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thestarsarebrightertonight · 3 days

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imgonnagetyouback // mattheo riddle x fem hufflepuff reader

playlist: imgonnagetyouback - taylor swift / get him back! - olivia rodrigo

summary : mattheo riddle does not prank anyone , well asides from you and youve reached your breaking point.

y/n used , hufflepuff reader , swearing , jealousy, fighting , enemies to lovers

masterlist tppd series masterlist

you screamed in horror as cold water splashed down on you , soaking your whole uniform , hair and bag.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" you screeched in pure horror , you looked around the hall in search of a certain smirking face you had come to know all too well.

every student in the hall stared silently , many laughing and some first years looking scared at your angry demeanor. however the one who laughed the most was mattheo riddle , of course.

the boy who has tormented you since first year , endless pranks , endless teasing and zero remorse - mattheo riddle. you dont know what you did to deserve it , but you could easily say it had made you hate the boy more than anyone on the planet. it started with mean nicknames , getting the whole year to call you snotty in first year just because you blew your nose into a tissue in class once. it makes no sense right? completely unprovoked!

"oh dont you just look lovely, baby" mattheo smirked as he walked towards you , holding the bucket he had used to dump water all over you with a simple levitation charm.

"im going you KILL YOU MATTHEO RIDDLE!" you screamed , standing right in front of him and grabbing his collar.

"wow calm down sunshine , its just a bit of water," his smug expression never left his face as he started down at you , his eyes flicking down to your chest where your bra was clearly visible due to your white - soaked - shirt.

you gasped in horror , removing your arms to button up your robe and hide it , " you fucking pervert!"

he held his hands up in defense, "they looked at me first"

"merlin i really really hate you mattheo riddle , rot in hell!" you screamed in his pretty face , running away and pushing past people to get to the hufflepuff common room. mattheos eyes followed you , grinning before walking away when you finally left his sight.

----

"ive got to get him back! hes gotten away with bullying me for too long!" you ranted to your best friend cedric who sat on your bed, listening to the rant he had to endure nearly every day.

"he isnt bullying you y/n , hes teasing you because he likes you," cedric said for the 1000th time since you came back to hogwarts from summer break.

"cedric, hes made my life hell! i hate him and his stuid face GOD!" you groaned.

cedric just stared up at you , bored , "he makes fun of you fir being a hufflepuff right? -you nodded- then charm all his robes to hufflepuff ones then. if hes such a egotistical slytherin that you say he is , he'll hate that"

you grinned excitedly , "yes! his ego is bigger than the whole castle , itd ruin him!"

cedric smiled at your happiness as you hugged him , "thanks ced , love you!"

he laughed as you grabbed your wand and ran out of your dorm , leaving cedric to sigh and get up , following you.

---

the next day your leg bounced in excitement , you had suceeded in making his robes hufflepuff and now it was time to see him angrily burst into the great hall.

"y/n? earth to y/nnn," cedric sang , waving a hand infront of your face , finally catching your attention , "youre gonna make it obvious it was you."

"oh i want him to know it was me , it is so on!" you said quickly , turning back to the enterance of the great hall as cedric sighed in defeat , continuing his talk with the hufflepuff captian.

then a grinning mattheo , wearing a hufflepuff robe and tie walked into the room , looking around until catching your eye and smirking.

you gasped in horror , why is he smiling?!!

you continued to stare at him as a ravenclaw boy walked over.

"like the robes mattheo," the boy said as mattheo smirked.

"thanks my girlfriend got me them , y/n," mattheo said back happily as your face twisted in horror , immediately rising from the hufflepuff table and rushing over.

you stood in front of the smirking slytherin and shook your head at the ravenclaw, "hes NOT my boyfriend dont worry!"

mattheo looked down at you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind , resting his head on top of yours , "oh i am"

you felt heat rush to your cheeks as the ravenclaw boy just nodded in confusion before walking away silently.

horrified you turned around to face mattheo as his arms remained around you , "what the fuck are you doing!!"

"what? you gave me some hufflepuff robes it was clearly a decleration of your little claim on me , love" he smirked at you , playing with your hair with one hand.

"i would rather die! take the robes off!" you shouted as you tried to wrestle the robe off of him , he had no reaction and just smiled at you.

"stripping me down infront of everyone? i didnt see you as the type but im all in, " he said with a wink.

you immediately stopped what you was doing as his hand grabbed yours , pausing your attempt to take off the hufflepuff tie , "stop telling everyone im your girlfriend riddle , its weird!"

"manifestation am i right?" he laughed , bringing your connected hands down as you scoffed.

"youre so annoying!" you shouted in anger , turning around to go sit back down at the hufflepuff table.

"merlin im gonna kill him!" you vented to your friends once you sat down , but they all looked besides you , "what?"

"meeting friends so early , wow we really are going fast!" mattheo grinned next to you.

"go away riddle!" you seethed.

"y/n you dragged him here.." susan said pointing down to your hand still holding mattheos , you gasped in terror and let go quickly.

"go! shoo!" you pushed him away like a wild animal.

"i cant , im a hufflepuff now so im sitting here," mattheo smiled before grabbing a plate and scooping food onto it , resting his arm around your waist.

you stared at him in disbelief , "UGH!".

he simply grinned at you pulling you in closer to him , how you remained for the rest of breakfast.

----

"so i assume you know a certain wild animal called , mattheo riddle , right?" you whispered to the twins who nodded in unision , "well you must know how hes tormented me these past years. i need to get him back."

the twins looked at eachother with smirks , signalling for you to step closer as to not be heard by anyone in the corridor you had rushed them into , "we think the best way for you to get him back is to make him jealous"

"jealous?" you asked in confusion, backing away , "cmon guys youre the kings of pranks please just give me something to make him smell really bad or something-"

"no y/n. first of all thank you but trust us , you want to know the first fight mattheo riddle got into?" george asked as you nodded in intruige.

"it was with a guy that was going to ask you out in third year," fred finished as george cringed recalling the brutal beating.

"what?!" you gasped , "a guy was going to ask me out and that litlle DEVIL ruined it?!".

they both looked at eachother and sighed , "that isnt the point dear y/n. just...just do as we say. you need to get a fake boyfriend - like cedric , and make sure everyone knows. believe us , you will see mattheo riddle just as angry as you are when he pranks you."

you sigh in defeat , "okay. i just need to convince cedric."

they both nodded and stepped back from the secret huddle the three of you had formed , "good giving revenge advice to you little miss hufflepuff, good luck."

you nodded slowly as the three of you walked in opposite directions.

----

"cedric please!! the twins said its the only thing that will work!" you whined as you grabbed cedrics arm , stopping his pacing around your dorm room.

"and i agree with them but why did it have to be me!-"

"ced , youre my best friend , if i had to fake date any guy itd be you." you reassured him as he finally met your eyes.

there was a long pause before cedric sighed in defeat , "fine , but dont you dare kiss me!-"

"cedric i know your first kiss is reserved for miss cho chang , dont worry!" you laughed as he cracked a small smile.

----

over the next few days you made the effort to hold cedrics hand more ,laugh at his jokes more and tell everyone possible how much of a lovely boyfriend he is. the word had travelled pretty fast and the second it reached mattheo riddle his whole damenor changed.

you were currently sitting at the hufflepuff table with your head on cedrics shoudler , facing the slytherin table and a very angry mattheo riddle who tightened his pale fist.

you laughed at susans joke , before hearing an abrupt slam on the slytherin table , no one else seemed to notice or care but you watched in fear as mattheo riddle jumped from the table and stared straight at cedric , beginning to come over.

in a panic you grabbed cedrics face whispering in desperation, "kiss me cedric!"

"what no!" he whisper yelled in horror , finally catching a glimpse at the fuming riddle heading his way as he gulped at the sight, "why!?"

"the weasley twins told me when he reaches a breaking point we have to , please! i have to get him back after all these years!"

cedric sighed in frustration , "you owe me!"

you nodded as you both moved closer to eachother , lips about to touch until -

cedric got roughly dragged from his seat on the bench , mattheo holding his robes and punching him.

you gasped in suprise not having truly thought of the consequence a raged mattheo would have on cedrics safety , jumping up from the table you watched cedric land a punch on mattheo face.

you cringed at the sight as you tugged on mattheos arm , finally pulling him away from cedric.

"get off of him mattheo!" you shouted.

"tell him to get off you first! ill fuck you up golden boy diggory-!" mattheo shouted at him as cedric attempted to jump back onto him , resulting in you stomping out of the hall , dragging mattheo along with you.

----

finally getting to your dorm you opened the door and shoved mattheo in , slamming the door behind you.

he staggered slightly before you pushed him down on the bed , pacing around the room as he sat and watched.

"what the fuck were you doing!" you exclaimed.

"i was teaching that dickhead a lesson!-" he argued back , being cut off by you pointing a finger in his face.

"DONT call ced a dickhead!" you screamed.

"ced?! CED?! fucking hell he even has a nickname, " he scoffed sourly.

"hes had a nickname for years , hes my bestfriend!".

"yeah cause bestfriends kiss eachother and tell everyone theyre dating right?!" he shouted back.

you paused at this suddenly realising why he had fought cedric in the first place , because of your stupid plan you only now realised was never going to end well.

turning to look mattheo in the face you silently walked towards him , stopping infront of him as he looked up at you. you stared down at him, noticing the bleeding cut on his cheek and running to grab your first aid things in your drawer.

you stood infront of him again, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at you allowing you a view of the cut as you grabbed a band-aid from the small box. he watched you with softened eyes as you wiped the cut softly and delicatly placed the band-aid.

"im sorry," you whispered letting go off his chin as his hands went up to your hips , pulling you in between his knees, "i had this stupid plan of getting back at you - the weasley twins told me youd get really angry if i pretended to date cedric. i guess i only just realised why you got so angry."

"why did i get so angry?" he asked softly , wanting to hear you say it.

"you love me." you whispered as he bit back his smile.

"since first year.... i guess im just not good at showing it." he sighed.

"dont mattheo , its my fault too , i was way too oblivious to your feeling and my own feelings . if i realised earlier then this wouldnt have happened-"

"wait. you....have feelings for me?" he asked with hope and desperation.

you paused before nodding , "if i hadnt liked you the whole time i wouldnt have continued to interact with you. i definetly wouldnt have let you hold my hand or my waist. i wouldnt have put in so much effort to get you back... i just didnt realise that througout this whole thing , you were the only person i tolerated teasing me for years."

he chuckled , "i wouldnt say tolerated , i ended up with a few bruisies."

you both laughed at this as he stood up , now towering over you, "im sorry for fighting cedric....and every guy who asked you out in the past."

"i always found it weird they ended up in the hospital wing and ghosting me the day after," you laughed.

he shrugged ,"i couldnt just watch you be with someone else, the thought of it literally tears me apart."

"yeah well youre not alone , remember when that ravenclaw girls hair turned neon yellow after you went on a date with her?" he nodded slowly , "yeah that was me."

he howled with laughter at your confession , remembering the scream of the girl when her hair transformed the day after his date with her.

"youre not alone either , i only went out with her to make you jealous," he confessed too.

"i knew ittt" you sang as he scoffed.

"no you didnt!"

"youre right i didnt," you shrugged.

once his laughter stopped he rested his hand on your cheek , "lets make a deal , no more pranks and no more fights."

you nodded.

"when youre angry with me just...kiss me" he said looking from your eyes to your lips as they pulled into a smile and crashed into his.

first year you is gagging in disgust.

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arieslost · 18 hours

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ok i don’t know if it’s just me who gets really giggly when it’s late at night but imagine laying in bed with lando and you’re just rambling about smth so stupid that it ends with you two just giggling at nothing. like getting full on stomach cramps from laughing but there wasn’t even anything funny to begin with

anon u and i are the SAME! once its past midnight i always end up becoming a victim of the late night sillies 💔

1:30 am | ln4

you knew you were up too late when you nearly tripped over the loose edge of the blanket you and lando had been sharing on your way back to the couch, and when he had caught you before you could hit your head or anything, you started laughing.

“oh, no,” he’d groaned dramatically. “got the late night giggles already, huh?”

“uh-uh,” you shook your head, even though him saying the words “late night giggles” was enough to make laughter start bubbling up in your throat again.

something always shifted in you when the clock struck a certain hour at night, and lando had only been witness to it a handful of times before you moved in together.

now, you’d managed to get through the rest of the movie the two of you were watching without laughing, even if it meant biting your lip hard and refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend. it was bad enough feeling his eyes on you every time he wanted to see your reaction to something that happened on the tv. making eye contact would just take you out entirely for no reason whatsoever.

which is why you think you’ve successfully avoided making a fool of yourself when you’re both finally laying in bed with the lights out at the fine hour of 1:30 in the morning.

“you’re so far away,” lando grumbles, dragging your body into his so his one arm is around your shoulders and your face is nestled in his neck.

“better?” you ask, smiling when he shivers as your lips brush his skin.

“mhmm.” he’s quiet for a moment, running his fingers up and down your arm. “you’re gonna come to miami, right?”

“yeah, if you want me to.”

“what kind of question is that, babe?” he cranes his neck in a way that tells you he’s fixing you with a judgy look even though you can’t see each other.

you shrug, feeling the giggles building up again for no reason whatsoever. “i dunno.”

“obviously i want you there, why wouldn’t i?”

“i dunno,” you repeat. “it’s miami. maybe you just wanna party with all your homies.” and just like that, you’re laughing again.

“oh dear god, here we go,” he sighs, pressing his lips together to repress his own laughter as your body shakes against his. “my homies? when have i ever referred to any of my mates as my ‘homie’?”

he sounds so incredulous that you laugh even harder. “oh, you’re so british! i can’t call them your mates, lan. it sounds too weird.”

“so homies is the word you went with? why can’t you be normal and just say my friends?”

“why can’t you be normal and say your friends?” you shoot back, and that does lando in.

“it’s not funny,” he tries to admonish, and it’s entirely true, but it’s a moot point when you can barely understand him through his laughter.

“stop laughing then!”

“you stop!”

naturally, that makes you both laugh harder still, to the point where you have to roll away from him, clutching your stomach from how badly all the laughing is making it hurt.

“i can’t breathe,” lando gasps from behind you.

“stop laughing,” you repeat. “you’re killing me.”

“i think i’m dying,” he continues like he didn’t hear you, and he honestly might not have because your face is half shoved into your pillow in your attempts to stifle yourself.

a few more minutes go by of the two of you absolutely losing your minds before you’re finally able to catch your breath.

“ow,” you whine, holding your stomach. “i think i just grew a six pack.”

“i think mine just became ten times more defined,” lando says, voice raspy from all the exertion on his vocal chords.

“ooh, lemme feel.”

“absolutely not, because you’re going to tickle me,” he grabs your wrist out of thin air. “i know your tricks, baby. i’ve laughed more than enough tonight thanks to you.”

“not my fault you’re weird and british.”

“i love you,” he says sweetly, pulling you back towards him and kissing your forehead. “now’s where you say, ‘i love you too.’”

“i love you too,” you reply dutifully, blindly reaching for his face so you can kiss him properly. “even though you’re weird and british.”

he kisses you again. “i thought it was especially because i’m weird and british.”

you snuggle into his side, now thoroughly exhausted. “please don’t make me laugh more, lan.”

you both know he’s right, of course, but you usually need to have the last word, so he lets you get away with it. he does love you, after all, even though you had him in stitches over nothing at 1:30 in the morning.

word count: 790

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note: this was sooo self indulgent, like i was laughing as i wrote this because the term “homies” is so silly to me for some reason. also helped me test my dialogue skills!! n e wayz…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

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slvttyplum · 2 days

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suguru hated how infatuated you were with satoru, even though he knew you meant no harm whenever you spoke about him, it still made him upset. you were supposed to be paying attention to him not satoru and the more you spoke about hm, the more suguru went out of his way to prove to you that he was better than him in all aspects.

including sex.

there was no better way to prove that you were better than someone than to prove how good you were at sex, and that's exactly what suguru did. was this petty? yes, but he wasn't going to have you drooling out the mouth about satoru so he did the only thing he could think of.

“do you want to fuck satoru?” bouncing his leg while you were on his lap, this wasn't a joke or a trick, he wanted a genuine answer. horror coating your face as you look at him, no smirk or sadness on his expression, just his regular resting face, his arm wrapped around your waist, his thumb rubbing over your hip.

“no.” just a one word answer hoping he won't dig deeper into it, and he didn't, instead he did what he had to do to prove to you that he was better than satoru, the no showed him everything he needed to see. taking the rubber band that he had resting on his wrist and tying his hair back and grabbing you by the neck, giving you a kiss.

his hand sliding to the back of your neck, resting as you fully emerge into the kiss, his sweet taste on yours. once you closed your eyes to kiss him, the next time you opened them you were on the bed and holding up your legs for suguru so that he could fuck you.

“i want you to know… that you'll always be mine okay?” and with that he lined himself up and pushed into you, letting out a groan of pleasure, your walls wrapped around him and squeezing him.

suguru proving to you that he was the overall better choice than satoru went on for two weeks straight, him beating your pussy in until he was physically tumbling over from how weak your pussy got him. you didn't know why he was fucking you the way he was, but you weren't complaining, it was like getting a reward every time you came home to suguru bending you over the counter and sliding down your panties just to eat your pussy from the back.

he knew he shouldn't have been jealous but the line of you going out to actually fuck satoru was too thin, so he had to make you fucked out for you not to do that and he succeeded. by the end of every night, the sheets were drenched with three different fluids, and you were asleep beside him as he cleaned you up, mumbling to yourself in your sleep his name.

maybe this wasn't about satoru but more about him wanting to fuck you to sleep every night, either way he loved to please you so that's what he was going to do.

“no one else can fuck you the way i fuck you… say it.” while pushing your thighs into your chest and kissing you, tears in the corner of your eyes as he pushes deep inside of you, the tip of his dick pressing on your sweet spot making your heart beat faster and pleasure jolt throughout your body. that's all suguru wanted, he wanted to hear you say those words.

to hear you say that his dick was better than anyone else's and that he's the only one who could make you cum, and all of that was true, so he wanted to hear you blabber that while he pushed his dick inside of you with no mercy.

“mm, no one else can fuck me like you suguru.” the way you said his name sent tingles throughout his spine, he didn't want to slide out of you. he wanted to stay buried deep inside of you until your pussy remembered his shape, and only he could slide into you with ease.

“there we go. that's my good girl.”

after two full weeks of fucking you nonstop with no breaks, you never brought up satoru again, suguru knew all he needed to do was fuck him out of your mind.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk suguru #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto #suguru geto #getou suguru

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intromortal · 3 days

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distraction part 2 | bff!p.js x f!reader x bff!p.sh

wc: 4.2k

part 1

cw: smut, threesome, name calling (slut, whore), praise, slight degradation, no protection, exhibitionism and voyeurism (?), choking, bondage, two dicks in one hole yessir, squirting, cum eating, snowballing, slight mxm

The air in the room is laden with lust as Sunghoon answers the call, acting like the situation he’s in is completely normal. Like one of his best friends isn’t full of his other best friend’s cock right in front of him.

He only gives you a casual shrug of his shoulders when you glare at him, the warm dim lighting of the room sculpting his face alluringly but doing nothing to hide the playfulness of his expression.

“Hee, you need something?” his tone is impassive as he kneels again right in front of you, the soft mattress dipping underneath his weight. “She’s with you, isn’t she?” Heeseung’s voice is firm, yet you can clearly spot the presence of a bitter edge in his tone. You might think he actually cares for a second or two. Except you are not naive enough to indulge in that fantasy anymore. Definitively not after what you found out earlier that day.

Jay can feel your uneasiness in an instant, being so intimately familiar with your emotions. He traces his lips down your neck while his fingertips move against the skin of your waist in an attempt to soothe your nerves, raising goosebumps along their wake. His touch grounds you right away, leaving you feeling secure and protected in his warm hold. “He can’t hurt you anymore,” he whispers before taking the shell of your ear in his mouth and biting it gently, eliciting an almost inaudible sigh from you.

Hoon fixes his gaze on you before replying to Heeseung’s question, “Yes, she’s here right now.”Your eyes widen at his answer. You expected him to deny knowing anything about your whereabouts, end the call and come back to pick up right from where he left off.

“Can I talk to her? Just a few minutes.”

Jay holds you tighter against his broad chest, the muscles of his arms tensing around you when he feels you try to move out of his grasp, stopping you from scooting closer to Sunghoon.

“That’s her decision to make.”

Sunghoon mutes the call, looking at you expectantly as he waits for you to think your choices through.

You have an idea of what the boys might be thinking, and while you’re not completely opposed to it, a pang of guilt courses through you at the idea of Heeseung finding out about you fucking your best friends. They’re his too after all. But you also know he deserves this. He deserves to know how good his lifelong brothers are fucking you.

As on cue, they both sense your inner turmoil. You can feel yourself relax against Jay as the other man dips his head down to press kisses on your lower abdomen and grab the back of your thighs, caressing them slowly.

“Relax, princess,” Jay whispers to you, lips brushing against your ear and nose nudging the strands of hair close to it.

“Hoon,” you moan quietly, “want to make him regret everything he ever did to me.”

The man in question grins up to you proudly, one of his canines peeking out slightly, “I think I have an idea then.”

“That's our girl.” Jay smiles against your neck as you feel him harden inside you, his thick length filling you up slowly once again.

“You okay with being watched?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the lewd suggestion, yet the familiar stab of need in your lower region is enough to help you make up your mind completely. You nod as you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Gonna need to hear you say it,” you hear Jay whisper while Sunghoon looks at you expectantly.

“Want him to watch you two fuck me, please.”

“Anything you want, angel.”

Sunghoon returns his attention to the device in his hands, unmuting the call and getting up from the bed once again.

“So? Can I talk to her? Can I see her?”

“Oh, you’ll see her alright,” He ends the call without waiting for an answer before walking to the window right in front of the bed and calling Heeseung again, this time on a video call.

“Sunghoon? Hello? What’s this all about?”

Sunghoon ignores him entirely, his full dark eyebrows furrowed from concentration while he’s too busy trying to get the perfect angle on the windowsill. Once he’s satisfied he steps back a bit to check one last time before starting to walk back to you and Jay, finally revealing you wholly to Heeseung, your naked form spread over Jay’s and your stuffed cunt on full display for him.

It’s silent for a while on the other end of the call while Sunghoon settles next to Jay, a wide grin on his face.

“Hot right?”

Your blood runs cold for a moment at how flat and detached Heeseung’s voice sounds when he opens his mouth again.

“Jay? What the fuck? What’s the meaning of this?”

Heeseung is absolutely floored by the scene playing out in front of him. He expected you to run crying to them as soon as you found out about him cheating like you have done every single time something went wrong between you two, just for you to crawl back to him in no time. That’s what he was anticipating. A few apologies and maybe a dinner date to win you back, that's what it took all the other times. But this?

He wants to end the call and drive to his best friends’ apartment, and then god knows what he'd do to them once he got there. But he also cannot help but stay frozen in place, sitting on the end of the bed in his own dark room.

Why does he think you have never looked as gorgeous as in that instant, with Jay’s thick hands all over your body? He should not be feeling like this. He should be way angrier than he is. Especially when someone else is touching what’s his.

Before Heeseung can even try to recover from the shock he’s experiencing, Sunghoon gently reaches for your chin – fingers warm and delicate on your skin – and angles your face towards his, soft eyes holding your gaze reassuringly. He leans down to capture your lips in a delicate kiss, the tenderness of it surprising you.

You yelp when he unexpectedly bites your lip. He takes the chance to slide his wet tongue inside your mouth, savouring your sweet taste.

One of his hands is cupping your face while the other starts to travel down your body, groping any inch of flesh he can reach, the contrast between the slow movements of his tongue and the roughness of his touch leaving you dizzy, putty in his hands.

Sunghoon has you wrapped around his finger, his scorching touch the only thing you can pay attention to, a siren luring you to him.

He draws back slightly, smiling when he notices you chase after his lips, “I think Jay might be feeling a little left out.”

Your attention is forced back on Jay as he starts thrusting inside you once again, fucking the mixture of both of your releases inside you, your cheeks flushing at the lewd sounds his movements cause.

Sunghoon inches two of his long fingers into your cunt to collect some of the mess seeping out of you and brings it up to Jay’s mouth, who obediently takes them in as he keeps eye contact with you, your head tilted back on his shoulder. He hums at the taste and laps the fingers clean before releasing them with a pop. Watching him enjoy eating his own cum does inexplicable things to you, and you know it clearly reflects on your expression when he tries uselessly to stifle a little giggle at how desperate you look.

His thrusts are teasingly slow and shallow. You need more, so much more, to the point it’s beginning to be unbearable. So you grab his hand and bring it down to your clit, big glossy doe eyes begging him silently. Jay is visibly amused as he tsks at you and moves his hand to your inner thigh, his hand hot on your sensitive skin, the chill of his rings sending waves of shivers coursing through your body.

Sunghoon grabs your face and kisses you again, this time a lot more messily and wet, his own lust leaking through his composure. He pushes the fingers that Jay licked clean inside you unexpectedly, making you gasp in his mouth and draw back a bit with a string of spit following you, your airy moans filling the room.

Both Sunghoon’s fingers and Jay’s cock are dragging slowly against your walls, the added girth stretching you out deliciously despite the burning sting. It hurts, but it hurts so good you greedily find yourself wanting even more.

Despite having done a good job at keeping his composure, Sunghoon can’t help but start to get desperate. Seeing you enjoy yourself brings him a great amount of pleasure, but his weeping cock has been neglected for far too long, and he doesn’t think he can go on like this for much longer.

He knows they should prep you a bit more, but he’s sure you’d just take it anyway like the sweet angel you are if he pushed his cock right next to Jay’s in that instant. So good and obedient for him.

As if reading his friend’s mind, Jay slips out of you with a grunt and leaves you suddenly empty and clenching around nothing. Sounds of protest start to bubble in your throat but Jay’s hand harshly grabs your face, his lips smashing with yours to shut you up, “Patience, sweet thing.”

He manoeuvres your body so this time your side is facing the phone you had forgotten about once you thought Heeseung had ended the call, which is actually very much still on and showing him everything. Now that you’re aware of it again you can make out faint squelching sounds coming from it. Your mouth hangs open at the realization that Lee Heeseung is fucking his fist to the little show you guys have been putting on for him.

You already knew him to be a pervert, but this seems like a new low even for him.

You want to think you feel utterly insulted by this new information, but all you can find within yourself is deep satisfaction. Ecstasy courses through your veins at the thought of how humiliating this must be for him, how pathetic he must feel. You’re itching to make him feel even worse about his situation, so you muster up the most distressed look you can manage and crawl on all fours towards Sunghoon, exaggerating the sway of your behind.

“Please Hoonie, want you both to stuff me full right now, Heeseung has never made me feel this good,” you say as you wiggle your hips for the camera pointed at you.

“You’re putting on a show for Heeseung?”

Your head shoots up to meet his gaze as soon as you hear his mocking tone, a slight arch on one of his eyebrows while he stares at you, clearly amused by your attempt.

“Huh, no I-” you don’t manage to finish your sentence as Jay interrupts you by grabbing your hips and positioning your body over his, your breasts pushed against his chest this time. His voice is sultry, warm breath fanning over your ear and sending tingles down your spine, “Aren’t you a dirty little slut mmh? Begging to get fucked just to make Heeseung jealous?”

The air is somehow thicker than it was just a few seconds ago, and you should be offended at the name Jay just used, but instead, you find it makes you crave their touch even more. You hear Sunghoon swiftly unbuckle his belt behind you, “We’ve been so nice to you, and this is how you repay us?”

“I don’t understand-” you’re once again interrupted by Jay, this time his rough hand clasps around your throat and squeezes lightly, just enough to replace your words with a hoarse gasp. He brings you closer to his face, warm breath tickling your own, “You’re still thinking about that bastard, acting like a little slut for him, that’s what the problem is. Is it clear enough now?”

You struggle to nod in his grasp, prompting him to apply more pressure on your throat.

“Words.”

“I understand,” you barely manage to choke out, voice raw from being suppressed, even if for such a short amount of time.

He releases you from his hold, leaving you gasping for air. Sunghoon barely gives you any time to recover as you feel him take hold of your wrists, just one of his hands big enough to keep them in place. He looks at you for a split second and leans his chin towards the discarded belt on the bed before speaking, “Is this okay with you?”

You’re about to nod, but remember their insistence on using words, so you opt for a shy yes instead. Jay chuckles, fondly brushing his knuckles on your cheekbones, “You were so eager to act like a little whore just a few minutes ago. What happened, doll?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words, and this time he catches your reaction, a dark glint making its way into his eyes. You have no time to react to it as your attention is grabbed by the smooth leather of Sunghoon’s belt being secured tightly around your wrists, binding them together.

Jay grabs his member and slides it between your folds a few times, collecting some of the wetness before sliding in, hissing at the feeling of your walls enveloping him.

“Still so tight, how are you gonna fit both of us, doll?” His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass, pushing you up and down on his cock. You take the hint and start moving, back arching and hands placed on his chest as leverage.

The space behind you is suddenly empty as Sunghoon stands up and walks towards the windowsill to grab the phone that is balanced on it. He addresses Heeseung, “Still here? You’re enjoying this mhh?”

“Nasty freak,” the smile that takes over his features is almost devilish, not his usual flirtatious grin, “Gonna give you an even better view, one you will never forget.”

He points the camera towards you, giving Heeseung a clear view of you riding Jay. He stills your hips with his other hand for a few seconds before bringing it to Jay’s mouth and signalling to spit on it. He brings his hand back to his cock and smears the wetness all over it, fisting himself a few times before aligning it on your entrance, finally pushing in next to Jay with a groan.

They both stay still for a moment, just enough to let you adjust to their combined girths. The stretch is almost unbearable for the first few moments, white-hot pain blinding your vision.

Jay throws his head back against the headboard and lets out a loud drawn-out moan. His hand is resting on your waist, the warmness of it helping you ground yourself. Sunghoon grabs your bound wrists and pushes your body to lay against Jay’s fully, giving himself and Heeseung a perfect view of your overly stretched hole as the man under you resumes thrusting up into you.

Heeseung thinks he must have gone insane when he has to physically stifle a moan at the sight of Sunghoon’s hips slowly starting to move, cock dragging next to Jay’s. He feels betrayed, not by you but by his best friends. He wonders how long they have been waiting to stick their weeping cocks inside you, how long they’ve eyed you like prey without him ever noticing, how many nights they must’ve spent fucking their fists thinking about you while he pounded you sweet little cunt. Oh, how the tables turned.

He wants to call them fucking perverts for this, but he knows he’s not in a position to judge anyone. Not when he’s getting off to the sight of your cunt getting stuffed by them. He might be even worse.

The sight on his phone is unbearably lewd to begin with, but your cries of pleasure make it so much worse. Never have you sounded like that for him. You’re so fucking wet for them Sunghoon almost accidentally slides out a few times. Heeseung thinks about how snug it must feel, how hard you must be clamping around them, and he clenches his fist tighter to mimic the feeling, Adam's apple bobbing as your moans get louder. He wants to be the one fucking you right now so bad, so desperate to cum inside you this time he can’t stop one of his pitiful sobs from escaping.

You are visibly caught off guard by the sounds he’s making, and when you turn your head back to the phone Heeseung can’t help but cum without any warning. Your Angelic eyes are so big and glassy, the stark contrast to the sight of your hole getting pounded making him lightheaded. He keeps stroking himself, riding out his orgasm as pathetic whines fall from his lips and thick spurts of hot cum cover his hand, even more shame setting in.

Sunghoon notices you try to sneak glances at his phone and feels irritation settle in his chest. Why are you still thinking about him? He drags you up by the belt, a surprised yelp leaving your lips at the sudden change of position. His mouth is right next to your ear as he whispers to you in a husky tone, “Your attention is elsewhere. Are we not fucking you good enough baby? Still thinking about that little bitch?”

He drops the phone somewhere on the bed, denying Heeseung of your sight and leaving him with only the sounds and his imagination. The hand that was holding the device teasingly wraps around your throat. His hands are softer than Jay’s and so is his hold, but the mere presence of it makes your stomach flip, “We’ll fuck you so dumb you can barely think at all, let alone pay attention to Heeseung.”

His tone when mentioning your ex-boyfriend’s name is so venomous it makes you wonder if he’s been feeling like this for a while now. Does he feel like you’ve ignored him for the red haired man on the other line of the call? Have you been unaware of any advance made by him? You start to think back to all the times you might’ve misinterpreted his actions, but you can’t dwell too much on any of it because Jay is suddenly pistoning a lot faster inside you, his feet planted on the bed and hips slightly lifted to give himself room to match your movements while Sunghoon’s are still slow and sensual. You’re gradually losing yourself in the pleasure the two men are providing you, the thoughts that were starting to form earlier completely out of the window.

“Has anyone ever fucked you this good, doll?” Jay asks, even though he knows the answer and only wants to hear you say it. In fact, it’s all you can think about at that moment: how no one has ever fucked you this good, how they’re ruining sex with anyone else for you, how every time you find yourself needy you’re just gonna have to go back to them and beg them to do anything to make you cum.

You eagerly nod your head to him, eyes closing when you struggle to form against their onslaught on your poor tiny hole, stretched beyond what you can take, “Fuck- yeah, no one ever.”

Jay chuckles and you feel the vibrations on the skin of your cheek, his lips brushing against it while Sunghoon coos at your enthusiasm, “Is that so mmh? Not even our Heeseung?”

You’re quick to shake your head, “No, not even him.'' This seems to only spur the men further, Jay’s thrusts becoming somehow faster and Sunghoon’s more precise and deep.

Sunghoon grabs your bounded wrists and uses them to slide you over their cocks, the slick mess between your legs coating their thighs too, leaving you no room for movement. All you can do is sit there prettily for them and take it, your mouth falling open and eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Your cunt was made for our cocks,” Jay is grunting in your ear, one of his hands leaving your hips to grab your chin, “Gonna ruin you for everyone else."

You helplessly clench around them even harder at his words, so snug they can barely move, deep grunts and moans filling the air.

They know you’re close by the way your cunt keeps clenching as if trying to impossibly suck them in further. You're babbling by that point. Barely coherent strings of praising words showing them how dumb on their cocks you are, not even able to form complete sentences.

Your front collapses on Jay’s chest as you come undone around them, your vision blinded and hearing muffled for a few seconds from the sheer strength of your bliss. Sunghoon is still holding your bottom up, his thrust losing precision and becoming rougher and messier, matching Jay’s erratic ones. You still haven’t come down from your high when you feel Sunghoon’s fingers trace circles on your puffy abused nub, earning whines of protests from you that are immediately swallowed by Jay’s mouth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip sensually, “Just a little more, you’re doing so good angel.”

The coil in your stomach is building once more and you try to fuck your hips back against Sunghoon’s, the pain so good and addicting you greedily want more and more.

“Inside please,” you sniffle pathetically as tears form on your lashes. Sobs leave your chest as you come for them a second time, your breath getting knocked out of your chest as your come makes a mess on both of their thighs.

“Did you just squirt angel? Fuck, that’s hot,” As soon as Jay realizes what just happened he stills his hips against yours and paints your walls with his hot cum. Sunghoon’s mouth hangs open in a silent moan as he feels both of your slicks push against his throbbing member, prompting his own high to wash over him.

You’re all catching your breaths as Sunghoon keeps fucking the mix of your releases inside you, not wanting any of it to slide out and go to waste. Jay has to tap his hips a few times to get him to stop.

A mewl leaves your lips when they carefully slide out of you, the emptiness so sudden you find yourself missing the way they filled you completely right away.

You’re so spent you can barely move, but you manage a small smile when Jay kisses your temple softly, caging you in his arms while Sunghoon grabs a towel to clean up the sticky mess you made.

He retrieves his phone too, taking note of the ended call, before opening the camera app and grabbing your ankles, parting your sore legs as far as you can manage.

He points the camera at you and easily slides two fingers back inside you, earning tired weak sounds of protest from you.

“Shh, am only showing our Heeseungie what he missed,” he lowers his face down to your cunt and slides his fingers out, quickly replacing them with his tongue. He takes as much cum as he can in his mouth, then comes up back again and kisses you softly, tongue sliding some of the essence in his mouth into yours. He parts from your lips and scoots closer to Jay, repeating the same action.

Butterflies wreak havoc in your stomach when you stare at Jay, his eyes closing and savouring the taste, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows and licks inside of Sunghoon’s mouth, careful not to miss any drop.

Sunghoon parts from him with a smile, grabbing the warm wet towel he had set next to you and finally gently cleaning you up, careful not to stimulate you further. He lifts you up in his arms and walks to the bathroom, he sets you down carefully, hands hovering close to your body making sure you can stand up on your own before stepping back and signalling you to pee. Your cheeks heat up at his suggestion, earning a full chest laugh from him, “I just fucked the daylights out of you, and this is what you’re embarrassed about?”

He sets a shirt and a pair of his clean underwear on the sink before walking out of the room, “you’ll get a uti if you won’t, silly girl.”

You’re drowsy by the time you’re back in bed with them, Jay is whispering sweet nothings in the crown of your hair, sometimes giving you tiny pecks, and Sunghoon has his arms wrapped around your shoulders, one of his hands caressing your arm gently. You have no idea how you let Heeseung get away with treating you like he did when this is what you could have had all along. You don't know how this is gonna change your relationship with everyone involved, but you decide you'll worry about it another time, the comfortable silence lulling you to sleep as the men next to you continue to swoon over you.

a/n: tagging users that i think wanted a part 2, sorry if not!!

@sweetjaemss @heeseungshim @fmdmbaa

@secretlyapartofthisfandom @adult-kinda @sunghoonsgff

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 3 days

Text

550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader

...

"Come here, medic."

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.

You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.

"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.

Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.

Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.

"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."

Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."

Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.

Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”

"Thank you," you say quietly.

"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.

Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"

"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."

"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"

Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.

"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.

"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"

"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"

"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”

Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.

...

more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag

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shadow4-1 · 2 days

Text

I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

#cod imagines #mw2 #call of duty #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #captain price #kyle gaz garrick

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moonstruckme · 2 days

Note

hi!! ngl i’ve never actually requested anything so im kinda nervous to do so but if it’s possible, do you think you could write something along the lines of eddie munson with like an anxious reader? maybe she has a panic attack and he’s there to help in the aftermath or just an overall anxious person. i know you’ve written something similar with the marauders so i hope that this is okay for me to request. i love love love ur writing!

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: aftermath of panic attack

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 642 words

Eddie’s rambling hasn’t stopped since you sat down, but it’s become background noise for you, like ocean sounds or the music they play in grocery stores. You know well enough how to get yourself through this. His hand on your back is a steady, if somewhat frantic, reassurance.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, his rhythm slowing as you blow out a lungful of air, bending your head towards your knees. You hold up a weak thumbs-up, and it picks up again. “Shit, yeah, you’re okay, baby. You’ve got it.”

You feel bad that this is Eddie’s first time dealing with you like this, though it’s nice to be in his trailer and not at the mall or in a restaurant or something. His couch is familiarly uncomfortable, lumpy in places and nearly flat in others, and the air smells like weed and grease, the electric fan Wayne brings out for the summer months whirring diligently in the corner. You’re glad Wayne’s not home now, though someone should probably be around to comfort Eddie after he’s done comforting you.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks again. “You want some water or something?”

This time, you nod. Your boyfriend all but springs up from the couch, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and hustling it back to you like he’s training to be one of the NASCAR pit stop people. You take it from him, rubbing the condensation from the bottle on the back of your neck before taking a sip. The chill is grounding. You rest your head back on your knees.

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Eddie grabs another water bottle from the fridge once he sees what you did with the first, holding it to your neck. “You seem better. Sounding less like Darth Vader.”

You laugh a little, and he laughs back nervously.

“Yeah,” you say, “it’s mostly better now.”

He blows out a breath. “Phew, okay. Jesus. You’re a fucking champ, you know that?”

“Thanks,” you chuckle. “Sorry I put you through that.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who went through something just now, so consider your apology heard and nullified.” Eddie’s lips come down on the back of your head. “I’d tell you where to shove it, but I’m feeling kind of bad for you right now. Count your blessings.”

“Oh, I’m counting them.” You smile down into the semi-dark valley between your legs and chest, taking one more deep breath in and out before lifting your head. “Okay, I’m good.”

“Yeah?” As he pulls back to see you, your boyfriend doesn’t look so sure. His eyebrows are pulled up in the middle, freakishly huge eyes full of freakishly sweet worry. “Good enough for a hug?”

You hum your assent, and in the next second you’re in his lap. Eddie goes all the way, curving his body over yours as his arms wrap protectively around your back and his cheek squishes into yours.

“It scares me when you’re scared,” he admits.

“Sorry.”

“No—goddamnit, what did we say about that? You’re lucky you’re cute, I swear—don’t be sorry. Obviously it’s not your fault, I’m just sorry that happened to you. It seemed really fucking shitty.”

“It felt really fucking shitty,” you agree. “I’m wiped.”

“Honestly? Me too.” Eddie chuckles. “Nap?”

“Yes, please,” you say, but wriggle closer to him, preventing him from getting up. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. He starts rubbing your back again, contemplative.

“You wanna sleep here, or on the bed?”

“Bed,” you answer immediately.

“...right. But are you gonna get up and go to the bed?”

You make a thoughtful humming sound, grasping him tighter. “Probably not. Maybe you could carry me?”

A sigh, long and dramatic. “Yeah, maybe I could.” Eddie’s hands move to grip you more securely, and he grunts as he stands. “You’re seriously lucky you’re cute, trouble.”

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drudyslut · 23 hours

Note

Your requests are open again! Also this says rafe but you can change it to jj if you want!

Anyways...Reader and rafe are dating and reader has birth control but still gets nervous it won’t work so they use condoms and they both want to be closer together/not have a condom between them (but do not want to risk it), so reader suggests him practicing pulling out (while wearing a condom) and after a few times he is able to control himself, so reader says she does not want to use a condom if he is okay with not using one so it is kind of romantic and their first time with nothing between them and they feel closer and more intimate, but when he is about to pull out reader says it feels too good and tells him not to and so rafe is like “I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold it baby” and practically begs him to just cum inside (and he is like what? Are you sure?) and reader is like “I don’t care. Don’t pull out”

omfffffg. this is hot🤤 also, i did switch it to jj, hope that’s fr okay🥺🫶🏻 this just gives jj vibes bc rafe be fuckin’ without a condom no matter what, man does not gaf.

CW: 18+ only! strong language, fem receiving oral, protected sex, eventual unprotected sex, cream pie, praise and degrading.

“J, I’ve told you, let’s just practice your pulling out with a condom, and then I promise, once you can control yourself, we’ll go raw.”

You want to feel closer to him, feel all of him, as much as he does you. And even though you’ve been on birth control since the two of you started dating — two years — you’re too afraid it won’t be effective.

And the last thing you and JJ need is a baby. You’re not financially in a spot to support a child, so for now, you continue using the protective barrier.

JJ sighs. “You’re right, baby.”

You can’t help but frown. You understand how frustrated he is, you’re just as frustrated, but you’re just doing what you feel is best. You want to feel JJ raw, but you just cannot risk it right now.

“Wanna practice now?” You ask with a smirk on your lips.

JJ grins widely, showcasing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Absolutely I do.”

He walks toward you, his large hands grabbing your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, giggling when he slaps at your ass. “‘M gonna enjoy fucking you, taking out my frustration on you. Once I get my control, ‘m taking this sweet fucking pussy raw.”

The two of you reach his bedroom in the chateau, and he tosses you onto the bed, making you squeal and giggle uncontrollably. “Fuck me, JJ. Take your frustrations out on me. I can’t wait to feel all of you, so learn control fast.”

It’s been two weeks of you and JJ practicing his pulling out with a condom on. He’s finally ready, he finally gets pulled out perfectly, and you know he’s going to come to you soon about going raw.

“Baby, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”

You smile, taking a bite of the apple you’d grabbed out of the fruit bowl. “Mmm, I dunno baby. ‘M not really in the mood.” You joke.

JJ’s eyes narrow. He takes two long steps toward you, making you step back. Your back presses into the counter behind you, and his arms come to rest on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He lifts his right hand, running it down the side of your face before he knocks your apple into the floor, making you gasp.

“I was eating that!”

He runs his hands down your sides, resting them on your hips. He tightly grips at your waist, lifting you and resting your ass on the countertop. “So? I wanna eat now. I’m starved baby.”

You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers find your exposed thighs, running them up slowly until they disappear under the soft fabric of your dress.

His fingers find your panties, running over the soaked material. “She’s already wet for me baby. Begging for my tongue and cock.”

Your hips buck off the counter, and a moan escapes your lips. He pulls your ass to the edge of the counter, and you place your hands behind you, supporting your weight and keeping yourself from falling.

He drops to a squatting position, tossing your legs over his shoulders and pushing your panties to the side. He runs his index finger through your arousal soaked core, gathering your arousal on his finger before removing it and bringing it to his lips, humming in approval. “Hmmm. So fuckin’ sweet, always baby. Like fucking honey.”

You moan loudly at the sound of his low and raspy voice, the dirty words making your pussy wetter.

“Shit! Stop teasing, J.”

He smirks, leaning his head forward and sinking his teeth into your inner thigh, making sure to leave marks. “J, please?” You beg, the feel of his tongue running over your inner thighs, licking over the fresh teeth marks, has you squirming.

“Such a needy little slut for me.”

He runs his tongue through your slick folds, slowly licking you from your entrance to your clit. Your entire body jerks when the tip of his tongue licks over your sensitive bud.

JJ’s tongue pushes inside your entrance, teasing you as he rubs lazy circles around your clit. He flattens his tongue, his head moving up and down as he devours your pussy. He pulls his head back, shoving two fingers inside you and sucking your clit into his mouth. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers harshly pushing in and out of you until he has your entire body shaking.

“JJ-” you breathe out. “Fuck me, please”

He slows his fingers, letting your clit fall from his mouth with a pop. He removes your legs from his shoulders, standing to his full height and popping the button on his jeans, his zipper following quickly behind.

You stare down at his hard cock through your lashes, his right hand firmly gripping the base. He strokes himself softly a few times before he teases his head at your entrance. Your heart hammers in your chest, you’re about to feel all of him for the first time, and him feel all of you.

You let out a small whimper when he pushes his head inside. “Fuck, already feels s’much better baby girl, goddamn.”

He slowly sinks more of himself inside you, pushing each inch inside little by little until he fills you to the hilt. A loud moan is ripped from your chest when his swollen tip hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

JJ doesn’t move, his eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on the feel of your warm, wet pussy wrapped around him. “Fuck, baby. This pussy feels even better than I imagined, so wet and warm, gripping my cock like she was made for me.”

He begins to slowly pull himself out, his eyes watching in awe at how tightly your pussy gripped him, a creamy ring already formed around his cock.

You whimper as he slowly pulls himself from inside you, missing the feel of his thick cock inside you once he fully pulls out. You open your mouth to beg him to put it back in, but he’s harshly slamming back into you before the words come out, making you cry out his name as his tip nudges against your g-spot.

“F-fuck.. JJ, you feel so fucking good, so b-big! Oh, my God.”

JJ’s hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh as he brutally pounds himself into you. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my dick so well, look at how she grips my cock baby. All fuckin’ mine!” he grunts out breathlessly.

Your eyes wander down to where the two of you connect, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, pussy clenching around him tightly from how good it feels to finally feel all of him.

“J-JJ! Fuck, ‘m gonna… ‘M gonna cum! Go harder, please!” you beg, your hands finding his upper arms and gripping at them so hard you feel the skin break beneath your nails.

Your pleas for him to fuck you harder spur him on, his large hands gripping the underside of your ass and lifting you from the countertop. He stills himself inside you, steadying himself and making sure his hold on you is secure before he begins fucking up into you harder, faster.

The room is filled with the lewd squelching of your pussy, skin slapping against skin, and you and JJ’s moans mixing together. Your pussy tightens around him, a sweet tightness building in your lower belly as your orgasm nears. JJ can sense you’re close, his darkened over blue eyes finding yours, “Let go f’me baby. Make a fucking mess all over my cock, wanna feel you come undone around me.”

JJ’s words mixed with his harsh thrusts send you flying off the edge. Your pussy tightens, stars exploding behind your eyes as you come hard, soaking JJ’s cock and thighs. “Fuck! JJ, don’t stop, don’t… Don’t fucking stop!”

“‘M close, princess, gotta… Gotta pull out.” JJ says breathlessly.

You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, burying your face into his neck as your lips attack the skin with bites and kisses. “No! Don’t, don’t pull out, J. Just… Just keep going, shit!”

JJ’s mind goes foggy, hearing you beg him not to pull out was the hottest thing he’d ever heard, and honestly, he didn’t want to pull out, you felt too fucking good to stop. Sure, neither of you were thinking clearly, and he’d definitely have to find the money to buy you a plan B, but it was going to be worth it, to fill your pussy with his cum and watch it drip from your pussy.. Yeah, it was worth it.

His hips begin stuttering, his dick twitching as he thrusts himself up into you a few more times. He feels his dick swell inside you, twitching one final time before the hot ropes of his release spill inside you.

“Ffffuck, baby.” JJ groans, thrusting up one final time.

He sits you back onto the counter, slowly pulling himself from inside you and watching in awe as his thick, white cum leaks from your sensitive hole.

He grins, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “So beautiful when you’re dripping my cum.”

You let out a breathless giggle, your head falling forward as you whisper, “That was worth the wait.. We’re never going back to condoms, ever. ‘Kay?”

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vivwritesfics · 2 days

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Fake It Till You Make It

Chapter Six - Where Is The Party Princess?

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

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a/n: thank you so much to @nirrahbrii for help with some translations! i don't think this chapter would have been the same without that little world lol

Where Is The Party Princess?

The Monaco Post prides themselves on their ability to keep the public updated on the whereabouts of our favourite royal. We've documented every one of her scandals, from the time where she was fifteen years old and found herself detained by the police, to last year, when she was caught in bed with American actor, Glen Powell.

For the past few years, we have thanked the Princess of Monaco for providing us with such stories. She was a royal like no other, one we found our readers could relate to.

So, that leaves us to wonder, where is the party princess now? It has been a week since we've last seen Princess Y/N. Our sources have reached out to members of the royal family and staff for comment, but only managed to get one reply.

It seems, dear readers, that our beloved party Princess has run away.

"Are you sure you want the party princess to drag you down to her level? Because that's what's going to happen next time we're pictured together."

Charles turned his full body towards her. "What're you saying?" He wore a frown on his face, one that didn't suit him. She realised it immediately. He looked so downtrodden when he frowned. "Do you want to break this arrangement off?"

Once again she shrugged. "Just giving you the option to get out before you end up like Frédéric Archambeau," she said.

"Who is Frédéric Archambeau?"

"Exactly."

Charles sucked in a breath. He drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair and stood up. "That's it," he said, striding towards her. "We can break off this arrangement, if you want, but I'm not going to leave you to here to rot."

She scoffed. "Stop pretending to care."

Immediately, Charles took a hold of her mug and placed it down onto the coffee table. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "We're going away."

She couldn't stop the laugh that was pulled from her lips. "Fuck off, Charles," she said and pulled her hand out of his.

But Charles grabbed her again. He pulled her towards her bedroom. "Pack a bag, we're going somewhere warm," he said and pulled open her wardrobe.

"Where?" It wasn't a genuine question, more of a challenge. She sat on the bed and folded her legs under her body, watching him. "Where the fuck are you taking me?" Her voice was bitter, filled with venom as she watched Charles.

He found a suitcase under her bed and began throwing clothes in. It was impossible to sort out what was clean and what wasn't, so Charles just threw it all in. "Australia," he said. "Or Spain. We can go wherever."

"I don't want to go with you," she said immediately.

Charles released an exasperated sigh. "I am begging you to go along with this," he said as he crouched in front of her. "Don't even do this for me. Do it for yourself!"

"Why?" She cried. "Why the fuck do you care about me?!"

Charles dropped his head into his hands. "Please," he said quietly. "Just, let me help you."

It wasn't for her, she realised quickly. For some reason, Charles needed this. He needed this trip, she just didn't know why he needed her. "Fine," she said and began filling her suitcase with everything she'd need for a trip away.

A relieved breath left his lips. "Thank you," he whispered.

That was how she found herself in Greece with Charles Leclerc. For the first few days, the tabloids had left them alone. The Monaco press wasn't around to write new crap about her (so they'd been recycling the same old crap).

It took a few days for her to really warm up to him. She knew Charles, sure, but she knew the Charles the world saw. She knew the rich kid from Monaco, the one that the tabloids wrote about, the one that had the tiktok edits made about him.

She didn't know the real Charles. The Charles that loved his friends. The Charles that had so much he wanted to do with his life. The Charles that was genuinely so funny. She knew the F1 driver that doubled as a super model, she knew CL16, not Cha.

Cha. When had she taken to calling him that? It had happened all at once, but she hadn't stopped. It was maybe their second day in Greece, their second day of peace, their second day of getting away from it all.

Every call she'd gotten from Henri, she'd ignored. She didn't need her brother's constant scrutiny. He didn't approve of the trip, that much was clear, but she didn't care. Henri had tried calling Charles, but, at her request, he didn't pick up the phone.

Both the Princess and Charles were used to being waited on through their vacations. They were rich enough that it had become expected. But, for this vacation, Charles wanted it to just be the two of them. No interruptions, nobody to report back to the press.

Just the both of them making the most of it.

She stepped out of her bedroom in the villa and yawned. Her body was adorned in nothing but shorts and a vest top as she walked across the cold stone flooring, heading towards the kitchen.

Charles was already sitting there. He sat in just his swimming trunks, a coffee in front of him as he went through his emails. (As embarrassing as it was to admit, it had taken the two of them two days to work out how to use the coffee machine. She and Charles each had a coffee machine, but this one was different, not as simple as having a 'go' button.)

"Wanna go out for drinks tonight?" She asked as she sat opposite him. Her body was turned towards the kitchen doors, looking towards the pool.

She hadn't had a drink since they'd gotten to Greece. Charles was incredibly proud of her, although he hadn't said anything. "We can go for a few," he answered. Nothing too crazy, Charles wasn't sure what to do with her if she got too crazy.

He was barely able to take care of her after they'd gone to The Hole In The Wall.

Maybe that was what led Charles to suggest something else. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't in good conscience take her out for a night on the town. They'd managed to stay out of the spotlight for this long, and Charles could see how much good it was doing her. Doing both of them.

He wasn't ready to drag her back into it.

"What if we stay here?" He asked, standing up and walking towards the glass doors. He carried his coffee mug with him as he looked at the pool sparkling in the morning sun. "We could have drinks around the pool."

She let out a snort, one she assumed he would have found unattractive. "You still that embarrassed to be seen with me?" She asked through her snort. But then she saw the way his face fell. "I'm joking, Cha. Yes, I'd love to have drinks with you around the pool."

They went about their day, swimming in the pool, lounging in the sun, going out for lunch together (always in big hats and sunglasses. It wasn't the most covert operation, but it was working).

In the evening, Charles attempted to make dinner. He wasn't the best cook out there, but it was something he enjoyed. They'd gotten drinks on their way back from lunch, shopping in the little supermarket on their way back to the villa.

It wasn't supposed to be anything fancy, but she still dressed up. Charles had the nicest shirt and shorts combo that he'd brought with him and she wore a pretty little dress.

He wasn't going to admit that the sight of her walking down the stairs, sitting in the little out by the pool in that pretty little dress, it would have had a weaker man on his knees. Charles didn't know how he was still standing. Maybe because he wanted to help her, maybe because he respected her brother too much to try anything on.

She sang his praises while she ate, a far cry from the girl he'd practically forced to pack a bag just a few days ago. This was a side of her that the world had forced to hide away. This was the side of her he wanted to see, the real her that he wanted the world to fall in love with. Not the her that the world had decided to hate.

When they finished eating, they just sat there, drinking and talking as they looked at the pool. "So, are you actually friends with my brother, or is it just because he's the princess?" She asked as she drank from her wine glass.

Charles let out a laugh. That was exactly the kind of question he'd expected from her. "Henri and I are actually friends," he answered, not paying attention to the way her toe hit his knee (he didn't mind it, not one bit). "I'll admit, I felt bad when people called me the Prince of Monaco, and that may have contributed to me wanting to be friends with him. But our friendship is real."

She nodded as she sipped. "Must be nice having the Prince of Monaco at your every beck and call," she mumbled.

"You're saying that like you don't."

That dry laugh he'd heard so many times before, that dry laugh that Charles hated to hear, left her lips. "Trust me, Cha, I don't." She finished her drink and stood up. "At least, not the real Prince of Monaco."

He couldn't tell whether it was the alcohol that controlled her. But she hiked up her skirt and sat himself in her lap. It was so sudden, so unexpected, he had no idea what to do. Her hands were around his neck. "I'd rather have the unofficial Prince of Monaco at my beck and call. What do you think of that?"

Charles couldn't react. He didn't get a chance to, not when she pressed her lips to his own.

It wasn't slow, it wasn't full of passion. No, it was quick and clumsy. One taste of her lips against his own. And, when she pulled away, she laid her head against his shoulder. "I shouldn't have done that," she whispered as she played with his hair. "Oh, crotte."

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btsqualityy · 1 day

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BTS Dating Series #17: Pet Peeves

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Little things that just....annoy you or him about each other.

Warnings: None to note.

Kim Seokjin

You threw your body into a chair in the corner of your bedroom, folding your arms across your chest as Jin stared at you incredulously. The two of you had been in a somewhat heated disagreement and once you started to feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, you chose to just...stop talking in an effort to calm yourself.

"Are you really gonna not say anything else?" Jin wondered, huffing harshly when you only responded with further silence. "You know, that's another thing that you do that I hate."

"What?" You couldn't help but to ask.

"Any time we have an argument or even a hard conversation, you clam up and stop talking," he explained. "That makes it almost impossible to fix anything and it also makes me feel like some type of villain."

"Oh," you murmured, looking down at your feet. "I didn't realize that it made you feel that way. I just..."

"What?" Jin encouraged as he stepped over to you and bent down so that he was looking up at you.

"In past relationships, whenever I would get chastised or yelled at, I found that not saying anything helped to not escalate things," you admitted, finally looking up at your boyfriend. "I don't want things to escalate with you, Jin."

"Oh baby," he murmured, grabbing your hands and bringing them both up to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to them before he pulled them away to speak. "You never have to worry about that with me. Whenever we're disagreeing about something, it's never me against you. It's us against the problem, ok? It doesn't mean that I hate you or that I don't want to be with you because that would never be the case, ok?"

"Ok," you nodded. "I'm sorry for shutting down on you. I'll do my best to work on that."

"Ok," Jin agreed. "I love you."

"I love you too," you replied before leaning down and kissing him softly.

Min Yoongi

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Yoongi chuckled in disbelief and you barely spared him a glance from your spot on his living room couch. You and Yoongi had planned to spend the whole weekend together since it was one of his rare ones off. However, he got called into the studio at the last minute and had to go handle it before you two headed out on your planned date for the day.

Now, that wasn't a problem for you whatsoever because Yoongi said he'd text you when he was heading back home. One hour went by, then two hours and by the time the third hour rolled around, you were throughly pissed off. Once he did finally make it back to his apartment where he'd left you, you had become resolute in giving him the silent treatment.

"Do you know how childish you're acting right now?" Yoongi wondered. "I know that I told you it wouldn't take me long and I'm sorry that it did but you can't be this upset over that!"

"You cannot tell me what I can and cannot be upset over," you finally spoke up.

"Oh look, she speaks." You glared at him, throwing him the middle finger before you folded your arms across your chest. All Yoongi could do was groan loudly as he ran his hands over his face, becoming more irritated as time went on.

"Listen, I do not do well with the silent treatment and I hate it when you do this so if you want me to fix it, you're going to have to cooperate and talk to me or else I won't be able to," he shrugged. "Up to you." You sighed heavily then, knowing that you were being petty and that your boyfriend was right.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I just got upset when you took longer than you said you would. Made it feel like you forgot about me."

"I could never forget about you," he cooed, bending down so that he was squatting in front of you as he took your hands in his to hold. "I'm sorry that I didn't keep you in the loop. I'll make sure to be more mindful of that, ok?" You nodded with a smile, surging forward and throwing your arms around him in a hug.

Kim Namjoon

"If you would just listen to me, I'd be able to explain it to you!" You exclaimed angrily as you stared at Namjoon, who was standing on the other side of the island in your kitchen. The two of you had been cooking dinner together when you made what was intended to be a light hearted joke about his cooking skills. However, Namjoon didn't take it that way at all which led to a full blown argument.

"You can be so flippant when you say certain things to me, you know?" Namjoon pointed out.

"Me, flippant?" You scoffed, throwing your hands up in immediate surrender. "And on that note, I need some space." You turned around and began to walk out of the kitchen but you realized that you could hear footsteps behind you.

"And that's another thing," Namjoon snapped. "Anytime we get into an argument or fight, you insist on walking away."

"Because I need space!" You shouted as you turned around to look at him. "I literally just said that or were you not listening?"

"We're not gonna fix anything if you keep doing that."

"But we're also not going to fix anything if I can't take the space I need to calm down so that I'm not escalating the situation," you explained. "I know you wanna talk it out but just....give me a little while."

"Fine," Namjoon relented and he turned around and walked away before you even had the chance to say another word.

Jung Hoseok

"It was so good to see you!" Hobi smiled to Juhyun, who grinned widely as Hobi gave her a gentle hug.

"It was good to see you as well, Hobi," she replied before turning around and walking out of the store. Hobi walked back over to you then, where you had been pretending to browse the store's selection of shoes but you had really been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"See anything you might like?" Hobi asked you and you shrugged noncommittally, biting your lip before you decided to just take the risk and ask what was on your mind.

"Can I ask you something?" You wondered.

"Anything."

"Are you still friends with all of your exes?" You questioned and Hobi rose an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't know if friends is the word I'd really use to describe it," he began. "Even if we broke up, none of them were necessarily on bad terms or anything like that so it's not hard for me to speak to them whenever I might see them."

"Hmm," you murmured and Hobi couldn't help but to smile at you.

"Jealous?"

"Don't know if jealous is really the word I'd use," you replied, echoing his previous statement. "But it does make me feel weird that you're.....so friendly. I don't like it."

"So, should I keep it to a hi and bye?" He asked. "And no hugs?"

"That actually would be nice," you nodded.

"Done," Hobi grinned. "Now, come on. I wanted to check out another store while we're here." You smiled to yourself as Hobi grabbed your hand and led you out of the store.

Park Jimin

You were laid out in Jimin's bed, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. You had had an extremely long day at work so needless to say, you were more than excited to see your boyfriend so that you could get all the cuddles that you could handle.

As you were browsing the internet on your laptop, you heard the front door open and close and not long after that, Jimin was pushing open the door to the bedroom.

"Hi Jimin-ssi," you greeted him happily, watching as he threw his bag down and instantly walked over to the closet.

"Hi baby," he muttered as he worked on changing out of his dance clothes and into more comfortable ones. As he did this, you closed the laptop and set it on the bedside table before you laid down on your side. Once Jimin was done changing, he walked over to the bed and laid down on his back, shutting his eyes and not saying a word.

"How was your day?" You spoke up and Jimin just shrugged, eyes still closed.

"Same old, same old."

"Did you guys finish learning the choreography to that new song you showed me?" You wondered and Jimin nodded. "Aw, I'm sure it's amazing. I can't wait to see it." Jimin still hadn't said a word and you sighed heavily. "Jimin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he deadpanned. "I'm fine."

"Baby, you're obviously not fine," you replied gently. "I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."

"Well, I don't want to talk," he grunted. "Just leave me alone."

"You know, I was really looking forward to you getting here because I had a long day too and all I wanted was to cuddle with you but if you're going to be a jerk just because you're in a shitty mood, then I'll just go home," you snapped and just as you moved to rip the blanket off of your body, Jimin gently grabbed your arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It was just a hard day and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"And that's fair that you didn't feel like talking but don't clam up on me," you murmured as you turned around to face him. "I'm here to help, always."

"I know," he smiled gently. "Come here." He opened his arms and you moved closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you as he held your body tightly to his. "I love you."

"I love you too," you whispered, smiling to yourself when you felt him kiss your forehead.

Kim Taehyung

"Oh my gosh, you know what we should do tonight?" Taehyung asked you and you looked up at him from your spot next to him on his couch. The two of you had planned on just having a date night in but apparently, Taehyung had other ideas.

"What?"

"We should get dressed and go to that new jazz club that just opened last month," he suggested and you instantly grimaced. "What is it?"

"I don't know about that," you replied. "I was kind of looking forward to staying in."

"But we've been doing that for so many weekends now," he pointed out. "It might be fun to get out, have a little change of scenery."

"Hmm, I don't think so," you shook your head and your eyes widened when you heard Taehyung sigh heavily.

"Why don't you ever want to go out?" He demanded to know. "I could probably count on one hand how often we've been out together, just to do something fun."

"I'm a homebody," you shrugged. "I've always preferred to be home to than go out to some club or something like that."

"And I fully respect that but couldn't we do it sometimes?" He suggested. "Just occasionally?"

"You know what, yeah," you agreed. "I promise, I'll try to make sure that we do more of the things you enjoy too, ok?"

"Thank you," Taehyung grinned widely before leaning over and kissing you firmly.

Jeon Jungkook

"What the hell?" You muttered as you picked pieces of clothes up off of the living room floor. "Has a man been staying with me or a fucking animal?" In an effort to spend more time together, Jungkook had been spending more time at your apartment and he had definitely made himself comfortable in your space. Maybe even a little...too comfortable.

"Baby, I have lamb skewers!" Jungkook exclaimed as he stepped through the front door of your apartment, one bag in each hand as he shut the door with his foot. He stopped right in his tracks though when he saw you standing in the middle of the living room with an unamused look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"No, the problem is what's wrong with you?" You demanded to know. "Have you never seen a hamper? Do you not know what it looks like so that you can put your clothes in it?"

"No, those are my clean clothes," he told you.

"Why are they on the floor then?"

"Because I didn't want them to get mixed up with my dirty ones," he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why not just put the dirty in the- you know what, no," you cut yourself off. "I'm not even gonna attempt to understand male logic. Just give me my skewers, please."

"Here you go," Jungkook smiled, waiting until you had dropped the clothes in your hands before he handed one of the bags off to you. "I love you."

"Yeah yeah, love you too, messy animal," you grumbled, making Jungkook laugh out loud.

..........................................................

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thecuriousquest · 3 days

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E2? Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi ?

FEMOID!

Pervert Incel Yan!Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Prompt: “You’re better off without them anyway.”

Warnings: NSFW, heavy Yandere themes, non con, bondage, gagging, degradation, incel pervert, face slapping, Megumi loses his virginity, porn references, facial

Master List

Yandere Alphabet Prompt List

Requests are temporarily closed. Thanks for understanding.

@murderofravens I’m not sure if you like Yan!Megumi content, so I just thought I’d tag you in it anyway.

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Megumi drags you into the bedroom, your feet kicking, your nails clawing at his arms. Your body twisting and thrashing as he throws you down on the bed and pins you there. He crawls over you, heavy on your chest.

You’re able to let loose one sharp scream before he’s slapping you across the face.

“Why are you pretending to be a victim? Poor baby. Can get all the dick she wants but closes her legs when a decent guy is interested in her.”

“A decent guy wouldn’t do this! Megumi, please!”

“Like you’d know anything about it. I know your type. You’re only after guys who treat you like trash while guys like me come in last. You’re a fucking pathetic whore, holding out on me just because you think you’re better. Is that it? You really think a little skank like you is better than the rest of us?”

He rips your shirt open, the buttons of your blouse going everywhere in different directions. He looks at your rack and smiles devilishly. You try to cover up, use your hands to block his view of your padded bra.

He doesn’t like that. Megumi holds your wrists down against the bed on either side of your hips. He leans in close, smelling the dot of perfume you usually put on your sternum. It’s faint, like a delicate flower, barely there, but he can still make it out.

Your squirming becomes too much for him to deal with. He slaps you again, making you so dizzy and compliant as he stands up to go get something. All you can do is groan and lay there as you try to get your bearings.

Megumi returns and grabs your limbs, and you come alive again when you feel something scratchy wrapping around your wrists.

“No! No, Megumi! Stop it! No! I don’t want this! I don’t want you!”

“Shut up!” He shouts at you. “I can’t believe anything that comes out of that lying, bitchy mouth.”

He tears off a piece of duct tape and shuts you up with it.

Megumi strips off his clothes. If you weren’t so terrified, you’d probably take the time to appreciate his athletic build. He’s just…oh fuck…hes palming himself, growing harder and harder as he looks at you all tied up for his own use.

He runs his hand up your inner thigh, hooking two fingers in your panties and pulling them down slowly. All the way off, he takes them in his hand and fists your cotton underwear against his cock right in front of you. He pumps himself until he has a full erection. It curves upwards slightly, long in length. His thick tip leaks with pre as he crawls over you once more.

Your skirt, bra, shoes, and socks are the next to go. Finally, he sees you, all of you in the state you were meant to be in: naked just for him.

Finally, he gets the girl.

He can see the tears in your eyes as you whimper and make incomprehensible noises behind the duct tape over your lips. He can’t help but smirk at your pathetic state.

“All you bitches are the same,” he whispers into your ear as he thrusts into you, pushing your knees up to your shoulders just like he’s seen so many pornstars do.

Taking your tight pussy might be the best thing Megumi has ever done for himself. He doesn’t know why he didn’t do this sooner. With the way you look at the other boys around campus, you fucking deserve it.

You throw your head back uncontrollably, thrusting your hips up without giving your body consent to do so. You don’t want this. Why, WHY, is your body reacting like you do?

This isn’t right! It isn’t normal. How his cock is hitting your sweet spot of pure pleasure, how he’s bumping your cervix with every heated thrust.

Megumi overstimulates you, biting down hard on your shoulder and pulling your hair back as he keeps himself up with one arm. The wild groans coming from his throat while beating your pussy senseless make you cry tears of terror and shame.

You don’t mean to do it. It just happens. He finally runs your g-spot so ragged that you can’t do anything but come. You’re a messy, twitchy little thing as Megumi splits you in half.

“You fuckmeats treat us like we’re less than you, less than human when we’re the superior ones. We’re your protectors. The least you can do is put yourself to good use and spread your legs,” Fushiguro taunts you, relishing in how weepy and scared you are.

Seeing your tears roll over the duct tape like that really drives him wild. He pulls out, fisting his cock until he’s spilling his seed all over you, giving you a nice and creamy facial.

When Megumi finishes, he’s panting heavily, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. You shake as you look at the back of his wild, dark hair.

“I hope you understand this means we’re together now.”

His words catch you off guard. You don’t want to be together with Megumi, but what can you do right now? You can’t even speak!

“You’re better off without them anyway.”

#yandere #triggering content #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #triggering themes #yandere x darling #yandere themes #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere megumi fushiguro #yandere megumi x reader #yandere megumi #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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polarisjisung · 23 hours

Text

MOTORBIKES & MELATONIN

synopsis: sleep doesn't find you in the comfort of your own home or under the covers tucked safely into your bed— sleep finds you in the warmth of park jisung's arms

wc: 1.1k

pairings: jisung × fem!reader, established relationship

genre: fluff

warnings: insomnia + mentions of using sleeping pills/supplement use of the word drug (literally once), speeding (follow the speed limit 🙏)

notes: emosung brainrot is in full swing (though there's not a lot of emosung mentioned) mostly self indulgent so probably not my best work since I was all up in my head but 🤷‍♀️

you're laying on your bed, aimlessly bouncing the soft tennis ball in your hand against the empty space of the wall just above your headboard. sleep never came easy to you and tonight is no different.

you'd tried it all, counting sheep, drinking warm milk, even meditation but nothing ever worked. instead you spent nights tossing and turning restlessly despite being tucked into the warm covers of your bed, chasing sleep.

just as you reach for the purple bottle that lays next to your bed, ready to pour half the jar of supplements into your hand and gulp them down with a glass of water, you hear it.

your perfect form of melatonin and serotonin mixed in one— your drug, your purpose.

the rumble is distinct. it comes with the soft vibration beneath your feet and the deep reverberation in your ears. the roaring of the v twin engine has you shooting up into a seated position as realisation washes over you

there's a dim red glow cast across your room by the break lights as you grab the loose fit leather jacket that rests over the back of your study chair. the woody oriental cologne still lingers through its material as you place it over your shoulders and run out of the front door.

there he is, helmet gripped loosely in his left hand, his right arm open and ready to welcome you into his embrace.

jisung's black hair flows in the wind, his forehead on show— paired with the soft smile he flashes you, you can't help but think he looks perfect.

"didn't even give me a chance to sneak into your room" he sulks taking you in between his arms, giving you a quick spin as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead

"can't blame a girl for wanting to see her boyfriend" you sigh, taking in his warmth with a smile

"yeah?" he pulls back to get a better view of your face, "miss me that much angel?"

"you know it sung"

his laugh is deep yet gentle, eyes sparkling at the sight of you

"well I'm here now"

jisung takes a quick step around you, his touch feather light as he gathers your open hair into a low ponytail, reaching for the hair tie on his wrist to tie it back

"too tight?" he says, voice full of worry and concern— when you shake your head he smiles, placing his helmet over your head

you wonder how people could ever think jisung was anything but the sweet, kind and warm hearted lover you knew, who wouldn't dare let you move an inch to do something he could do for you, like how he gently takes ahold of you in his arms and places you onto the seat of his bike, eventually taking your arms and wrapping them around his waist

"hold on tight" he whispers in that caring tone of his, that's reserved solely for you, ready to whisk you away for the night and you do just that, gripping his waist securely, but not before lifting his visor and pressing a quick kiss to his temple

jisung drives off, wordlessly but with a smile that speaks volumes

there's a warmth that radiates from jisung's body, the only thing keeping you from freezing as the wind rushes past you, blowing with harsh whistles, tyres screeching against the ground as he takes sharp turns through the streets leading towards the countryside

you'd snuck out before, driven way too far over the speed limit, done countless things that would define your reckless youth and yet nothing had your veins coursing with quite so much adrenaline as this, driving way too far, way too fast, with jisung, the person you loved way too much

like always, you find yourself in jisung's lap, god forbid he let you sit on the grass, wet from the fresh morning dew that rests over it, warm hues of orange and light pinks taking over the sky as you hold one another close, the wind still blowing strong gusts your way, your hair blowing in your face until jisung decides to take it between his fingers and hold it back in his palm

"I like this" you whisper, just loud enough that jisung hears it, his lip rising just enough for his teeth to come on show

"I like you" he responds, watching the warm glow of the sun reaching over the horizon through your eyes

"you do?" you smile, wider than you previously had been, it's a smile that reaches your eyes and jisung's unwavering gaze grows brighter at the realisation

"you're my girl, of course I do"

this time it's his turn to press a quick kiss to your forehead, but jisung's greedy, especially so when it comes to you and he can't help but want more, honey brown eyes resting on your lips

"give me a kiss and I think I'll love you forever" you can't help but giggle at the tickling feeling of jisung's hair against your neck as he pouts up at you

"yeah? didn't know my boyfriend needed kisses to do that" you tease with a roll of your eyes

"didn't know your what?" he asks, and you know exactly what jisung's doing, so you whisper the answer with nothing more than a shy smile straight into his ear

"my boyfriend"

"present" jisungs hand is raised and his voice is confident when he looks at you again, it's like he's begging you to tug at his shirt and crash your lips against his, and who were you to say no to him

"you're so cute" you let out between kisses, the bridge of your nose resting against jisung's, who now wears a look of faux offence

"yeah?" he asks, hoping you'll change your mind, though you don't let up, reaching out to ruffle his black hair "only for you"

somewhere between the late hours of the night and the early hours of dawn, between the quietus of your bedroom and the roar of his engine, between gazing up at the stars and watching the sunrise by the harbour— jisung hears your soft snores replace the quiet whispers of awe you once breathed out.

despite it all, jisung's smile remains all the same, radiant, warm and masked by the matte black helmet resting atop his head

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miwsolovely · 2 days

Text

—THE WEIGHT OF BLOOD.

pairing: outlaw!farmer!141 x fem!reader

series masterlist taglist (closed.) next

contains: pov change, graphic violence, gore, reader’s husband insults her, mentions + use of knife in this chapter, reader is called a whore, implications of kidnapping, drugs.

summary: slippery floors.

wc: 4.7k

a/n: oh…

You always felt as if you were walking on eggshells with him.

It’s how you used to feel with him. When the sun was barely shining on your life and peppering your face with light, guilty, kisses.

Now that the sun is hidden by the horizon, no longer are the kisses light and guilt ridden, but they are harsh and forceful. No more are the rays hitting your skin with a warm embrace, but its replaced with a chill so unforgiving it’s like a whip against your skin.

No longer are the eggshells digging into your skin, because glass shards are piercing into your feet, digging into the flesh and staying there so that every time your once delicate, soft feet hit the floor, a wave of pain and realization washes over you.

Every step is a reminder; you’re never going to be free of him.

You let out a shaky breath and wince at your husband’s booming voice. Pointing fingers and yelling curses.

Johnny and Simon are doing little to nothing to stop him, in fact, they seem to be holding back.

Why?

Why are they holding back when your husband, James Fitzroy, is insulting their mothers? Their sisters, brothers? Them?

“We didnae do nothin’ to ye,” Johnny starts, standing in front of Simon when James gets too close for his liking. “So back the hell off.”

James scoffs with a sick smile on his face. “You didn’t do anything to me?” He spits. “Of course not, you just came into my house, and fucked my wife, is that it? Hm? Had your fill already?” He taunts, his hair flying wild.

You always loved his hair. His golden, rich dark hair, suggestive of the precious metal, mimics the beauty and luxury of his picture perfect world; compared to you however, your soul hides what’s really behind closed doors.

You shake your head to rid your mind of those thoughts. He’s not shining gold anymore, the secrets in this house are slowly coming to light. He resembles something that seems kind, but hurts you when you actually expect it, when you know it can hurt you. Like the sun.

“We didn’t do anythin’ to your wife.” Simon defends. He steps forward so he’s now side by side next to Johnny, the kitchen looking too small for them. “We just came here to deliver the meat she ordered, is all.”

“Oh really?” James says. He shoves an accusing finger in Simons shoulder.

He’s going to hurt them. He’s going to hurt them and you’re just standing there.

Like the pliant little housewife he made you to be.

What are you doing just standing there?

When you let the heavy coat drop from your arms onto the floor and you take a singular step in their direction, you can feel the glass digging deeper into your skin.

Every step is a reminder.

As you near your husband, you shudder. His wrath is like a toxic air that’s slowly killing you from the inside out. Taking and taking until there’s nothing left of you to take.

You reach your James, scared to meet the questioning gazes of Johnny and Simon, and reach a trembling hand to touch his shoulder. “James—”

He whips his body around to face you. You can see, feel, his anger as it burns everything it touches. Hungry for more. He grabs your outstretched hand and squeezes. Ignoring the whimpers of pain that fall from your lips and the tears that blur your vision and fall down to meet at your chin.

“You.” He says it with so much, loathe dripping from his voice, painting his lips, his chin, neck, black with anger.

“You fucking whore, playing around with these, little boys, getting their dicks wet while I slave away at work and provide for you?”

His face is too close. So close, you can smell the stink of alcohol on his breath, recoil as you feel the spit flying out of his mouth land on your face. You feel your tears falling fatter and faster as you see the hickeys and lipstick prints on his neck.

“You let go of ‘er—”

Your free hand feels like lead as you raise it to bring it down with such force it leaves a red mark on his face the moment your skin touches his, his face forced to the side, facing the wall.

You feel your soul getting doused in gasoline and set on fire.

You see James’s body turning rigid and stiff as his face turns a canvas of anger.

You blink away your tears.

He stiffens as if he endures the horrors you have to watch him do at night. He stiffens as if his body is constantly being clawed, dragged, down by hands that burn. He stiffens as if he has glass stuck in the soles of his feet, spilling his blood onto the floor and staining the wood, the walls, you. You, you, you.

He turns his head back to its original position to at you, but he’s stopped. Stopped by a scared hand deep his hair wrenching back so his body topples to the floor with a reverberating thud. You almost fall with him with his tight grip on your wrist, but you feel Johnny’s hand pluck yours out of his and cradle it, cradle you, to his chest.

But you can’t focus. You see your vision blurring and a ringing, your soul screaming, in your ears is blocking out the noise of Simon’s fists connecting with James’s face.

You watch with horror gleaming in your eyes as you see your husband’s face and body grow more and more unrecognizable by the second.

Why are you just standing there?

“Get—” Simon’s fist interrupts his slurred cries. “—th’ fuck off ‘f me you d’rty bast’rd . . .”

Your husband is getting beaten, and you’re standing in the arms of another? A stranger?

Simon’s eyes. They’re burnt a charcoal black and only seemed to be getting darker by each blow he landed on your husband’s face. It scares you to no end.

“You stain your wife’s skin with that mouth?” A sharp sound, a slap echos throughout the room. Right where your hand hit his face. Right where your hand can be seen on his face as a bright red gone darker by Simon’s force.

Your eyes catch a gleam in the light, a gleam of something sharp, of something used to kill.

A pocket knife.

James struggles to fully pull it out of his pocket but when he does, he grips it with a shaking hand and stabs blindly at Simon’s arm.

You suck in a breath and can only watch as silence consumes the room with Johnnys arms tightening around you.

He didn’t even flinch as the knife was forced into his skin, didn’t even react as he gripped the handle and yanked the knife out of his arm, his blood following the knife like a lost dog before splattering on the ground like abstract art.

Noises of pain and fear escape the opened mouth of your husband, noises that you’ve never heard him make. Only noises of power and rage.

Simon rises to his full height and takes a handful of James’s hair, dragging him up with him add dropping the knife on the floor

“Simon—” You beg, but it’s too late. With the grip Simon has on James’s hair, he pulls his arm back and swings it, swings James, towards the kitchen counter at full force.

His head ricochets off of the counter and he lands back on the floor, right in front of your shaking form.

He lays there sideways and still as the long gash running straight across his forehead leaks blood onto his clothes and floor at a rapid pace. You stare at it as the blood slowly runs towards you.

You’re staring at your husband’s bleeding body.

Simon grabs James’s pant leg, pants that you bought for him, and yanks his body towards him to resume what he hadn’t finished.

When the blows continue, you find yourself wincing at each one, unconsciously sinking deeper into Johnny’s warm body.

A man you just met that day is beating the life out of your husband.

You feel like cold water is raining down on your body.

“Stop—” Your cry escapes your lips broken. “stop, please! Simon please—you’re hurting him!”

You try to push Johnny off of you, try to yank your limbs out of his strong grip but that’s just it. His strong grip is like a snake that captured its prey, rolling its body around it and holding onto it until it dies, until it can’t feel anymore, until you can’t breathe anymore.

“Let me go—Johnny let me go!”

He shushes your cries and doesn’t even bat an eye when you turn to bang your fists on his chest and run your nails down his skin. He just cradles your head to his chest right where his heart is so you can hear his heartbeat and be soothed.

But how can you be soothed when—

“Simon.” You hear him say. “That’s enough.”

Like changing tides; Johnny’s voice sweeps into his mind and altered his landscape of emotions. Changing from the beast in a story to a soft bear.

A bear with blood dripping from its mouth.

Simon stops the torture that he inflicted upon your husband and keeps his back turned to you and Johnny as he stands. Blood, James’s blood, dripping from his clenched fists and escaping into the crevices in your tile floor.

He turns at the waist to you and Johnny. You, who’s still struggling to escape his arms, you whose tears are never ending on your damp cheeks, you who’s watching your husband struggle to breathe, blood exiting his mouth in bubbles, popping and splattering the red mess everywhere.

And Johnny, who watched with a satisfied smile growing on his face.

Bells were ringing in your ears, stars were dotting your vision, your hands were shaking, you can’t breathe. “James . .?” You whisper. Your voice coming out so broken that Johnny almost felt sorry.

He still has his arms around you, still feels your beating heart pound against the cage around it, against his chest, still feels the sting of the bruises and scratches you left on him, the latter leaving blood trailing down his arms, dripping and dripping until they bleed into your dress, bleed into you. He still feels, you.

“What . . . No . . . no, no!” Your wail runs deep and escapes raw from your soul. You wail and it breaks Johnny’s heart, breaks it into tiny pieces scattered all around this cruel world you all live in. This world filled with cruel people.

“You killed him! You killed him!” You struggle, and Johnny grunts out curses as you elbow his stomach, slipping in blood and failing to the floor, your dress pooling at your feet, shaking in the blood staining the floor and dying the front of your once blue dress red. You fall right in front of Simon. Right in front of your husband’s still warm body. Still bleeding. Still breathing.

You burn the part of you that feels disappointed in that fact.

“James,” You whisper, cradling his face, his broken face, his face that is broken and bleeding, in your hands. You know it will haunt you for life. “Please, please, wake up. . . wake up . . .”

Blood was everywhere.

Your cries are silent except for the horror filled gasps you let out in between breaths. Your hands shake and you feel as if the coldest of waters were dumped on you. Hoping there would want you up from this dream, this nightmare.

“Why . . ? Why did you do this . . ?”

Your face is drenched in your tears running down your face, some fleeing into your mouth, making you taste your own sweet nectar tears. A nectar that is sticky and leaves a bitter rather than sweet taste in your mouth, a nectar that clings to things that aren’t theirs and never lets go. A nectar like Simon and Johnny.

“He was hurtin’ ye lass,” Johnny says. “We couldnae let ‘im hurt ye like tha’” He walks towards you, the squelch sound coming from his boots walking on blood make you flinch and cover your mouth in terror with your shaking hands, spreading blood, your husband’s blood, all over your tear stained cheeks.

Johnny squats down next to you, his thighs brushing over yours as he watches you. Watches you process that your husband might as well be dead to you, and he’s not coming back no matter how hard you pray.

You feel Johnnys hand, his warm hand, his soft hand, his dry hand, guide your face to lock your eyes with his.

“Ye know we had to do tha’.” He says. His eyes aren’t bright anymore. Now they’re dark waves at night. Luring innocents into its waters and taking, drowning, keeping. “Right, love?”

Your eyes shift back to James’s body in your peripheral, still feeling the cold gaze of the two men on your face.

His eyes are swollen shut; but if they were open, you could imagine they’d be looking at you, piercing you with that gaze you used to love so much, The gaze you find yourself missing; back when things were good, not burnt and soaked in blood.

His skin is pale. It turns as white as the pure clouds that once blocked the heat of the sun. But now the clouds are dark, they’re dark and they obscure the warmth of the sun to let the cold chill of death sink its claws into the fertile earth.

His chest barely rises with the painful breaths he’s taking.

He’s still alive.

Your shaking eyes peel away from James and they lock with Johnnys’ again.

And you know, with a heavy and pained heart, that he can see the tiny part of you that agrees with him.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your eyes burned and your head is pounding. All you can hear is ringing. Ringing, screaming, crying, all the same to you in this moment.

You hear someone call your name, you feel a wet hand touch your shoulder, you feel something sharp sink into the fragile skin of your neck.

You feel the cold shadow of darkness embrace you.

Your body feels heavy.

Heavy with guilt, fear, and an overwhelming sadness.

Heavy with whatever drug was forced into you.

In your milky haze, your eyes open slightly and the sun burns your eyes even through the thick curtains blocking it.

You think they’re curtains. They could very well be something else; but they move with such a fluidity in them that you can’t think otherwise.

This room you’re in moves as if it’s a vehicle on a bumpy road, your ears pick up the sound of an animal trotting on the rough road.

Someone moves, blocking the shining sun with their body as they move to learn towards you.

“Sh, Bonnie lass.” A voice coos at you, brushing their—his—hand over your temple to gently move the hair that rested there. “Yer alrigh’, we’re gonnae get ye someplace safe.”

When you let out a hoarse moan in protest to his action, another hand, a bigger hand, pets your hair and plants a chaste kiss on your sweating forehead.

You let out a dry cry and try to move your head in another direction, any direction, but the poison burning your veins and warming your skin is making you a limp doll.

Your lips are cracked and your throat is raw. When you try to speak, the sentence gets lost on the way out of your mouth and only one word escapes.

“. . . home . . .”

The soft voice, the first voice, shushes you again, moving your body and placing it sideways in a laying position so your head rests on his lap and your legs dangle on something else. Someone else.

“It’s gonnae be okay hen, don’ worry that pretty head. We’ll get ye home safe with us.”

You last see the curtains move after going over a particular bump in the road, revealing dancing trees and a large sign; though you only see the last part of it before your body succumbs to sleep:

—POPULATION: TWO HUNDRED SEVENTEEN.

In the murky shadows of the dimly illuminated room, wisps of smoke curled and danced around the man seated amidst the gloom like a dragon.

With each inhale, the ember of the cigar flared, casting fleeting glimpses of their features into the obscurity.

The apple of his cheeks, his beard shining auburn, his eyes that reflected an angry sea.

“She sleepin’?” He asks into the shadows. His voice is rough and deep, his words escape him in a cloud of smoke as dark as his eyes.

“Yes. Brought ‘er in an hour or so ago. A ripe peach she is.” The shadow answers, stepping away from the window that covered an entire wall adjacent to the grand desk. The shadow walks the length of the room to stand in front of the desk, he picks up a random trinket from the desk and starts twirling it between his fingers repeatedly.

“And the husband? Tell me the bastards’ gone.”

The smell of smoke and ash covered the room. But nothing could cover the smell of blood coating the shadows fingers, staining the trinket, the knife, in his hand.

“He’ll never hurt her again.”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms !

- likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3 !!

©miwsolovely

TAGLIST.

@the-faceless-bride @chickennn-soupp @starabigail @drenix004 @dogboyfoe @lostintro @tonylagsagne @sobasicallyimpoppee @ahervyn @ghostlythots @flowerloversthings @sugar-brains @midnights-song @poohkie90 @minecraftflowerpots @cand1c @mortallydelicatedinosaur @coffinfae @wiotas @missinghosty @rataaaaail759 @crazy-phan-girl13 @riw3 @dmitriene @coy2u @storxii @uglycoyote @idioticsqu1d @iloveramensm @starluv @darling006 @ivuravix @mitoad @miss-mistinguett @totallynot-mac @tallicaside @imagine-valhalla @deputy-videogamer @ggpayer44 @yellow-paper-duck @sharkient @kaoyamamegami @kariiiel @chaoticla @lovelydays2night @lostintro @tonylagsagne

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 3 days

Text

Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 15: Reclamation

Summary: You helped Astarion complete the Rite of Profane Ascension and become the Vampire Ascendant. You agreed to become his spawn soon after. Once the Netherbrain was defeated, Astarion claimed the Szarr Palace, renaming it the Crimson Palace, for himself and set about his plans of domination.

Word Count: 6.6k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

A maelstrom of emotions dithers over the union you share. He seems unsure of what exactly he should be feeling as it fluctuates between fear, doubt, and bewilderment in a tumultuous outburst. His thoughts are akin to walking on the dark side of the moon - frigid, wilful in their grip on him with an undecipherable sapidity.

“What do you mean?” He shakes his head, eyes bouncing around as his brows pinch, creasing his forehead. His voice is detached and reticent, a masterpiece of regret and dolour. “I wouldn’t do such a thing, surely. Would I? Hells below. Did I?”

“You must have,” you conclude, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. “I don’t remember you doing it, but I can’t hear or remember it.”

Astarion jumps to his feet, nearly pitching you off his lap in haste, but he grabs you at the last minute, dragging you up with him. He pulls his trousers up but leaves them loose as he paces fitfully, muttering and mumbling to himself and wracking his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t understand,” he utters, half to himself and half to you. “I just do not understand. Why would I do such a thing? How long ago did I do this? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

It’s not your fault.

“I think it was before I…” you trail off, squeezing your eyes closed at the memory of Astarion stalking you through the Crimson Palace hallways like a predator, caustic venom spitting from his lips, every word eating away at your soul.

“Left me,” Astarion finishes with a note of despair, like a cold hand laid upon your bare soul. “You can say it.”

You nod sullenly, dropping your head, deject and wayward.

His emotions are flickering through your mind and body like a kaleidoscope of lightning strikes, each blinding flash incomprehensible in its intensity. You focus, but Astarion stops dead as you try to catch and hold them, and the connection is severed.

You are once again empty, a barren midnight sky that’s misplaced the stars and moon. Your eyes snap to Astarion, but the scarlet of his eyes looks hollow with madness as he regards you with the wariness of a wounded animal. He looks at you like he doesn’t know who you are, and it sends a wave of alarm coursing through you, causing your palms to heat.

He retrieves his shirt from the floor, always keeping a close eye on you as if you might pounce. He’s unreadable and cold, the iron countenance of the Vampire Ascendant shrouding him like an icebound veil. Without a word, Astarion darts out of your room, descending the stairs at a whirlwind pace that would be perilous for anyone who wasn’t so agile.

“Astarion?” In confusion, you chase after him without much thought, nearly tumbling down the stairs, and grab his arm. “Where are you going?”

He rips his arm out of your clutches with a bestial snarl. “Don’t touch me!”

“Just wait,” you plead with him, casting Misty Step and blocking his trajectory to the door. You can’t make heads or tails of this shift. “Please. Tell me what’s going on. Let me help.”

“You can’t help me.”

Astarion tries to get around you, but you won’t secede any ground and hold your position with foolish defiance. He grabs your arm, pivots, and thrusts you backward, throwing you to the floor. When you look up at him, those crimson eyes are starting to flick and fade like a star in the throes of death.

“Do not try and stop me again,” he growls, taking stalking steps toward you with a choler tinge in his voice. “Bad, pet.”

Astarion laughs, leans down, and grabs your ankle. He squeezes until the bones are wailing and threatening to break under duress. You whimper, beseeching cries for amnesty, trying to crawl away.

“Master, stop! Please.” You barely recognize the word as it jumps off your tongue in your agony. The haunting palette of bruising is immediately stained on the ghostly white canvas of your skin.

His grip is suddenly snapped away, and he springs back, grabbing his head with a pained groan, shaking it from side to side furiously as he roots himself in place. His breath falters as his eyes meet yours with a hysterical acidity as their claret shifts from deep and warm to shoal and dull as if covered by a thick layer of dust.

“Sorry,” he totters unsteadily on his feet, his lips parting with erratic breaths that make his chest jump aperiodically. His heart beats so hard in his chest that the sound is almost ear-splitting. “Hells. I’m so sorry. I— I— must go.”

Astarion does not even close the door in his urgency, and you’re left naked, clutching your ankle on the floor, staring into the street with your mouth agape. You cast Telekinesis to throw the door closed and limp around the manor, closing the heavy drapes to block the sun.

“Fuck!” You scream at the emptiness surrounding you as you pull yourself up the stairs on your lame ankle.

As you bathe, you allow your body to submerge into the spacious tub. You force yourself to forgo the useless impulse to breathe the air you no longer require and sink. The water’s surface contorts above you like an uneven mirror, twisting and warping reality. Everything is falling apart, and you feel like the sand of a beach being dragged away piece by piece with every crash of another wave upon the shore of your life.

Your heart would be beating recklessly in your chest if you hadn’t been alleviated of life. Colourful promises of love and breaths of forever in a realm of temporary fill your eyes with tears that seep into the water. Time stands still, and your doubt settles and masks your bravery. You’re one step closer to losing him entirely, but you must be fearless. Neither you nor Astarion can afford for you to fall.

Closing your eyes, you run headfirst into memories, searching your soul for all the places that feel like home.

The thudding of boots, the drip of rain that sneaks through the fissures in the bricks, the skittering and squeaking of vermin — everything echos off the stone in Moonrise. The fire throws foreboding, eerie shadows in slinking shapes across your tent that make you uneasy. No one wanted to camp here for the night, with the Absolute Cultists only floors below, but it had been a long journey through the Shadowlands, and the hungry shade had sapped everyone’s strength.

You flop restlessly on the furs in your tent, unable to trance. You had been counting the cultists inhabiting this wretched place as you made your rounds, trying to familiarize yourself with the layout. The omen of the arduous battle hangs over you, and you’re trying to devise some semblance of a plan to wipe them out in stages. You were never a very strategic planner. Typically, showing up and raining fire, violence, and death have worked for most of your life. Even with the help of the Harpers, one mistake could spell disaster.

Your ears twitch as you hear the rumbling murmurs bounce off the walls, and you’re out of your tent in a blink with fire ablaze in your palm, fearing the cultists have figured out that you don’t fit within their ranks. Taking a lap around, you take a quick headcount, checking your friends off one by one until you hear a soft, breathy whimpering.

Astarion…

Crouching by his tent, you whisper his name, but he does not answer. You recognize a nightmare when you hear one, and your hurt lurches in your chest, fingers hovering just over the door of his tent, but you don’t open it. Your proximity is usually enough to calm him without waking him, and this time seems no different. The trashing has stopped, and his muttering has ceased.

You sigh, relieved, and lay down at the door, curling up on the hard stone. You will rest here tonight if it means you can bring him even a scrap of peaceful rest.

“Darling,” Astarion purrs in a rugged timbre, heavy under the weight of drowsiness. “Whatever are you doing?”

You smile and flop over to peer into the hypnotic, heavily-lidded eyes. Astarion yawns, fangs peeking from his lips, and grins back at you.

“You were having a nightmare,” you whisper, making sure to keep your voice down so it doesn’t wake the others. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep. I’ll stay here tonight.”

“You were going to sleep out here on the stone?” He cocks his head, quirking a brow at you. “Why?”

“It seemed to comfort you,” you shrug.

"I meant, why would you sleep out here when there's a perfectly good bedroll in my tent with me?”

“Oh,” you say, sitting upright with a jolt. “That’s okay, Astarion. Really. I’m perfectly fine out here.”

“Get in here, weirdo," Astarion giggles, grabbing your arm and giving it a gentle tug.

You hesitate, but he tows you harder, and eventually, you relent and crawl into his tent. You sit in the corner, trying to make yourself small, wrapping your arms around your knees.

Astarion huffs exasperatedly, “You do realize that we’ve had sex, yes? You were hardly shy during our little late-night expeditions.”

“I’m not shy, not with you,” you giggle but avidly watch how Astarion’s jaw clenches, fingers tangling into the furs. “You’re hungry. I can see it. I can’t imagine it’s comfortable to be so close to a food source in a confined space.”

“I’ll admit, it’s not easy when you’re so very delicious with that lovely neck, begging to be tasted,” he grins, an artificial smile meant to put you at ease. Astarion notices that he cannot fool you, and his fingers rifle through his hair. “I’m fine. Truly. You’re not in any danger around me. I can control my hunger.”

“Danger? Oh, Gods! No, Astarion.” You shake your head at him, offering your hand, and he takes it. His thumb sways softly over the back, “I’m not afraid you’ll hurt me. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable. When’s the last time you fed?”

“Oh, I don’t know, darling. There was that cultist I made a snack of a couple of days ago. You needn’t concern yourself with it. I’ve gone much, much longer without a meal.”

There’s a bleakness shading the sculpted angles of his face that makes your heart palpate with empathy. You don’t have to ask for confirmation. Cazador obviously starved him as some form of punishment. It makes your palms heat in reflex as you seethe. You don’t care what it takes. You are going to kill the motherfucker who dared torture this man that’s stolen your heart.

“Astarion, whenever you’re hungry, I’m happy to offer my neck. All you have to do is ask.”

“That’s very… sweet, but the very shadows of this place are hungry.” Astarion sighs, wrapping his arms around his waist to smother his hunger pains. He smiles, “As much as I would absolutely love to take you here and now, you need your strength. We have many battles ahead.”

“Don’t be dumb," you tut, moving your hair away from your neck. “I need you strong. I am capable of deciding this for myself. I don’t need you to do it for me.”

“Dumb? Darling! You wound me.” He theatrically scoffs, hand to his forehead, falling back as if you slapped him, with a shallow chuckle, “I have received many slights in my life - Insufferable, insolent, insignificant, but this might be the first time I have been accused of being dumb.”

“Well, they say there’s a first time for everything,” you smirk, levity uplifting the lilt of your baritone. “Consider this your first.”

“You are racking up quite the catalogue of firsts,” he chuckles, shaking his head, propping himself up on his elbows. “Are you sure? I am truly of sound mind. No one is in any danger.”

You crawl toward him, heart rate accelerating with every forward movement of your hands and knees, “Will you please shut up and bite me already? Before I berate you for believing I think you’re a danger.”

Astarion’s hand wraps around your arm, persuading you closer with pressure, but he does not so much as glance at your exposed neck. He’s fixed on your eyes as if he’s found heaven hidden within them.

“Then allow us to dine together,” he nods slowly, eyes still moored to yours as he sits upright, prompts you to turn, and holds your back steady against his chest. He kisses under your earlobe and hints his lips down the column of your neck until he settles on that rhythmically pumping vein. He kisses it, long and lingering, and groans, “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you sigh, barely able to contain your body’s excitement as it trembles in his arms.

His fangs puncture your skin like icicles, impaling the soft flesh, but it ebbs and dulls to a paradisical strumming before your mind has time to react and withdraw. For a vampire that has not fed on thinking creatures much, he’s remarkably gentle and has only become more tender since you started these little meals. He draws from you in unhurried pulls, tallied and modulated as he listens, and his palm splays across your chest over your heart to determine its pace in case he does not hear it accurately.

You feel your ethos skimming through his veins, warming his skin, flushing the tips of his ears, an antidote to his pain. You sigh mellowly, and your fingers untwist from his trousers, going lax. His arousal hardens against your back as he removes his fangs from your neck, tongue lavishing at the residual weeping wounds with broad, flat strokes and moaning a chilled breath over the shell of your ear.

Astarion turns your head toward him, catching your lips in a blistering kiss tinged with the coppery piquancy of your blood. His hips buck into you with a growl, and his hand veers toward your aching clit. You stop him short, grabbing his hand with a shudder.

“What are you doing?” You breathe against the needy, silken embrace of his mouth.

“You’ve been ever so generous,” he purrs. “Allow me to repay your charity in a language I speak proficiently.”

“No,” you break away from the kiss and his arms. Your head swims, bloodless and faint. Your heart hammers, trying to pump the blood no longer within your veins. You sway on your knees, and Astarion supports you with a hand on your shoulder lest you faceplant, “This isn’t a tit-for-tat offer, Astarion. There is no repayment. I am just one friend assisting another. That’s all.”

“I— You don’t want me?”

His genuine confusion encases your heart in a boiling bubble of sorrow, “You know I do, but not like this. I don’t want you if it’s compensation for my blood.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the only thing I know,” he looks bashful. If you didn’t know better, you would say he’s blushing, but that must be the rush of your blood through his veins. “Would you at least rest with me tonight while you're woozy? I will hear if anything untoward happens in camp, and I can protect both of us if need be.” He puts his hands up innocently, “I will keep my hands to myself. You have my word.”

“Do you think--" you trail off, bringing your hand to your forehead that seems to beat in time with your angry heart and groan. “That is to say— Could we —“

“Good Gods, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “Spit it out already before you lose consciousness. I did not take that much.”

Your arms drop by your sides, and you giggle with him, suddenly lethargic, “Never mind. I’ll sleep over here.”

“Now, who is being positively dumb,” he scoffs, clicking his tongue at you. “If you want to cuddle, you have but to ask. You know I do rather like cuddling with you.”

“If you know what I want,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “Why are you making a spectacle out of me?!”

“Entertainment,” he shrugs, laughing carefree and alight with humour.

“You’re terrible,” you mutter.

“I know,” he smirks, lying back and extending his arms, twitching his fingers in the come-hither motion. “Come on, love. Let’s have a cuddle, shall we?”

The bath water has turned cold by the time your eyes slide back open. You’re still lying at the bottom of the tub, in a watery grave like a sunken ship. How long have you been in here? Once your brain recognizes that you haven’t taken a breath in what could be hours, instinct takes over, and you propel yourself upright, coughing, sputtering, and gulping down the air furiously.

You scoff at yourself with antipathy. How long will it take for these responses to abate? When will your body just accept that you’re fucking dead?

Wrapping a plush towel around yourself, you listen for the comforting thud of Astarion’s heart but are only met with tomblike silence. It frightens you, making your stomach feel aflutter in your abdomen, reminding you of the Gur attack when you thought you lost him.

You slip into a long-sleeved, purple dress and tentatively peek outside. The velveteen embrace of twilight has cloaked the sky, but the cloud cover is thick, eclipsing the moonlight. You can smell the rain before the heavens have decided to cry. Reaching out to the bond, Astarion does not answer your call.

Fuck this.

You trot through the street, smelling the air. You wince with every step as the injury to your ankle smarts, but the bruising is already receding. It will not be long until it’s healed.

Unfortunately for you, the streets are still relatively busy, and your bloodlust is ever-present and a daunting task to control as you swerve and juke around people. Your mouth waters, and you shake your head like a wet dog to rid yourself of the smog that dampens and threatens to dwarf your self-restraint. The rain starts to drizzle, just as you predicted. The drops plane down your face, and you curse the skies because the scent of the rainfall on the dry stone of the street hampers your ability to detect much else.

You arrive at Wyrm's Crossing and follow the strong scent of blood outside a structure you are familiar with - the flophouse where Astarion's siblings were. The building is ominously dark and far too quiet. You sniff the air. It tastes almost bitter on your tongue, and it’s hard to focus on anything but the metallic richness, but you vaguely make out notes of rosemary and bergamot. You try to open the door, but it’s locked. Locks are hardly a challenge. You cast Knock and crack the door open. The fragrance of blood wafts so thickly in the air that you swear you almost see technicolour as you swoon.

It’s pitch-black inside, and your feet immediately come into contact with a stiff, cold mass on the floor, tripping you. Fire bursts to life in your palm, and mutilated bodies greet the illumination with milky eyes. Some have their intestines spilling out of their abdomens like gooey red ribbons. Others are missing the bottom of their jaw with their meaty tongues lolling out. These people were not just merely killed. They were brutalized, mutilated, and mauled.

A thick slick of congealing blood sloshes around your boots. It drips off the ceiling and down the walls like scarlet raindrops shed from dark skies, softly signifying sorrow's sharp sting. If your heart had not already hardened to macabre scenes like this, you imagine you would be sick. Instead, true to the monster you’ve become, it takes considerable effort not to drop to your knees and start lapping up the sanguine nectar like some thirsty mutt.

You are veritably shaking under the duress of temptation as you crawl over bodies to the one heartbeat that remains. Astarion sits at a table in an alcove in the back with a bottle of spirits clutched in his hand, several more littered around his feet on the floor. He stares abstractly at nothing, a million miles away, bleak and cold.

“Astarion…” you whisper, trying to get a decent look into his eyes.

“Darling?” His brows round when he looks at you, frowning and narrowing his glossy eyes. “You are afraid. Oh, no-no. Don’t be afraid. I didn’t mean to…” He’s confused, and it breaks your heart. “I killed them all, but I don’t remember. I am me now. I’m me - Astarion.”

“I know,” you purr, noticing that he seems to have to remind himself of who he is. “It’s okay.”

“Okay?” He scoffs, bringing the bottle to his lips and tilting his head back. He sways in his chair, causing it to creak, “This is about as far from okay as it gets. Did you not hear me? I killed them. I killed all of them.”

“I heard you,” you cradle his cheek and walk his gaze away from the body he seems fixed on. “We need to go home, Astarion. Before somebody finds us here.”

“Why?” He snaps, gesturing around with a satirical chuckle, “I will probably just kill them too. Or perhaps I will simply compel them to forget their names or their entire lives. Why stop there? How far do you think my power goes? Do you think I could compel them to forget how to breathe?”

“Astarion, please,” you slip the bottle from his fingers and crouch with your hand on his thigh. “Come with me.”

“I hurt you again today,” he sighs, staring at his empty hand with furrowed brows. “How do you sleep with me in the same residence? The same bed? How can you even stand to look at me? Gods. You must fucking hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you cannot help the tears pricking your eyes. He looks lost as his eyes roam aimlessly, climbing toward the ceiling. “I love you.”

“You love me… Do you regret it?” He whispers, curling his empty hand into a fist repeatedly as if he’s unsure if the hand he’s looking at belongs to him, “Helping me complete the Rite, allowing me to turn you, falling in love with me.”

“No,” your answer is immediate, and the uncompromising intonation surprises even you. “The only thing I regret is that we did not know enough about the Rite.”

“You’re lying,” he concludes, hollow, distant, and abject.

“Open the bond and check my truthfulness if you wish,” you retort. Your whole body shakes as you try to make sense of this broken man before you, “I wanted to be with you for eternity. Everything has a cost. I paid it willingly.”

“Do you know why I turned you?” He asks, face contorting with an anguish you did not believe you would ever see adorn his features again. The corners of his mouth are downturned, eyebrows dropping at the ends, “Do you know why I was so adamant that this was the only way our relationship could continue?”

“I don’t know, Astarion,” you sigh soft and sullen. “I don’t care. What’s done is done.”

“Tell me!” He snarls, slamming his fist into the table and cracking it down the middle, “Tell me why you think I did it! Tell me why you think I fucking killed you!”

You finally relent and sob openly. “Why do you do anything now, Astarion? You wanted to possess me, control me, own me, and make me your obedient puppet.”

“No, my love,” he heaves a tremulous sigh, shaking his head. His eyes are vacant and unseeing, blinking slowly. “Nothing so sinister as that. I was afraid. I was still fucking afraid. I knew you would age and die while I remained the same forever. You would leave me alone again, and I feared a world, a life, without you. I took your life and bound you to me for eternity for no other reason than selfishness, but I always was remarkably selfish. Wasn’t I?” Astarion gazes around at the grisly affair of his making, “Why can’t I remember? I am sick. Aren’t I?”

“We will save you,” you slip your finger under his chin like he’s done to you so often and direct his gaze to yours. Your eyes blister with resolve, and your voice bleeds the same, trying to fill him with strength, “But I need you to keep fighting, Astarion. You must not give up.”

“For you,” he murmurs as his eyes finally appear cognizant. Astarion slides out of his chair, descending to his knees before you like you made you do a lifetime ago, and wraps his arms around you. He presses his cheek against your stomach and whimpers, fingers curling into your clothes. “I will fight to my last, my love.”

Sunlight filters into the window, golden rays bathing the room as your eyes flutter open. You nuzzle against the silk pillowcase before your mind bombards you with memories of your skin loosening, dripping, cracking, and the agony that arrested even screams from your throat. You nearly leap off the bed in terror, but solid arms wrap around your waist, pulling your back against the strong muscles of a warm chest.

“It’s okay,” Astarion purrs, grappling with your trashing. He places a soft kiss on your shoulder. “I am here. The sun cannot harm you. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

It takes your still hazy consciousness a moment to accept the promise of safety before you relax in his embrace with a sigh and roll over to face Astarion, looping your arms around him and burying your face in the crook of his neck. You can smell his blood pumping through his veins just below the surface of that pristine, silken skin, and your mouth waters. Your body urges you to bite, stomach knotting into cramps with the promise of that aromatic, richly decadent blood.

So close.

Before you know what you’re doing, your mouth is open, fangs hovering, and your body seizes. Astarion laughs genuinely, such a sparkling, airy rumble from his perfect lips as they pull into a smile against your cheek.

“Well, good morning to you, too.” He giggles, pushing you away, shaking his head with that playful glower, “Can’t get enough? I’m not surprised.” Astarion sinks his fangs into the fanning veins of his wrist and holds it out to you. “Remember, no biting and mind your teeth.”

You’re almost drooling at the oneiric vision of the weeping wounds. The scent of his blood is intoxicating - warm, full-bodied ferrous. The bright red drink of the Gods is a stark contrast to his pale skin, and it takes everything you have in you not to lunge for it. The offer of his blood is new and a little unsettling if you’re being honest.

“Go ahead,” his eyes dart to his dribbling wrist, brows furrowing at your hesitation. “This is no trick. Feed.”

He looks contrite, but there is a new tenderness in the way his eyes are fixed on you like you are shelter from the storm brewing behind his scarlet irises. You cannot handle it any longer. You take his wrist as gently as your fumbling fingers can possibly manage in your near frenzied bloodlust, bringing your lips to the wound. It tastes even better straight from his body, and your eyes roll back with a moan as you focus with a substantial amount of effort on drawing in slow, measured sips instead of trying to drain him dry in an instant.

“That’s enough,” Astarion instructs eventually, tugging his wrist just slightly. You could never get enough of this ambrosia on your tongue, descending into your stomach and making your nerves combust with delight. Your grip tightens on his wrist, and you growl at him, low and throaty.

“Hells,” Astarion groans pleasurably, eyes rolling back. His body trembles with excitement and pleasure. He enjoys this as much as you. He shakes his arm roughly and commands a little more harshly this time. “Love. I said that’s enough. Don’t be a greedy thing now.”

It’s enough to crack the haze that’s fallen over your mind, and you throw yourself from back, detaching from his wrist with panicked breaths. You’re sure when you look at him again, you will be staring at the embodiment of Mephistopheles psychosis, “I’m sorry, Astarion. I’m sorry.”

“Hey-hey,” Astarion coos deeply, like a warm auditory hug on a cold winter’s night. “It’s alright. I’m not angry.”

“You’re not?” You cannot help the stain of surprise that blooms in your voice.

“No, love,” he chuckles, his fingers pressing into your waist, encouraging you to cuddle, and you curl up against his side. He sweeps his thumb across your lower lip, gathering the blood smeared on it and pops it into his mouth with a sly grin. “I was a young vampire too, once upon a century, and I was certainly over-enthusiastic with my consumption of you the first time. It takes time. I can help you with it. We can practice like this.”

Your brows furrow, creasing as you try to think through the residual film of mist. This man is entirely too perplexing. It feels like you’re always trying to run from him, convincing yourself that everything is a trick, that you must be on guard at all times so you don’t get close, but is this just a way for you to hide from what you fear most of all - that you will be unable to save him, and you will lose him all over again.

There’s just no fucking time for this anymore. There is no more time to lose.

Astarion directs your gaze to him, “What’s going on in that beautiful mind?”

“Do you remember what you said last night?”

Astarion’s brows round, and the corners of his eyes crinkle, “Yes.”

“Was any of it real?” You murmur, pushing yourself upright so you can look at him. You request the bond, and Astarion and you unite, transcending time and space, melding together. It takes you a moment to gather yourself, “Or were you just drunk?”

“I meant every word.” Astarion turns suddenly serious, sitting and sagging against the headboard, “I wish to speak to you about something.”

“Are you okay?”

“I am fine.” He combs his fingers through his hair, “You called me Master. I do not wish you to call me that - think of me in those terms. Is that how you see me? As your… ugh,” he casts his eyes to the ceiling, “Master ?”

“No,” you snap, but it’s a lie, and you know it, which means he knows it through the union. You backpedal, “Yes. It is what you are, Astarion. Whether you or I like it, I am your spawn, and you are my master. This is just reality. It will do us no good to pretend that the dynamic of our relationship is different.”

Disappointment slashes across the bond like a blade cutting into your heart. It’s so strong that it physically aches in your chest, and you splay your hand across it and whimper.

Astarion shakes his head, eyes downcast, “I do not want to be your master, little love. I never did. I did not make you a regular spawn.”

“I’m not sure I follow, Astarion. What do you mean you didn’t make me a regular spawn? What other kind of spawn is there?”

Astarion squeezes his eyes shut momentarily, taking a deep breath, the muscles in his jaw twitching. He leans, opens a drawer and produces a book that looks ancient. Its cover is dulled by timeless centuries, and its spine is broken with loose pages precariously tucked in. His fingers tap the book, staring at it as if he dreads what he’s about to do.

He gives you a skeptical sideways look and passes you the book, “Page 152.”

Opening the book, you flip through the musty, yellowed pages until you reach page 152, titled “The Dark Kiss.” You scan the page, reading it once, twice, three times while Astarion stares at you with an unreadable expression. You can feel him in your head, looking through your eyes, thrusting into the folds of your mind, penetrating the softness of your soul, caressing your most intimate thoughts.

There’s trepidation in him. Your soul practically quivers under the weight of his unease. He is afraid of your reaction, and the entity within him is stoking those glowing embers of worry with its babbling breaths of affirmations, trying to ignite an inferno of fear that will melt through the shackles of his control.

“You need to explain this to me, Astarion,” you gawk at him, swallowing thickly as the information slowly sinks in. You’re unsure if the nervousness making your stomach warp is truly yours or his.

“I made you my bride – consort,” he does not look at you when he speaks. His eyes stare blankly at his twitching fingers. “How many times did I bite you that night?”

“Uh,” you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to recall the memory fogged over from blood loss, “Three. Once when we had sex, once on my wrist, and then my neck.”

Astarion nods, “I don’t remember much from that night, high as I was on the power of 7000 souls, but I do recall my intent. I bit you three times, as described in the book you’re holding, and then gave you my own blood. I told you this bond was unique to you and me because it’s only shared with a bride.”

“I’m sorry.” You rack your fingers through your hair, tousling it into an incomprehensible mess to match your whirling, tangled thoughts, “Are you trying to tell me that we are - what? Vampire married?”

Astarion smirks at the bewilderment adorning your face but looks bashful, “I suppose that’s an accurate description, yes.”

“And you declined to tell me this until now because?”

“Honestly?” Astarion’s eyes drift once again to the ceiling, “I meant to. I had every intention of telling you the truth, and then... I enjoyed the power, the superiority I had over you. I saw fear in your eyes when you looked at me, and I liked it. I liked you believing you were nothing. I wanted to revel in it. It fed the sickness within, and then I was... lost for a while.”

“What does this mean for me exactly?” It takes incredible effort to keep the rising panic from your voice.

Astarion’s eyes widen as your whirlwind of terror is added to the mixture of emotions between you, “It means you’re not quite a spawn, not quite a True Vampire, but as close as one could get while still being bound to me and under my control should I choose to exert it over you. I believe it can be reversed, should you wish it so. I’d have to do a little research--”

“No!” you blurt out in a yelping retort that makes Astarion flinch. He assumes your anxiety is due to being bound to him in such a way, you realize. The truth of it is your panic is a shadow looming over the increasingly dire odds of everything you stand to lose.

A friend. A lover. A partner. A... husband?

You smirk at the notion, pushing away that worry - you have time to worry later. Right now, you want to enjoy this. It’s the closest you have gotten to Astarion telling you he loves you. Perhaps, the closest you will ever get, and some sad speck of your soul laps at that wound and dabs it with this new information as if it might cure the incurable.

“Well,” you shift into his lap, leaning into the asylum he’s promising you through the bond, “I’m definitely going to start calling you husband now. I hope you’re prepared for that.”

“HA!” Astarion giggles, shaking his head with an endearingly lop-sided grin. His unkempt silver curls fall and bounce carelessly, “But of course. I can deny you nothing, wife. I wish to try and undo what he,” he corrects himself. “…I did - your name. I might be able to reverse it, but I’m not entirely sure how. You need to trust me, and I can feel you do not.”

You’re a little bemused that there is something Astarion doesn’t know how to do, and you grin at him, your fangs peeking out of your lips.

“Good Gods,” he rolls his eyes at you with a heartwarming smirk. “I am all-powerful, not all-knowing. Compelling is instinctive. Releasing it is another story entirely.”

You want to trust him. Gods above, you long to trust him like you used to, but how can you, given what you know? You wrench on the tide of the bond, causing it to spill and break over you as ocean waves crash upon boulders that dare protrude from its surface. You scour the chords of the harmony, picking them apart note by note, feeling for any sign of manipulation, deceit, or ill intent. Astarion flinches, squeezing his eyes shut with a wheeze, but he does not attempt to stop your search. You find nothing, but then again, he is the Vampire Ascendant. If he wants to hide something from you, he will.

If you want to get your name back, you have little choice.

“Do it,” you confirm.

“Look into my eyes,” Astarion purrs in a deep baritone. “Remember, I don’t know exactly what I’m doing.”

Bringing your eyes to his, the crimson in his eyes sparks alive, like little matches aglow in the red sea, and you have never seen sparks quite so beautiful.

The sensation starts mellow, like the flow of a calm spring, as it trickles through your mind. It feels like liquid fingers whispering against your psyche. The sensation makes your skin prickle, and goosebumps erupt all over. You want to shudder, but your body cannot move. Tributaries branch off and stream until your whole brain feels like it is being grasped by a hand.

And that’s where the pain begins in a sudden influx, a steely, jarring stab, and it feels like his fingers are in your brain, parting every crimp, crease, bend and wrinkle like you are a tome to be read. You’re unsure how long you can take this as he picks your mind apart, looking for whatever compulsion does. You manage to let out a whine, and his eyes flick.

“I know it hurts,” he soothes. “Just a little more, I think. Can you hold on?��

You can only whimper your response. You’re not sure if it sounds like a no or a yes. He continues his dismantling forage, ferreting around in your mind. Suddenly, something changes. All those tributaries and calm, flowing springs snap into one spot, and white-hot pain blooms in your eyesight, blinding you. You’re positive he’s cutting a piece of brain matter right out of your skull. You want to writhe, to scream, to beg him to stop, but you cannot.

You wonder if you might pass out, and then you hope you pass out as the pain becomes more than you can bear. Sharp, like a red-hot blade, has punctured your skull, pierced your brain, and is now broiling against your grey matter. Your vision starts to tunnel, black borders encroaching, blurring everything but the glow from Astarion’s eyes.

Just as you think you're going to lose consciousness, a knot untangles, an invisible barrier crumples, and the bondage on your body eases.

“Hey,” Astarion jostles you, fingers brushing sweaty strands of hair behind your ear. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe shakily. “It’s fine. Did it work?”

“I think so?” Astarion rubs the back of his head. “There’s only one way to know for sure. Do you remember your name?”

You think hard, trying to pull it from the deepest recesses of your memories, but you can’t remember it. “No.” You sigh, “Can you say it to me?”

“Illyria?”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. As always, please enjoy ☺️

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

Yay! Tav can hear her name, but does she actually remember it?

I'm leaning into the "Dark Kiss" bride/consort theory because why not?

#ascended astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #astarion x oc #astarion x named tav #fangs and fractured hearts

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