they squeeze his side.

“König- I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, cum for me like the needy little step mom you are.” His hand moves to your pussy as his thumb begins to rub to your clit. You melt into nothing as you begin to moan loudly, your body tensing as you feel the rush of euphoria takes over your body.

“Shhh, you’re going to wake the old man up. You really want your husband to see you getting fucked by his son?” He smirks as you cum on his cock. He can feel how wet you get as you squeeze his cock. In this moment Felix isn’t even a thought, all you can think about is König’s cock fucking you.

König grabs a pillow and puts it down beside you before quickly pulling out. He easily manhandles you and flips you over, using the pillow to help lift your ass up. He got behind you, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding his cock that is covered in your creamy thick white cum. Pushing his leaky cock into you slowly he lets out a low sigh. His hands wrap around your ass and squeeze, pulling your cheeks apart as his thumb rubs over your tight asshole.  He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep going, his muscles becoming tense as his balls begin to tingle and tighten. Your cunt keeping a tight grip on his cock.

Königs head dropped back and his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he lets out tiny whimpers of pleasure. Without warning, König cums deep inside of your pussy, feeling his cock throbbing inside you.

He pulled out with heavy breath before laying beside you on the bed. You both looked at each other smiling.

.

.

The next morning König goes down stairs to see you wearing black leggings and a simple t-shirt. You were standing in front of the stove making breakfast for everyone. His eyes meet yours and you both smirk at each other.

He sits next to his father at the table exuding a cocky aura. He just fucked his dad’s wife after all. König keeps his eyes on your breast as you walk back and forth, remembering how they looked bouncing as he pounded into you last night.

You don’t know it, but König is already planning a life with you, away from his father. He feels no guilt or remorse, if anything this is just karma for Felix. You abandon his mom; he steals your woman. Fair is fair.

Part2

[classypauli]

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹’𝑺 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

Part 2

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Summary: After so long Tara finally meets you again... only this time a little drunk.

Word count: 3k

It has now been a couple of weeks since visiting the hospital. People would think that Tara has already forgotten about what happened but the opposite is true. In those weeks there wasn´t a day she would not think about you. Her mind was repeating what happened and everytime a smile grew on her face. Mindy and Chad started to make fun of her, saying she looked like a kid first time having a crush. She doesn´t care.

Tara wanted to see you, so badly. She started thinking about how to get to see you again, like she would play another attack and go to the hospital, which to be honest was too cruel, or she would just go there and act like she had some examination and suddenly she saw you start to talk with you, then you would ask her to go on a date with her, you would start dating and-

God, she needs to stop. Young Carpenter sighed and put her head on the table. The voice of her professor was muted in her ears, today she felt like sleeping, just laying in her bed all day doing nothing. It was friday and she promised to go to some party. Mindy has been talking about it forever.

„Mindy I´m not in a mood right now.“ The girl turned her forehead against the table.

„I didn´t even say anything!“ Mindy scanned the shorter girl, looking for any signs of sickness. „You don´t feel good?“ she asked now with a normal tone. Tara shook her head.

„Well then we should probably call some doctor, who knows, maybe they will help you.“ Tara punched the girl beside her, making an angry noise from being teased on.

„Who does he think he is?!“ Tara was angry. They were currently at the party Mindy talked about. Everything was fine at first, everyone was minding their business, and they danced and drank, talked and joked around. It was so much fun.

But that fun soon disturbed that idiot Frankie. He was being himself of course and was trying to get with every girl there, including Tara. But the girl wasn´t in the mood for his stupid games. At first, she ignored him but as soon as he was touchy and started grabbing her to go upstairs, she became furious.

She yelled at him so hard the boy even flinched, wasn´t expecting this behavior from a sweet girl like Tara. Yeah, like she was some easy prey. He then became angry and embarrassed but knowing a lot of people were around him he couldn´t do anything.

„He is a prick Tara forget about him.“ Mindy was standing beside her watching as her friend was getting more alcohol into her cup. Tara wasn´t really drunk, yet at least. And after this incident, she just wanted to get alcohol into her system to forget about his ugly ass face.

„Like...“ the short girl let out and furious sigh out of her lips. „he is such a fucking idiot I´m surprised no girl has punched him yet.“ Tara shook her head at the bitter taste as the alcohol touched her tongue. Maybe she will be first.

„Oh! And on top of that-“

„Tara.“ Mindy said from her side but she only continued, she didn´t even notice the hand of her on her right shoulder.

„-he even-„

„Tara.“ Mindy said a little louder through the loud music that was playing in the house.

„Fuck Mindy what!“ Tara looked at her friend, raising her voice a little. She wasn´t angry at her, of course not and Mindy also knew that, but Tara had a short temper.

„Apollo at 9 o´clock.“

Tara turned pale. Her eyes widen and her body becomes stiff. She felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. What did she say? No, that can´t be. The only person they were calling Apollo was...

„Tara fucking turn around.“ Mindy said between her clenched teeth as she kept looking at the way she told her to look at.

Tara took a big breath trying to calm her beating heart and shot her eyes to the left. There was a group of friends chatting and laughing, they had beers and cups in their hands as they were standing by the side of the room so as not to disturb anybody.

She scanned the group and suddenly saw the familiar figure she had been so desperate to find these past weeks. You were standing there in your civil clothes and cup in your hand. Your bright smile could be seen from every spot of the room, smiling at your friends as you were talking about something, sipping on your drink.

„Tell me I´m not crazy.“ Tara´s eyes kept looking at you as if she was afraid you would disappear again. Her chest kept rising and falling at a fast speed.

„No Tara, you´re definitely not.“ Mindy may only see you from a photo but this was definitely you. You looked far better in a person than in a photo, she must tell.

The young Carpenter turned to Mindy with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. „Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?!“ she quickly looked at her clothes if they looked fine. „Do I look good? I don´t have anything between my teeth?“ she smiled widely showing her teeth Mindy to check.

„Stop Tara! Calm down.“ Mindy took her shoulders to make her look at her. „Okay okay stop right now. No, you don´t have anything between your teeth. You´re fine.“

Deep and slow breaths were the next thing she needed to do or she would have another attack and that would be pretty embarrassing. It was just you. Yeah, just the cute doctor who took care of her at the hospital. Yes, only you, as if you were someone special-

Of course, you were special! To her! She wanted to impress you so badly. The girl was always thinking about the ways she would meet you again, what would she say to you, what would she be wearing, and how she would impress you... She looked like a garbage at the moment.

Today Tara didn´t give a fuck about what would her clothes be or how she would style her hair. She just wanted to have a little fun from studying and enjoy the night with her friends.

She looked at your way one more time and your eyes met. You squint your eyes at the girl as if you were trying to remember something. She quickly turned her head to Mindy, a scared look swimming in her eyes.

„Mindy. She saw me.“

„And now she´s making her way here.“

„No, that can´t be real.“

„Oh yes, it is.“

„No no no no.“ Tara shook her head to left and right trying to put herself together. She wasn´t ready to face you. This is not how she imagined your second meeting.

„Hi.“ Mindy looked at you and greeted you back. She took Tara again by her shoulders and turned her to you.

„Hi.“ The short girl said as she was now looking at your pretty eyes. You were smiling at her like you were the first time you saw each other.

„I´m sorry I didn´t wanna disturb but... I think I know you.“ You now lowered your eyebrows a bit and kept scanning Tara´s face.

What? Do you know her? Oh my God, you remember! The girl´s heart started beating in her chest as she now realized that. You wouldn´t remember if she didn´t catch your attention, right? Right?!

„Uhm... I-“

„Oh! I know! You were in a hospital! I knew you were familiar.“ You smiled widely at her, you looked happy that you could remember after all a lot of people came through your hands every day.

Tara breathed out as she looked down. „Yeah,“ she laughed „you got me.“

„Oh, you okay now? You had any complications after?“ You kept asking her as you scanned her face and body, not in a disgusting way. But let´s be honest, Tara wouldn´t mind that either.

The shorter girl smiled softly, playing with her hands as she was softly swaying her body to the sides like a small child. „No no, everything has been fine since then.“ She smiled shyly at you. „Thanks again.“. You just shook your head like she had nothing to thank for. You were just too sweet.

Mindy offered you and your group to be with them and after the introduction, some went to drink more in the kitchen or went to the dance floor. The three of you along with some of your friends were sitting on a couch in a living room with drinks in your hands, talking and laughing at others' dancing skills.

You were so friendly and your friends too, Tara was looking at you the whole time, listening carefully every time you started speaking so none of the words could slip her. The Carpenter didn´t even notice how much alcohol she drank, guess it was because of the stress from your presence but as soon as she stood up, she could feel everything.

Oh no. Her mind was now spinning, „I´m going to the toilet.“ Mindy offered to go with her as she saw her friend's face. She was drunk.

„Oh my God, Mindy.“ These were the first words that left her mouth as she saw herself in a mirror. Her eyes were down and her face was all sweaty from the hot room and alcohol. Tara touched her cheek at the state and turned around to her friend. „I can´t go back looking like this.“ Her mind was spinning and she barely could control her legs. „I´m so fucked up.“

Mindy was behind her smirking, leaning against the bathroom door, clearly dunk as well. „Tomorrow morning will be fun.“ She laughed to herself, eyes closed from the sharp light of the bathroom.

„Hey! Are you even listening to me?“ Tara went to her but stumbled a little. Mindy laughed at her clumsy friend. She wasn´t as drunk as Tara, she could still walk normally. The only thing she was more giggling than usual.

„Come on, it´s fine. Or do you wanna leave Y/N?“ Mindy asked Tara. „Did you forget about how you were these couple of weeks?“.

Right. She can´t do that. She needs to get your number, at least that. They went to the group again but with each step they took the alcohol in their system could be felt more and more. Tara was now so drunk that she laughed at everything she saw. The girl sat beside you again but this time a little more closer than she was before, you turned to her and smiled at her. She giggled at you as she tilted her head a little.

You could see her cheeks were red and her eyes had fallen a little. Every time she was speaking her voice was really loud and her hands were everywhere around the place, even almost smacked you but you were quick to dodge it. Yep, she was drunk.

Tara´s mobile kept vibrating a couple of times but she only ignored that. It was Sam, she was worried about her because they agreed that Tara would inform her every now and then that everything was fine. The first time you caught the notification you wanted to warn Tara about it but then you saw it.

On her wallpaper was your photo from the hospital, the one with all of your colleagues. The photo was zoomed on your smiling figure, it was so cute you wanted to laugh but you couldn´t. You didn´t want to embarrass her so you played like you didn´t see that.

„So...“ Tara hiccuped as she leaned her hand on the back of the couch behind your head. You raised your eyebrows at her as you were trying to hide the smile from how drunk and cute at the same time she was. „How old are you?“ she kept looking into your eyes as if she was trying to seduce you but was cut by a hiccup again.

Laughing at her now you answered her question. „How old do I look?“

„I don´t know, you look really young to be a doctor. You are a doctor? Or you are a student? How old are you?“ Tara squints her eyes at you. You let out a laugh as you threw your head back at her words, closing your eyes in the process.

Tara was drunk smiling at you, showing her dimples. She didn´t know why you were laughing but it was because of her so she didn´t mind. In her head it meant victory. You wiped your unexisting tears and shook your head. „You are so drunk.“

„No, I´m not! Look I can drink more!“ she went to grab a cup that was on the table in front of the couch but you were quick to take it from her hand.

„Absolutely not, you had too much already.“ Tara wanted to argue with you about it but her thoughts were cut by your touch.

„You have really pretty hands. They are much bigger than mine, look!“ she compared your hands and yes, hers were really small.

„And your fingers are so long... I wonder how it would feel inside of-“

Mindy covered her friend's mouth from beside her. She kept listening to your conversation the whole time, making sure Tara wouldn´t say or do something she would be embarrassed about the next day. Something like this.

„Okay, I think we should head home.“ Mindy wanted to pull Tara on her legs but she didn´t want to stand up and leave you. She kept pouting as she sat a little more closer to you almost sitting at your tights.

„Come on, I will go with you.“ You stood up and gently took her hands to help her on her legs. She smiled like a kid and immediately did what you wanted her to do.

 You and Mindy were taking Tara to her home. Sam was now calling Mindy asking about her sister. She had the right to be mad, she let her go to a party under the condition of her texting her if she was alright.

As you were close to the apartment door Mindy left you two so you could be alone. Tara won´t remember it but Mindy for sure will and she will make sure her friend will pay back for this.

„We are already here.“ Tara whined and turned around to look at you as you now stood in front of her door. „I don´t wanna leave you, I wanna be with you.“ The girl hugged your neck as she put her head on your chest to stare into your eyes.

You laughed at her. „Don´t worry, I´m sure we will see each other again.“

„Do you wanna come inside?“ she smirked and dragged her finger around your shoulder, tilting her head to the side softly. The young Carpenter had clearly enough for today.

„You know I can´t Tara.“ You breathe out with a kind smile on your lips.

„I love it when you call my name, it sounds so different, and also your smile and your eyes and-“

The door from her home suddenly opened and there stood Sam. The three of you kept looking at each other shocked written on your faces, waiting till someone made the first move.

„Uhm... hey I´m Y/N, I don´t know if you remember me.“ You smiled kindly at Tara´s sister. She kept studying you a little, then it hit her. Yeah, you were the one from the hospital. You helped Tara and that was all she needed to know.

„Yeah, I remember.“ She then looked at her sister, slowly shaking her head. Tara´s arms were still around you, not caring that her sister could see everything. „Come on Tara.“

The short girl let out a whine not wanting to let you go. She tightened her grip on you and was now looking at you to save her from her angry sister. „You need to let go of me.“ Your voice was so soft, it was only convincing her to stay but your words said otherwise and she needed to listen to you.

Slowly pulling away from and with a point on her lips, eyes big as if you were saying that you will never see her again. You didn´t even leave and she missed you already. The girl just wanted to stay with you.

„Will I see you again?“ Tara asked as she was almost at her apartment looking for your answer. You nodded your head at her, shooting her one of your smiles with a wink.

„Okay... Goodnight.“ She said with a low voice, putting her head down and leaving you in a hallway. Sam turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

„Thanks for bringing her here.“

„It´s fine, she´s amazing.“ You looked from the way she disappeared to Sam. „I guess I will head home also. Goodnight.“ You waved at her and started to walk away.

The next morning couldn´t be worse. Tara woke up with a terrible headache and the urge to throw up, Sam was giving her silent treatment, Mindy kept teasing her about yesterday and she had no way of contacting you. Like she would do that, the girl was so embarrassed that she just wanted to bury herself deep into the ground.

Afternoon Mindy and Chad came, and they kept making fun of Tara and her flirting skills. Suddenly her phone rang signaling a new message.

Y/N:) :Heyy, hope you feel better

What? How did you get her number? It was really you?

„Mindy? How did you get Y/N´s contact into my phone?“ Her friend looked at her with a confused face. „Did you give her my number?“ Mindy shook her head, still looking muddled.

„Maybe she did it herself.“ She shrugged her shoulders. „At least you have her number finally!“

Yeah, at least something but when did you make it? Oh yeah, she probably left her phone on the couch when she went to the bathroom. But if you got your phone number into her phone that must mean...

„Oh God... please no.“ She put her head into her hands, covering her red face from embarrassment.

You saw that fucking wallpaper.

Taglist: @jensortega813 @isawxxp 🤍