#Cell Counting Market | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grabby-smitten · 7 months ago

Text

Concrete Jungle: King of the beasts

Summary: Buying a hybrid was not what you had in mind when you asked for independence. Sylus didn’t like humans but his owner was the exception.

Subjects: Albino lion Hybrid!Sylus x F!Reader

Word count: 4.1k+

Content Warnings: Hybrid AU, smut, owner reader, kissing, cunnilingus, P in V, breeding, cnc if u squint really hard, biting, textured tongue. Use of words like predator/prey, cunt, pussy, kitten. Not edited and no beta.

A.N: I learned that big cats can’t purr and I was so disappointed. Oh, well….ah! I might do one for each li. k bye 💋

“Are you sure, I need one?” You’ve asked your parents that question for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, a hybrid is a good caretaker and it would make us feel better knowing one is protecting you.” Your father answered with a tired smile, understanding your uneasiness but they weren’t going to change their mind.

Moving out and finally becoming independent was just one step away from happening. Your parents were against it at first. Coming from money means someone will always be after your trail, danger and they had overprotected you, their only daughter since… well, even before you were born. They weren’t able to have natural children so you were conceived through artificial methods. Which, according to your parents, was a whole ordeal and suffering. Details that you rather not know.

It was time, though, to deep your toes into a world of your own. You wanted freedom for once. No dozens of bodyguards, no tracking devices and no fear of the unknown.

The part of convincing your parents was hard. No, after no, after no. Until, the head of security, taking pity on you, suggested buying a hybrid for you. Not just any hybrid; one specially made to protect and serve.

Now it was your turn to profoundly refuse. Everyone had one and those who didn’t, desired one… like some kind of accessory. It sickened you and besides, you didn’t want another responsibility. You wanted your own life! Not taking care of some… dog? Cat? Fish?

In the end, you had no other choice but to agree and here you were, in some facility. Breeding facility? Training? You didn’t care enough to pay attention, honestly.

Walking behind your parents in an all-white hall, smelling like antiseptic and gagging at the chemical sensation in your throat, you started to notice how the white walls began to turn into cages. Placards hung in the walls near the tinted glass and steel bars of the cages with descriptions of the… hybrids?

Looking up from the labels, you finally realized you no longer were alone. Each cell was occupied by humanoid-shaped shadows. The tint of the reinforced glass obstructed your vision but it was clear they were there.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize a couple of strangers had joined your family. Paying a bit more attention to their chatter, you concluded they were doctors or scientists from this facility. They were explaining something about their products and that it was the best the market could offer. You frowned at their words. It was like you were buying a car… they even explained the insurance policy.

“And this specimen, right here, is our finest hybrid!” One of the men talking to your parents loudly explained.

You stepped closer to the placard and read the few words it contained. ‘Albino Lion Hybrid (Panthera leo Hybrid, large cat family Felidae). Apex predator (no natural enemy known). Renowned king of the beasts. More active at night. Preferable habitats: grassland, dense scrub, savanna, and open woodland. Nomadic male.’

Your eyes widened once your brain processed the information. This was no guard dog or house cat. Before you could utter a complaint about how obnoxious this all was, the tinted glass cleared and you were looking straight into a pair of scarlet eyes.

Sylus almost laughed at the face of the female standing outside his cell. The little mouse seemed in shock to see him there. What was she expecting? Where else would he be? If not caged and on display here— absurd, he thought. All humans that came here, came for one thing and one thing only; to purchase a wild species, a unique breed to flaunt to their peers. Sylus continuously thought about how weird these humans behaved in society. Their hierarchy dynamics were messed up and he despised that.

You felt his eyes mocking you, such deep red and the only thing you could feel was irritation. Frowning, you turned your head and left him. See how he likes grouching on his own.

Once you were a few steps away, the scientists or doctors stared at the red-eyed big cat hybrid with wonder and… respect? This place was bonkers, you thought to yourself.

“So this is the one?” Your mother asked and marveled at the sight of the lion hybrid. White-silver hair, large, powerful presence, and sharp features.

“Yes, ma’am. Our best subject. Well trained in all the aspects you requested and fairly knowledgeable which is hard to come by with these beats.”

Hearing all that gave you stomach reflux, the acidity burning your esophagus. Your dam was about to break and all your pent-up feelings would end up costing you your freedom if it wasn’t for the red-eyed hybrid. He knocked on the glass and you jumped, startled. You were surprised, he even beckoned you with a finger and again, surprised now with yourself, you automatically obeyed.

It was like a trance. A hypnotic daze of sorts. Both met face to face once again, only separated by the reinforced glass. For a moment you were distracted, the outburst you were about to have laid dormant in the back of your head.

What is this…? Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. That’s why he was so close to the glass earlier too. He couldn’t see the other side a while ago but something was pulling him there. The whole day he felt restless and on guard as if something resonated within him.

Could this be—

“Ah! Marvelous! Look! They are already interested in each other! Sylus is not showing any signs of hostility or repulsion…” a different scientist exclaimed with eagerness, interrupting whatever connection you had with Sylus at that moment.

Not many words were needed to convince your parents after that show you and Sylus put up. Papers were signed, money transferred and a very confused Sylus was sedated and prepared for shipment.

The big city. Polluted air, noisy streets twenty-four hours a day, and hybrids everywhere. Most people carried one; a human with some animal characteristics, and now you were one of them too. Sylus was scheduled to arrive in a few minutes. All the things you would need to care for him were already in your apartment and even his paperwork. Name, birth, permits and you; listed as his owner.

The melodic tune of your ring bell announced the dreaded moment. You knew Sylus would be escorted here and that most of the traveling time he would have been sedated, but still the long distance between your new home and the facility he was kept in was almost six hours away. You feared a big grumpy cat.

Oh boy… grumpy was an understatement. He didn’t look happy. The moment he stepped foot in and all the straps holding him were taken off, he waited for the delivery people to disappear and he pounced. Surprisingly not on you. He went through all your stuff. According to the guide you received he was scenting. He went through your whole house; rubbing, scratching and overall making a mess.

“Stop! Hey, hmm… Sylus? You don’t have to scent my clothes.” You tried talking to him but he was not interested in your opinion, apparently. He just glanced at you and kept doing whatever he was doing before, like you were the one, not understanding. You had to snatch your underwear from his closed fist in a panic.

He went nonverbal for a week. A week! You were going insane. Yes, he obeyed. Yes, he was extremely independent and didn’t cause any more commotion besides the panty situation on the first day. But God… he was extremely quiet. It wasn’t until you commanded him to that you realized you should have read the manual until the last page; not only the summary.

“Sylus! Say something!” You demanded; going insane was not in your plans for the foreseeable future. They never told you he was mute or anything of that nature.

“Is there anything you need from me, my lady?” His deep and slow voice had your heart leaping out from your chest.

You just stood there, gaping and looking at him like you couldn’t believe he was able to make a sound. Yeah, not even his steps produced sounds. Sylus examined his human with a gleam of humor in his sapphire eyes. This face was a common one for her and he found it… almost endearing. It reminded him of the first time you two met.

“You can talk…” you whispered low and saw how his fluffy round, and white ears twitched. “You can talk!” Again, you exclaimed, pointing a finger at him in disbelief. “Why haven’t you said anything before?!”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” he calmly explained. That mischievous twinkle in his eyes never left, “my owner never requested me to do so until now.”

And that’s how you spend almost three days reading the darn manuals with a now very talkative feline.

You found that Sylus was more than just a pet. He could cook, clean and even force you to exercise which ended up backfiring. You couldn’t keep up with his supposedly healthy routine. A healthy lifestyle means a happy owner, and you would curse under your breath every time he repeated it.

In general, you were happy, he seemed happy and living with him was easier than you thought. Quickly, you two began to build a bond and it was a matter of time before he began to realize why it had been so easy to adapt to this human. His human which is how he referred to you.

Following the manual, you always made sure to have everything Sylus would need. Even his heats. At first, you tried to get him a heat partner and it was a mess. More like you were a mess. Even Sylus was surprised at how you ended up kicking out the poor rental gazelle hybrid in less than five minutes. You didn’t understand what took over you to be so… overprotective.

Oh, but Sylus was not complaining. Watching you almost declare war in his name gave him a deep satisfaction. So much so that he accepted to take suppressants for the time being.

After that incident, things began to change drastically. Sylus in return became a bit more aggressive towards any living creature that was in less than a mile radius of you. Growling, pushing, and even wrapping you with his tail and pulling you towards his body anytime he felt you were in danger. Yeah, you were in so much danger from the tube man… that air dancing balloon from the car wash a couple of blocks away.

“It can be that bad…” you took hold of his arm around your waist in a reassuring manner.

He’s been walking with you in his hold since you crossed paths with the inflatable dancing man.

“It has erratic movements. You never know what he might do next.”

Yeah, it was a recurring situation.

Yeah, he was prepared for everything and anything. Well, except one morning when his nose woke him up.

A sweet intoxicating scent traveled through his nostrils and shook him awake. He felt his mouth water, his canines aching, and his eyes turning into thin lines. The predator in him had been disturbed and its awakening meant trouble.

In all his years in captivity, he had never felt such hunger. Something was clawing in his chest, desperate to come out, each intake of air was pulling his sanity deeper and deeper while the monster surfaced.

Like any good hunter, he let his nose guide him through the house. Following such an intoxicating aroma took him to your door. There he stood—elaborated breathing, sharp fingers encrusted on his palms searching for restrain. You were inside; sleeping soundly in the early hours of the morning. He could hear your soft breathing mixing with his wildly beating heart. Knowing you weren’t aware of the predator outside your door sent a jolt of excitement through his body. Easy prey.

Was it you? Were you the one producing such… inebriant aroma? Why?

He took the handle with a death grip, his rational side fighting against instinct. He felt the urge to hunt, pursue, chase… this… this aroma and make it his own. With an internal battle raging inside him, Sylus felt the door weighed heavy on his palm, the handle burned, but he still stepped in.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, it made no difference to him that you slept in complete darkness; his ruby-red eyes could see just fine. Then, his gaze focused on your sleeping form, little movement from your steady breathing and you had no idea that a hungry predator stood at the foot of your bed.

But Sylus didn’t move, didn’t pounce on you like he wanted. Torn between instinct and duty, he was frozen in place, sweating and overwhelmed with indecision. Your scent was clouding his every sense, making it even more difficult to do the right thing. It was like time had stopped and the only thing on his mind was the palpitations in his groin for even letting his skin touch the hair surrounding you.

What was the right thing? He asked himself. Neck—cracking as his body suddenly shuddered in pain, Sylus was holding himself back by a fine thread.

He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. You were not like his kind who would accept mating just because of a sudden heat. You were human and he had that fact ingrained into his mind. With a whimper of pain and trepidation, Sylus walked over to the side of your bed; every step was excruciating for the hybrid. Once he reached the edge, he did like every other night shared with you. Sylus, silently whining, laid beside you and wrapped his arms tightly, but this time he kept a generous distance between his hips and your back.

He was not a mindless beast. Not to you.

“Sylus… I can’t breathe…” you don’t know when, you don’t know how, but Sylus always ended up sleeping on top of you like a weighted blanket. “Sylus!”

“You don’t wanna know what I did to the last person who woke me up.” Each word came with a little slur at the end, he was barely waking up. No a second goes by and you felt his spiked tongue grooming the nape of your neck and soft growls shaking your whole body.

“Someone’s happy today, hmmm?” You asked in a short breath, reaching for his round and fluffy ear. As you scratched, you heard the deep grumbles of satisfaction increasing.

“Smells good…”

You felt him sniffing all over your chest, deeply inhaling, moving his head downwards. Sylus pulled your covers in a hasty manner and kept descending. Your eyes widened as you realized where he was going and your feet quickly stopped him; placing them on his shoulder and chest.

“Sy-Sylus! S-stop!” Your hands joined your legs and feet, placing your palms on his mouth and the rest of his face. “What do you—“

You stopped mid question as you felt a bit of moisture in between your legs. In a panic, your mind counted the weeks since you moved in and you have forgotten to make an appointment for your birth control replacement… which meant you must be ovulating. How could you forget? It’s been weeks! With everything happening after moving, getting Sylus and adapting to the new city. You had completely forgotten…

A muffled sound came from behind your palm and then a rough tongue pushed against your skin. You slowly retracted your arm, looking at him with apologetic eyes. It was your fault, after all.

“I was saying that you seem to be in need of assistance,” he uttered, arching an eyebrow at your saddened face.

His heavy body was pressing against the sole of your feet, your legs kept him at bay and it surprised you how… physically insistent he was being.

“What do you mean?” You quickly replied, feigning ignorance and he seemed to know your every trick because his first reaction was to give you one of those salacious smiles of his.

“You can’t exactly lie to my nose, kitten.” He almost growled every word, sending shivers through your body. “You’re fertile.”

Before you could even utter a word to contradict his truth, his hands brushed the back of your raised legs for then his fingers gently tapped your skin. You let out a squeak of surprise and swiftly moved your legs, thus giving him an opportunity to nestle in between your thighs.

“If you’re making fun of me, it’s not funny,” you rebuked, but even as you said that the pressure and sudden ache in your lower regions began to increase with the proximity and weight of Sylus.

“I’m not.” He chuckled and it reverberated down your tummy, sending deep palpitations through your core, “you didn’t read the whole manual yet, now did you?” His finger gently tugged your chin, making you stare right into his crimson orbs.

“No…” you sheepishly mumbled, embarrassed of being found again and your lack of knowledge about some stuff still in the encyclopedia-like book you were given.

“Give me the order and I will deliver, Kitten.” He whispered, eyes calling for your surrender. Sylus was pushing the right buttons by being so close, touching you, and having you cornered right where he wanted you.

“You mean…” voicing your hesitation didn’t deter him from destroying your inhibitions, brick by brick. His eyes were hypnotizing, he would give you anything you wanted and you knew you would be safe, right?

He had you caged between his body and the bed, your mind going a mile per second and your heart racing just as fast. No, he wasn’t moving an inch more and you knew he wouldn’t unless you said so.

“Okay…” you sighed finally removing a burden from your shoulders, “h-help me.” You wanted him to alleviate your aching.

“As you wish, Kitten.”

Not soon had those words left his lips, he was on you. You felt the heaviness of the impact of his lips on you. He had seemed calm while talking but his actions spoke differently. Sylus’ kiss was demanding, fiery even. His tongue took no time to slip in between your abused lips, delivering tentative licks to yours; as if tasting and enjoying you.

He kept his low throaty snarls flowing over your body, crushing you against the sheets. You could taste him too, wild, intense, so Sylus. Two bodies lay in the bed, limbs intertwined. Sylus hands traveled up your body, fingers gripping at anything he could find, your moans being greedily swallowed.

His tail kept a steady thumping behind him, lulling you deeper into his embrace. You would let him do anything, be anything if it meant this fire ignited in your chest would never cease to exist.

Sylus grasped the back of your head, fisting strands of your hair for him to pull back and expose your neck to his aching teeth. He felt euphoria ran through his veins as soon as his pearl whites connected with your tender skin. A growl and the stinging stab on your neck made you gasp, hands gripping his collar to bring him even closer as if that was possible.

In a hurry, his other hand began to tear away your pajamas as his teeth continued to gnaw almost painfully at your throat.

In a blink of an eye, you were lifted and bent. Your face harshly met the warmth of pillows. Gone were your clothes. In what moment exactly? You don’t recall and you didn’t really care at that moment.

“I knew it– fuck– the moment I saw you, I knew it.” Sylus rasped out, breath suddenly hitting your nude backside. “This was mine before you even knew it.”

He suddenly lifted your hips, exposing your dripping core to his crimson gaze. You whimpered as the cold hair hit you, hands gripping the bedsheets, and that’s all you could see. Your own fist and abundant white.

“Sy-Sylus!” You shrieked.

Your exposed pussy was invaded by his mouth, and a low vibrating sound joined. His bumpy tongue lapped eagerly, the texture making you mewl and tremble as you unconsciously tried to pull away. Now the chuffing sound changed to a growl of displeasure, his hands quickly moved to your lower tummy and pressed you back against his awaiting lips.

A mess, a wet and sloppy mess. That’s what Sylus was, still holding your body against his face. He couldn’t care less about anything other than your flavor and sounds overtaking his entire being. He slurped, nipped and spit back in just to repeat it all over again.

It took no time to have you trashing and shaking on his grip, cuming on his face, the chuffing sounds intensifying with your moaning.

Skin on skin, no clothes separating him from you, you didn’t register when he freed his body of them. Too lost to care, too much at once to have a sense of anything other than Sylus.

“You take me so well… My kitten—made for me…” he growled as he slipped every inch of him. Your warm walls protested at the intrusion as he mounted you.

Pinning you down, chest pressed against your back and your face shoved into your drool-stained pillows.

“If you keep struggling, kitten… I– fuck, fuck– you’re making it really hard to hold back” he groaned as his eyes zoomed in on your head trashing and shaking. The predator in him just looming around the corner, his female ready for the taking.

“It’s too big!” Your scream was muffled by the pillow. As your wailing reached his ears, his cock throbbed and released a few ropes of white.

“You’re being so good, kitten. Just a… bit longer…” Sylus sighed with pleasure as the creaminess made it easier to thrust into you. Incessantly, hitting that spongy spot, making you cry out as you felt more burning cum filling you up. Both breathless, both panting and an arrange of noises filled the room.

“I feel so full! Sylus! I can’t!” Tears streamed down your face at how bloated you felt, but he kept pushing and bursting inside you. One after the other; face down you had no other option but to take it.

“Not full enough— you need more…” hips slamming into you, the squelching sound of your insides consuming the silence— him bottoming out again and again. “My cunt… will only have my cubs…”

You’re not sure how long it was, you were in and out. Lost a daze, being shoved, pressed and pounded mercilessly… Sylus voice swirled through your mushy brain— satisfaction, and ecstasy running wild through both of your bodies.

Blinking once, twice. You felt heavy and your foggy vision wasn’t helping. You still felt the aftermath of it all. Legs sporadically spamming, lower tummy so heavy and sore.

“You… came so much…” you whispered in between breaths. His cum was dripping from your tender hole, rapidly pooling on the bed. “Why?”

He shrugged, as he caressed your cheek.

“A lion’s thing,” he mumbled softly, pulling you closer and gently holding you.

The rest of the day you were spent. Too exhausted to do anything else. Sylus bathed you, changed the bedding, brought you drinks and food, and gave you the darn manual to finish it for once.

“Sylus!” You slapped his naked chest with indignation. “Here,” you pointed to an article you highlighted, “it says that lion hybrids can copulate for two to three days? Two hundred times in succession? Are you insane?” That explains a lot.

“I am just waiting for you to rest, humans are more delicate than I thought. We’re not moving from this room.” He deadpanned.

Your expression fell as his eyes seemed to show how serious he was being.

“I read that lionesses bite the male’s ballsack when they are upset or something,” you grinned wickedly. “I will do that if you don’t behave!”

“I wouldn’t oppose, sweetie.” He goaded. Your smile slowly faded as your threat was not working as planned. “So… I see you are feeling more… energetic.”

You threw a pillow at him before he pounced on you.

Ah, yes… a gentle protector a trusted guardian, but a beast on the sheets.

4K notes · View notes

cheol-e-kat · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I love your works! For the bingo list can I request monster with cheol? I loved the mingyu one a lot

Thank you! 🫶🏻

so demon!cheol is maybe a bit different, but i hope you like him - he needs his own long fic tbh

♡ kat

bingo squares: monster

pairing: choi seungcheol x f!reader

genres: monster!seungchoel, demon!seungcheol, magic au, fluff, dark themes (they can both exist)

summary: y/n is stuck with the most useless demon to exist until he suddenly makes himself very useful

word count: 2.9k

warnings: below cut

monster fucking, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cum eating, monster dick, breeding kink if you squint, eggs (iykyk), implied impregnation

having your own demon was largely useless. at least if that demon was seungcheol. his most useful feature was running errands - like picking up milk and cat litter.

but the rest of the time, he mainly spent lounging around your apartment, usually reading whatever books were around. in fact, your book collection seemed to have suspiciously grown of its own accord since you ‘inherited’ him from your grandmother. you weren’t sure where he was getting them from, since half of them were in an italian dialect that your phone couldn’t recognize, but there they were, taking up space, just like seungcheol.

having never really met your family, it had been shocking to have a demon show up and knock on your door, to say the least. in fact, you treated him like you would treat any psycho off the street and slammed the door in his face and locked all the locks.

except, surprise, he could basically walk through walls. which he did whenever it was least convenient, like when you were showering and he had some random deep thoughts to share about a news article (you canceled your new yorker subscription because of him).

or when you were napping, and he wanted to play animal crossing.

or when you were dead asleep and he wanted to play the cat restaurant game on your phone.

he refused to have his own phone. because yours existed, and he only liked the cat game and sometimes wordle when he was “acutely bored.”

you often wondered if killing him had any consequences. especially since you had already tried breaking whatever it was that bound you together, but that apparently involved some ancient-level crap beyond burning sage, so you had given up. but would you be prosecuted for slaying a demonic creature, you wondered, but decided he would probably just show back up, no worse for wear.

not to mention, you had been in a fairly foul mood lately. very snappy with everyone - you scowled at a baby for fuck’s sake. so you decided you needed a little personal reset, and that meant getting the worst excuse for a demon ever, out of your hair, at least for an hour if you were lucky.

your plan was simple - give him an insane amount of errands that required him to roughly hit up every borough of the city. you made a tediously long list of things you needed - you fully knew that besides refusing a cell phone, he refused to use his abilities (whatever those were) to get around the city, not to mention he said he found the subway “enlightening.” you rolled your eyes, making detailed notes of exactly which market he needed to visit for which item.

in all reality - if someone really questioned you, you would have to admit that, despite how obnoxious you often found seungcheol, he was insanely handsome and maybe intimidating - at least based on the way people literally moved out of his way on the sidewalk, which was perhaps his most impressive trait.

but he was also persistently around you and with zero boundaries, which meant you couldn’t just invite someone over for a quick fuck. you needed some time to do it yourself, maybe even a few times. and then you would feel like mary-sunshine again. but you needed him out of the apartment! especially since he had been showing up in your dreams lately, which was really fucking with your mind. his handsome face invading your dreams had to end.

but even as you were making your insane list, you could feel him hovering around you. when you felt his chin rest on your shoulder, you wanted to elbow him in the stomach.

“why do you want mixed olives from there? there are already olives here, and you hate those,” he commented, his husky voice way too close for comfort.

“some recipe i found,” you mumbled.

“but you can’t stand them,” he tried again.

you shrugged, and he only leaned closer, his arms gently encircling you as he read your jumbled handwriting. you were mostly used to this too. he had an infuriating way of getting very close, sometimes without you even noticing. you thought it was solely to annoy, but no, he genuinely didn’t seem to understand why you constantly tried to have space from him - and made up for it by crowding you even more when any opportunity presented itself. it was a losing battle.

you had given up explaining to him how your bed was yours because he insisted on napping there after watching whatever daytime tv show he was suddenly obsessed with - and that was months ago.

but today, he would be out of the apartment. you were making sure of that. no random appearances. just peace and quiet and you and your vibrator doing god’s work.

you finished the list and turned, pressing it to his chest, “if you wouldn’t mind doing the one thing you do for me.”

he watched you for a moment like he was on the verge offering some pithy response, but he just sighed and took the list. and then proceeded to take ages to actually leave. you stood watching him fumble around for who knows what, tapping your foot impatiently because you hadn’t considered that even him leaving could be such a production.

“stop glaring at me,” he called out, “i’m leaving, okay - to run all of your precious errands,” he was annoyed, but at least he was walking out the door. you ran behind him to lock it.

and finally, you could get down to business. you practically ran to your room and dove under the covers. this was a timed thing - you couldn’t waste a second.

you pulled up some very dubious porn, but whatever - it was for the greater good. you didn’t bother taking off your sleep shorts and underwear, just shoving your vibrator down your pants where you needed it most and proceeding as required - lube wasn’t a luxury you could afford in the race to have several uninterrupted orgasms.

but no - no, no, no - you’re brain froze. you had felt the small shift next to you in bed. your eyes went wide, then squeezed shut as you tried to stop everything you set in motion. you were dreaming - this wasn’t real.

but no, it was real - because he spoke. “when you’re finished can i have your phone?” he whispered, he was lying on what you begrudgingly acknowledged was his side of the bed.

how was it that this was the one time you wanted him out of the house, and he basically made everything appear from thin air all because he wanted to play the cat restaurant game. on your phone, which was in your bedroom. with you. playing the kind of porn you would rather die than confess to watching, while you were furiously trying to stimulate your clit.

you froze completely - you were mortified, but also how was this your life, you wondered.

he poked you cheek gently, “y/n? i need to check my tips jar - it maxes out at 40,00 little fish monies.”

“seungcheol, fuck off,” you whispered with every ounce of civility you could muster.

“you’re almost finished - just like a minute or so and then i check my game,” he trailed off.

you thought you might combust, turning to look at him, “I’LL BE FINISHED IN A MINUTE? no! and you know what? no more cat cafe!”

“cat restaurant, actually,” he corrected, smiling - dimples on full display.

“i don’t fucking care! no more cat-based food games on my phone, i’m deleting them and your games account!”

“noooo,” he whined, as you navigated to the games hub - he was suddenly straddling you and fighting for your phone - he could pry it from your semi-warm dead hand as far as you were concerned.

you wrestled back and forth until he finally had you trapped under him using what felt like more than his body weight.

“don’t you dare delete my account,” you were surprised to see his eyes were a glowing deep blue instead of their normal dark-coffee brown, “do you know how many ads i’ve sat through to expand my cat empire, y/n - i finally have the little spa area open,” he sounded so serious and simultaneously so ridiculous.

you glared at him, trying to focus all your rage on him for ruining your afternoon of solo sex.

he stared at you for a moment, swallowing hard - “look what if i help you with your endeavor, and then you won’t need to do anything permanent,” he offered, his eyes drifting towards your phone, which only made you tighten your grip on it.

“helping me with my problem would be you disappearing forever,” your voice was more acidic than you meant it to be.

he immediately pouted, “look, it’s a genuine offer, okay - i do have experience,” he stared at you with big, round eyes that could unquestionably peer into your soul.

you groaned dramatically and tried to pull out of his grip, which was completely useless. “what is it with you and the cat games?” you asked out of pure exasperation. you had already given up on an orgasm, having switched your vibrator off almost the instant you heard his voice.

“you know, you sit down and watch happy little animals sit and eat and eat and sit - you just get to turn your brain off for a bit, it’s nice,” he shrugged, still watching you.

you stared at him for a moment, finally sighing, “just get out, okay, let me change and you can have your game back,” you folded like a sad, wet paper bag.

you closed your eyes, waiting for him to let go of you and leave. instead, you felt a small kiss on your cheek. your eyes snapped open to find him still leaning over you.

“let me help,” he said, voice gentle, his hands squeezing your wrists softly.

you wanted to smack him - him and his stupid cute face. why couldn’t he just actually go to the stores like you had asked, you wondered to yourself.

he rolled his eyes, leaning down to whisper, “because i know when you’re up to something,” his lips brushed your skin.

it was genuinely trying on your mental faculties that he knew what you were thinking. literally, every thought. it was why he never even asked for the passcode for your phone. and why he regularly answered questions you never verbalized.

“so then you could have just let me have time to myself,” you pouted.

“mmmh, but i can be so much more helpful with this little project, instead of going to get the olives i know you don’t like from a store across town in the rain,” he whispered and nipped teasingly at your earlobe.

you shivered from the contact. you tried to make your mind blank, not exactly wanting him to know how good it already felt to be under him - he already knew too much about you. and this would only serve as reasons for him to be clingier.

“maybe i don’t want help,” you whispered, your anger growing at the intrusion.

he nuzzled closer, “i don’t think that’s true since you keep drafting messages to the guy you met a few weeks ago,” he whispered, kissing your throat gently.

you felt the gentle pressure of his teeth on your throat and whined softly - the feeling was indescribably good. he purred, knowing you liked it, as his lips teased lower. his tongue marking your throat and collarbones. he worked his hands under your shirt, leaning up enough to pull it over your head. the way he gazed down at you was unexpected - his normal apathy was gone. his hands went to your breasts, massaging them, his thumbs brushing over your already pebbled nipples - he was gentle, taking his time teasing you before he dipped his head down, his lips making contact with the sensitive skin of your tits. you felt his teeth graze your skin as he sucked one nipple and then the other.

he finally leaned up, looking a bit disheveled, and licking his lips, “i want them full,” he murmured. you weren’t completely sure what he meant, but you didn’t really care either as he made his way down your body, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. he pulled off your sleep shorts and underwear and lifted your hips so he could easily work his tongue between your slick folds, finding your clit almost immediately.

the way he sucked the bud between his lips was mind numbing - you couldn’t help reaching down to grab his hair roughly, wanting him to know what you were feeling in the moment. your whines and moans weren’t enough, he needed to feel you gripping his long hair and pulling it every time his tongue made the most perfect contact. and when he added his fingers, you entered another plane of existence, pulling his hair, arching off the bed and moaning his name in a way that should have been embarrassing. it was like you had never been properly touched by a man in your life, and you were finally learning what pleasure was.

you came quickly - your cum rushing past his fingers, which he seemed to enjoy based on the way he licked into you, lapping at your opening. you could feel his tongue working impossibly deep inside you. you knew without asking that he wanted you to come again.

his fingers worked your clit while his tongue was still exploring your sticky walls, and you felt it again, the sweetest pleasure flowing through every part of your body. he leaned up, licking his lips, giving your pussy a gentle smack.

“feeling better?” he asked, almost sounding sincere.

you sighed and nodded, “much better.” you didn’t move, but found yourself wondering if he was as god at fucking as he was at eating pussy.

he grinned, his hands tracing over your hips and stomach, “is that what you want now - my cock stretching you open,” he glanced up, watching you for a second before glancing back down.

you could feel the way his fingers were carefully prodding your stomach - it was almost like he was looking for something.

“is your dick as good as i think?”

he nodded without looking up, “you won’t even know what to compare it to,” he grinned, voice smug.

you didn’t say anything - you just watched him undress, noiticing how good he looked, and that, at least from your angle, his cock looked fairly average. but then he was between your legs again, kissing you, licking into you, “you have no idea how perfect you are,” he whispered, his fingers still working to prep you.

you had thought it often enough, and you knew he knew, but you found yourself confessing how gorgeous you found him. he smiled, kissing you just as he began sliding his cock inside you, “let me make you full,” he whispered when he started to move. you nodded, not caring what he did because you knew how perfect it felt.

you were sure you were even slicker than before as he began moving inside you, but even though you could feel how thick and long his cock was, you knew you were taking every inch of him without any pain. it didn’t matter how brutal his pace was either, you only felt the pleasure of him stretching you wider than you thought possible - going deeper than you knew was possible - you were sure you could feel his dick slamming into your stomach with every thrust. you wanted to feel how deep inside you he was, but he kept pinning your hands back against the mattress, thrusting harder.

“i’m exactly as deep as you think, pet,” he groaned, snapping his hips, “i can go even further if you want.”

you laughed softly, even as you heard the deep, shivering moan that came from him. you felt the odd sensation of something entering you - not his cock or fingers, something cool and almost heavy - you orgasmed, seeing bright lights flashing behind your eyelids as you felt the same sensation, something entering you - something smooth and round going deep inside and clinging to your inner walls.

“you’re really doing it?” you managed to whisper.

he moaned, “told you i want you full,” he whispered, voice ragged as you felt another object pumped into your cunt, “want to breed you full, pet - make you mine forever,” he whispered, finally pulling out.

you stayed in his arms after, enjoying how safe you felt.

“i’ve never given them to anyone before,” he whispered, kissing your temple.

you fell asleep cradled against him, your cervix full of his precious eggs.

a/n: i love writing cheol, especially cheol in magical aus because low key i had this idea and now i want to know way more about him

♡ kat

bingo card master list

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚

seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral |

tag list: @syluslittlecrow ☁︎ @gyuguys ☁︎ @haik-chu ☁︎ @tinyelfperson ☁︎ @lovetaroandtaemin ☁︎ @unlikelysublimekryptonite ☁︎ @gigglensnort ☁︎

♡ if you want to be tagged in my posts, go [here] & this is my [master list] if you want to read more

363 notes · View notes

gurugirl · 1 year ago

Text

Next Door Neighbors

Summary: You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.

A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn't get it out earlier but it's here now! Enjoy this little 🎈 Harry Styles Happy Birthday Treat 🎈xoxo

Word Count: 7.8k

Warning: 18+ only, smut

It was the perfect house with the perfect backyard in the perfect neighborhood. You’d hit the jackpot. Your first big girl purchase. A house with a lovely garden, two bedrooms, a lovely little kitchen with the perfect rays of light that shone in through the big windows all morning. And the neighborhood was nice and quiet where you could enjoy your weekends in peace reading to your heart’s content.

It was a huge upgrade from the apartment life you endured for years while you saved up for just this thing. And you’d finally found it. Things seemed to be coming together for you in life finally.

On Friday after you got off work, Zoya called, asking if you wanted to go out with the girls but you politely declined, “I’m just gonna stay in I think. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe next weekend, Zo.”

You had a bottle of wine tucked under your arm as you held your cell phone to your ear on your way to the checkout lane at the little neighborhood market a few blocks from your house. Your new house. The one with your name on the mortgage.

Your plan was to drink a little wine in your cute new backyard and read a book, just taking in the peace of your new place.

You turned on the twinkle lights over your back porch (your dad had helped you put them up into the trees) and sat down in your outdoor lounge chair with a glass of wine and the book you’d been looking forward to reading. The sun had just gone down and you could hear crickets. A perfect Friday night, in your opinion.

That is until you were twenty pages into your book and suddenly the loud racket of what sounded like obnoxiously loud live music playing from next door had you closing your book and standing up to investigate.

The closer you got the more you could hear the unmistakable sound of a live band playing, the pop of a snare drum, the trill of a guitar... You looked over the wood fence into the driveway of your neighbor’s home and couldn’t see much but you saw lights on inside of the garage and the loud ruckus of a homemade instrumental band.

You didn’t want to be one of those neighbors. One of those awful people who complained about everything their neighbors did. But this was ridiculous. It seemed they had no regard for any of the people that lived around them.

Walking back to what was supposed to be your little oasis you sat down and grumped to yourself about how rude some people could be. You’d give them one hour until you went over there and told them in person to lower the noise.

You’d only been living in your little house for a few days and this was your first Friday night. You had really been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. Not even your second glass of wine could calm you down.

You didn’t know why you were so mad about it. In your apartment, you were bombarded with noise from all the neighbors who shared a wall with you and the loud heard of elephants that lived above you.

But this? It was meant to be your sanctuary. Your place of solitude.

But you’d had it. When an hour had passed and you paced around your backyard getting up the nerve to walk over there you huffed and psyched yourself up as you made your way into the front yard of your neighbor’s house and could see three men inside the wide open garage. A drummer pounding away, and two men standing – one with a guitar and another with a bass.

You stepped into the driveway and clutched your cardigan closer to your chest as you appeared at the threshold of the garage and the music abruptly stopped when the tall one with dark curls laid his eyes on you.

“Hi. You’re the new neighbor,” he raised his hand from the neck of the guitar he had slung over his shoulder and smiled.

You instantly no longer were raging with anger when you heard his voice and realized this was the man you’d seen briefly the morning before as he got into his car. You imagined he was attractive but not this attractive. Tattoos along one arm, thick curls, plush pink lips, dimples…

“Uh… yeah. I just moved in next door a few days ago.” You looked behind yourself and back toward the men before continuing, “I was hoping you guys could–“

Your voice was cut off by the clash of a symbol then the hit of a snare before the drummer tapped his sticks together, “We’re in the middle of something here in case you didn’t see.”

“Hey… chill. Don’t be rude man,” the curly-headed man with the guitar shot a look at the drummer before looking back at you, “What were you saying? Sorry.”

You shifted on your feet, “I was wondering if you guys could keep it down. It’s so loud and it’s all I can hear while I’m trying to read.”

The guy with the bass guitar spoke, “Oh come on, lady. We hardly ever get to do this.”

Your neighbor began removing his guitar, lifting the strap over his head as he looked at the other two, “Let’s call it a night guys. That’s enough.”

The other two began to grumble as they packed away their things and your neighbor stepped out of the garage in front of you with his hand held out to you, “I’m Harry.”

You smiled and placed your palm against his, “Y/n.”

The drummer came up beside Harry, “Today’s his birthday you know. The only thing he wanted today was to jam out for a bit.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Harry, “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry… you–“

“Don’t worry about it. We had a good hour. I’m beat anyway. Long week at work.”

The bassist gave Harry a side hug, “I’m gonna head home. See you later, okay? Happy birthday, dude.”

“Oh. I should leave. I’m really sorry again,” you waved as you began to back away.

But Harry stepped in toward you, “Stick around for a minute okay?”

The drummer followed suit, bidding Harry a happy birthday and then getting into his car to drive away as you stood awkwardly at the edge of the garage until it was just you and Harry.

“I’m sorry. I feel really bad that they left. And it’s your birthday too? I’ll… do you want a bottle of wine or something? Let me grab you a bottle as a gift and an apology…”

Harry grinned at you and shook his head, “Mind if I come with you? I’d love to see the inside of the house. Never got the chance to see it before. That can be your birthday gift to me.”

You noted the smirk on his face, his confident posture, and then you realized he had crystalline green eyes. Something in the way he was looking at you gave you those ridiculous butterflies in your tummy.

“Yeah. Of course, Harry.” You turned and he followed behind you as you led him into your backyard, closing the gate behind yourself.

“This is the backyard. I’m gonna put in some flowers over there,” you pointed, “And maybe do something with the porch at some point.”

Harry looked around the backyard briefly before he put his gaze back on you as you opened up your door to let him inside. You were sure you were insane to be letting your neighbor, whom you did not know, into our house with you alone at night, but you only live once, isn’t that what they say?

“Kitchen,” you gestured your hand and then moved through into the living room where Harry trailed behind you and looked around.

“It’s nice. I like how big the windows are. Always was jealous of how big they are compared to mine.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “It’s one of the reasons I bought the place. The window in the kitchen overlooking the backyard kind of sealed the deal for me. Lots of great light comes in for most of the day.”

“I bet it does,” he kept his eyes on you and your tummy was still fluttering about.

“Over here is the bedroom,” you flipped on the switch, “It’s got its own full bathroom. Tiny but I like it.” You turned to move down the hall and flipped on the switch to the hallway bathroom, “Another bathroom, here,” and then moved to the final door, pushing it open to an empty room, “And at some point, I’ll furnish this. It’ll be like an office, guest room sort of thing.”

You turned off the light and looked back at Harry who was standing right behind you.

“Thank you, for showing me around.”

You felt your face warm up as you looked at him. You liked how he said your name. Liked how his lips moved around his words when he spoke.

“Of course. Um… do you want any wine? I was a glass and a half into a bottle if you want to finish it with me?”

That was an easy yes from Harry. You brought your glass in from outside and pulled out a clean one for your neighbor before pouring a bit of the burgundy liquid inside for him.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” you held your glass out to him and he tapped the edge of his glass to yours, “Sorry that I ruined it, though. I kind of feel awful.”

Harry shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Like I said, it was a long week at work and we had a good hour anyway. Plus this is nice. Getting to know my neighbor,” he took a sip of his wine.

“How old are you today?” You took a sip of your wine as you watched him.

“30,” he sighed, “Grown adult officially.” He smiled.

You laughed at his remark and nodded, “Yes, 30 marks the official entry into adulthood. That’s my belief as well.”

You really liked Harry. He was easy to talk to and you decided he made you feel very comfortable.

“So, you’re a musician?” You raised your brows.

He shook his head and chuckled, “Well, I like to sing and play instruments. I’m not really great or anything. Just a hobby. Used to be in a band in college but then I realized I had to get a real job and figure out how to pay my bills and get along in life.”

You leaned your bottom into your kitchen counter and smiled at him, “Oh yeah. I know all about that. Would be nice if we could make good money just doing our hobbies so we didn’t have to get real jobs,” you laughed, “What do you do for work?”

“I’m an electrical contractor. Have a small business with three employees. It’s hard work but it pays well. Most of the time.”

You smiled. He continued to get more attractive the more he talked and the more you learned. It didn’t hurt that you could tell he was in incredibly great shape as well. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and his shirt stretched tightly over the lats at his back and hung loosely where his waist was, indicating a nice healthy build and upper body strength. His arms were lean muscle and even his thighs filled out the tops of his jeans so you understood it wasn’t just his upper body that was well-muscled.

You heard Harry chuckle as you darted your eyes back up to his. You’d been caught checking him out. You hadn’t meant to let your eyes scrape down his frame but… well. Here you were.

“And what do you do, Y/n?”

Harry kept his sight on you as he sipped from his glass. His sultry gaze was doing things to your hormones and making your heart pump a little harder behind your ribcage.

“I’m the general manager at SpendCo,” you laughed and shrugged, “Not a fancy job but I like it. Good benefits. Was able to save up for this place,” you gestured your hand around the kitchen.

“My job’s not fancy either,” Harry laughed, “But yeah. It’s steady work. A good paycheck.”

You nodded. You could relate in some ways. You’d gone to school for business but wound up working your way up from the bottom at SpendCo. When you started you were making just over minimum wage as a cashier, but now you worked in the office, Monday through Friday (no more weekends for you) and had shift managers and employees working under you. It felt good to be the boss.

“Wanna sit in the living room? Couch is brand new. In fact, I’ve hardly even had the chance to sit in it myself.”

“Yeah. Let’s break that couch in, Y/n,” Harry grinned as he nudged you with his shoulder.

Oh?

You laughed at his comment but decided to not take it the way you imagined he meant. Of course, he obviously meant just sitting on it and breaking it in that way. Certainly, there were no innuendos behind his words.

You didn’t have a proper coffee table yet so you pulled an empty bin with a lid to the front of the couch, “We’ll use this to put our glasses on. Still not done decorating or buying things I need, as you can tell.”

Harry sat his glass down on the plastic lid of the bin and pointed at your stereo setup next to the TV, “Can I put on some music?”

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled as you took another sip of your wine and watched your handsome neighbor get up and turn on your stereo and speakers. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and searched for the Bluetooth to connect and a song began to play over your speakers.

“Like Chris Isaak?” Harry asked as he sat down on the couch, right next to you, his knee knocking into yours.

“Yeah… I think. I’ve heard this song before anyway,” you smiled as you looked down at your thighs.

Harry leaned his back into the cushion and you felt him shifting next to you, his arm propped up on the back of the seat behind you.

“So where did you live before you moved in here?”

You turned your head to look at him before placing your eyes safely on the plastic bin, “In an apartment over in Roger’s Park. Nice little neighborhood. But I hated living in an apartment. Lugging groceries up three flights of stairs every time I went shopping. I mean I got used to it but still…” you laughed.

“Oh yeah. I know what you mean. I used to live in an apartment too. Actually also in Roger’s Park… but that was like five years ago.”

You peeked at him with your brows raised, “Yeah? You lived in Roger’s Park too? What area?”

“Off Grand near the big bus terminal.”

“Wait. For real? At Sheraton Oaks?”

Harry furrowed his brows and squinted, “Yes. Shit. Is that where you lived?”

“It is. 3rd floor. Apartment 10.”

Harry turned his body toward you, his thigh flush against yours, “No fucking way, Y/n. I lived in apartment 10,” he pointed his thumb at himself with a wide surprised grin on his face.

You shook your head and looked at him in disbelief, “That’s wild. How funny that two people who used to live in the same apartment at different times became next-door neighbors. What are the chances?”

Harry laughed, “Seems quite unlikely in such a big city.”

You and Harry sat facing one another in amazement as a new song came on.

“You okay?” Harry’s pupils ran over your features and you saw him looking at your lips as he poked his tongue out to wet his own.

“Yeah. Why?”

Harry softly smiled as he lifted his hand to your face and you felt the pad of his thumb press into your cheek, “You’re biting the inside of your cheeks. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t nervous or something.”

You puffed out a laugh and shook your head, “No. I’m not nervous. Sometimes I chew on the inside of my cheeks. Bad habit.”

Harry nodded shallowly with his eyes on you but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine.

“So… um…” you glanced at him and shot your eyes to his hand that held the stem of the glass. His hands were nice and big and you noticed he had his nails painted, alternating blue and yellow.

“So, um… What? What were you gonna say?”

You gulped and forced yourself to look into his eyes. He was so handsome and you were beginning to get hot all over. He was too close (not that that was a bad thing), his thigh was solid against yours, and his eyes were drawing something out of you. He was alluring.

“I don’t…” you shook your head, “Forgot what I was gonna say.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth, a muted grin on his face as you watched dimples carve into his cheeks. Like he knew what you were thinking.

“I like this sweater,” he gestured toward your cardigan and you looked down at it. It was knitted with a cat playing with a ball of yarn on the left side.

“My aunt bought it for me for Christmas last year,” you smiled and as you brought your eyes up you noticed he was wearing a necklace but you couldn’t see the whole thing as it was tucked under his t-shirt.

He pulled at a button on your cardigan and cocked his head as he looked at you, “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? Do you want me to leave?”

Your eyes widened, “Oh no. This is nice. I… I’m okay. Honestly.”

“Okay. You just seem a little frazzled. Want to make sure I’m not doing anything that’s making you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, “No. You’re great. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable.” You bit your bottom lip into your mouth and tried to give off an air of calm and confidence like Harry was but he was something else. He was so incredibly attractive and the eye contact was making you slowly melt. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss him.

He grinned, one side of his mouth pulling upward, “I see.”

You watched as he took a deep breath and placed his wine glass back down before looking back into your eyes, “So, um… can I ask you a personal question?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Sure.”

“Do you have a boyfriend or…?”

Your brows raised upward, “Oh. Uh, no. No boyfriend,” you put your hands into your lap and fiddled with your fingers, “And, uh… you? Significant other?”

A breathy laugh fell from his chest as he shook his head, “Nope.” He popped the p as he responded.

You nodded and looked down at the hand that he’d placed over his thigh. His pinky was pressed into your leg. You were sure he was giving you some kind of signal. All the signs were there. His body language, eye contact, asking you about a boyfriend, and the nearness of him… He was so close you could smell the soap he used.

“Mmm…” you racked your brain to think of anything to say, “How long have you lived here?”

He licked his lips again, “Five years. Moved out of Sheraton Oaks and then bought the house next door.”

You smiled, “So that means I moved in right after you moved out.”

Harry slowly moved his hand further toward your leg and you felt his pinky and ring finger press into your leggings before subtly bending his pinky finger out to rub the fabric under his digit, “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”

“Yeah. Guess so,” you gave him a weak smile and looked down at his hand.

“Am I overstepping?”

You shook your head and looked up at him.

“No? What about if I kissed you? Is that too much?”

Your breath caught in your lungs as you kept your eyes pinned to his and shook your head again.

“No, it’s not too much? Or no you don’t want me to kiss you?”

You swallowed and your heart bounced around in your chest so wildly you could almost hear it, “No, it’s not too much.”

The smile on Harry’s face was soft as he looked from your eyes to your mouth, “It’s okay then? You don’t mind the birthday boy stealing a kiss from his cute neighbor?”

That pulled a laugh from you just as he hoped it would, “I’d like that I think.”

Harry slid his free hand up to the side of your neck, his thumb at the base of your jaw close to your ear, “Last chance to say no.”

You laughed again and placed your palm over the top of his hand that had fully moved over your thigh, “Kiss me.”

The slow movement of his face toward yours, the nudge of his nose to your skin, hot puffs of breath spreading over your cheek, soft lips brushing against the edge of your mouth, before he finally pressed his smooth pink lips against yours was alchemic. Something about him, about the way he handled himself and spoke to you and devoured you with his eyes… But with his mouth against yours, his thumb softly rubbing at your jaw, and his hand moving to fit his fingers between yours as he kept it pressed over your thigh you felt electrified.

And he tasted like mint and smelled like soap and his lips were smooth and moist against yours. Your Friday night had already turned out far better than you imagined it would.

Yeah. Making out on your new couch in your new house with your new neighbor was way better.

You slid the palm of your free hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his neck as his own grip on the side of your neck and jaw tightened the slightest.

But your mind was on his mouth. The heat coming from his touch. The way his tongue slid through your lips to beckon them open…

Harry pulled at your hand and urged you toward his lap. Parting your legs you sat down over the spread of his thighs, settling yourself as close to him as possible.

He slid his hands up your thighs and you felt ravenous. It was as if sitting in his lap made it so much more real. He was moving things along and you were keeping pace.

You pressed your tongue against his and softly rocked your hips down. As your pelvis tilted against Harry, he moaned into your mouth and it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard.

“Fuck. You still good?” He parted from the kiss, keeping his nose bumped against yours.

You breathed out a yes as you nodded and when you lifted your face your lips brushed against his and it started all over again. Lips smothered over lips and tongues wetly dragging against tongues.

Harry’s hands inched up to your hips and you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling his pulse, steady and strong under your skin.

He lapped over your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and then dropped his cushiony lips down to your jaw, peppering damp kisses under the space of your chin and over your neck.

You loved having your neck kissed. Not just loved it… you craved it. The feel of a man’s breath and mouth and tongue and nose against your pulse point and the delicate skin that wrapped over blood pumping through your arteries had your skin tingling.

Another rock of your hips down and you felt the obvious swell of something growing under his jeans. He hissed and you backed away from his mouth, not knowing if his sharp inhale was from pain or if he liked the slide of the fabric over your crotch pressing against him.

When you looked at his eyes he was a different man. His pupils had widened and his plush pink lips were wet and parted, nostrils taking in air heavily as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.

“Did I hurt you?” You brought one of your hands toward his jaw feeling the light scruff along the bone under your knuckles.

He shook his head, “No. Not at all. But I do need to reposition.”

You looked down between your bodies and moved back on his thighs to give him space but before your brain could connect to your motions you were reaching down for his button to unpluck from the thick jean fabric. He gently lifted his hips as you unzipped his pants and then you looked at him as you pushed the bottom hem of his shirt upward over the band of his underwear.

“You wanna help?” He spoke breathily as you nodded and pulled the elastic away from his skin with one hand and used the other to reach under the fabric. It was sparse hair and skin and then and then denser hair and warmth until you felt him tucked awkwardly to the side against his pelvis.

The small coo that fell from your mouth was involuntary as you wrapped your hand around him. Hot and thick in your hand. He inhaled sharply again when he felt your palm on his cock as you helped guide him upright.

Your breath was unsteady and shallow as you kept your eyes on Harry’s, “God, Harry.”

“What?” His teasing smirk gave away that he knew what. He knew his cock was big and watching your reaction to that was pleasing.

You gulped and peeked down at it, your hand still holding the fabric away from his hips. A swollen, smooth ruddy colored tip that matched the pink of his lips. The length of which pushed out from the top of the band and sat perfectly in between two fern tattoos at his hips along the bare part of his skin.

“It’s…” you looked back up at him, “It’s nice.”

Harry breathed out a laugh, “Nice? Why thank you.” He grinned.

But then you felt his fingers slide under your t-shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly until his skin was pressed into your sides. It felt like he was urging you to remove your shirt so you did. Pulling your cardigan off first you let it fall to the floor at Harry’s feet before you peeled your t-shirt off.

Harry was surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra. It had been easy enough to hide under the knitted sweater you figured, so you never put a bra on when you went to confront him earlier. And of course, you weren’t wearing one. It was meant to be a quiet Friday night in. There had been no need.

He pushed his hands up your sides until his fingers were wrapped around your ribs with his thumbs pressing into the soft plump underside of your tits.

You watched him take you in. Your nipples were straining and goosebumps littered your flesh as he ghosted his thumbs along the sensitive tissue.

It felt like so much. You had never done anything remotely sexual with someone you didn’t know. But Harry was hot and you were turned on. So much so that you could feel the dampness in your panties.

You reached back to his chest, pulling at his shirt. You wanted to see more. Wanted to know what he looked like underneath it all. You knew he was fit. And you were positive there were more tattoos hidden away under the material of his shirt.

With his eyes on yours, he moved his hands away from your breasts and pulled his shirt off, taking the back and bringing it over his head at the front. You got a glimpse of the necklace he wore. A white gold cross that slapped against his chest when it caught on the fabric of his shirt as he removed it.

You had been right. His body was defined and strong. Bulky muscular pecs and toned abs. Inked skin from his clavicle to the butterfly under his pectorals and down to the ferns, where his cock poked out of the top of his underwear.

Pressing your palms over his pecs you smoothed your hands down over his nipples and to the butterfly tattoo underneath.

Harry put his hands on your hips again while you admired his torso and you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your dark-colored tights. Another signal. A question seeking approval for more.

Drawing your eyes up to his you put your hands over his fingers and pushed the material down with him.

Of course, sitting in his lap hindered too much movement but he understood your hint as he pushed you up by your hips and you found yourself being moved off of his lap to your back on the couch.

“Still good, Y/n?” He looked at you with those dark pupils, an air of respectful authority. He made your skin boil.

You nodded, “I’m good.”

Harry began to pull at the stretchy fabric, bringing it down your hips and over your thighs til your knees were free and then he lifted your legs so he could get the leggings off your feet.

When your pants were on the floor, he still had your legs held upward, one hand at the back of your ankles and you peered down at him indulging in the sight of your skin at the back of your thighs and down to your bottom covered in your panties.

You saw a grin on his face as he brought your legs down before he stood up and pulled his jeans off his legs.

His body was so strong and masculine. He could easily dominate you, the thought briefly crossed your mind as you watched the muscles in his arms flex, his abs clench, and the sinew on his powerful-looking thighs bulge as he steadied himself one leg at a time until his jeans were off and he was only clad in his underwear with dark inky designs on his skin and even on his thigh.

He kneed himself down onto the couch, hovering over you as you naturally spread your legs to allow him space between your thighs.

And the feel of his hard shaft pressing over your mound before his lips dropped down to yours once again had you dazed. It almost didn’t feel real.

“So fucking hot, Y/n…” he whispered against your lips, “Made me so hard.”

You gasped when he rocked himself down over you, fabric rubbing against fabric until your arousal had seeped through your panties and began wetting his underwear.

He moaned and parted from this kiss, “You’re all wet.” He slid himself upward and then back with a grin. “You like that?”

You nodded with a moan.

“Yeah? What else do you want, Y/n? Hm? Want to get rid of these panties?”

You moved your shaky hands down your hips and pushed at the fabric to bring them down. All you wanted was him. Your hormones were screaming at you and all you could think about was his big cock and how it would feel sliding inside of you.

Harry laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed and moved back to help you remove your panties, “Okay. We can get these off. Mind if I lose my underwear too?”

You sat up and reached for the band of his briefs as he began to push them down until he was completely bare before you.

His cock hung heavy outward, pointing toward you, like it was beckoning to be touched so you did, reaching for him and taking your palm from his tip to his base until your hand hit the dark thatch of hair and then pulled back up to his smooth head.

“I want it. Want to feel it, Harry.” You looked at him as you pumped him again.

He groaned as he watched your small hand move along his length.

“Do you have a condom?”

You swallowed and paused your motions. You definitely did not have a condom. Which was quite unfortunate because that could only mean sex was not going to happen unless he had one and was willing to go to his house to get it.

Shaking your head no you frowned.

Harry licked his lips and trailed his eyes over your tits and down your tummy, “S’okay. Plenty of other ways to have fun.”

You whined as you looked down at your hand. You had really wanted to feel that big thing wrecking your insides.

Harry took your chin and tilted your face to look up at him, “What’s wrong?”

You inhaled and let go of his pretty dick, “I wanted to feel you so bad.”

He pressed his mouth against yours, soft reassuring kisses had your heart strumming in your chest.

“Well I would hate to disappoint you,” he grinned, “Want to go to mine? I’ve got condoms. We’ll just have to put some clothes back on.”

You nodded and pushed yourself up, quickly pulling your cardigan on and slipping your leggings back up your legs.

Harry liked how desperate you seemed. That was quite the ego boost. He put his shirt back on and pulled his jeans up but left the zipper down as he clutched the fabric to keep it up.

“Guess that’s good enough for breaking your couch in, yeah?”

You laughed and nodded, “Was a good first use for it I think.”

Harry laughed as he took your hand and you two made your way out your front door to his, hurrying over grass under bare feet and small chuckles until you were in the safety and privacy of his living room. He kept your hand in his until he got to his bedroom where he pulled his shirt off and you followed suit, ridding yourself of the annoying clothing you’d had to put back on.

But you knew it was going to be worth it.

Harry dug into his bedside table for a condom and laid it on top of the wood before looking back at you, “You still want this?”

You nodded and climbed onto his bed. The tunnel vision you had was keeping your mind from wandering too far off course as you watched Harry stroke his cock, long pulls up and down to his base as he crawled after you onto his bed.

You easily opened up your legs for him to fit his hips between and felt his warm cock slipping through your folds, rubbing against your clit.

“So slippery, Y/n.” You knew you were as he drove himself over your labia, smoothing his cock against your arousal back and forth.

A shaky moan fell from your throat and Harry grinned as he smeared his lips against your mouth.

He worked himself up and down, wetting the outside of his cock and his tip as he inched through your pussylips smoothly.

You loved his mouth. Loved how he kissed you. It was raw and felt like he gave a damn. Felt like he was enjoying your mouth just as much as you enjoyed his.

Finally, he pushed himself back and reached for his condom looking at you, “Do want anything else first? Or do just want my cock?”

You looked down at his hard dick with your arousal spread all over him and it was all you wanted.

“I want your cock,” your words were breathy as you looked up into his eyes.

“Yeah? A greedy little thing aren’t you?” Harry began to pull the condom over his shaft, pinching the tip as he dragged the rubber down as far as it would reach before settling himself back against your hips, pushing your thighs back slightly, “So desperate for it,” he nudged his cock down against your pussy and then slid it up to your clit teasingly, “Couldn’t wait to have me inside you. Insisted on it even,” he grinned as he tormented you with his wide girth slipping back and forth against your cunt.

You tilted your hips up and groaned, trying to get him to push inside but he continued his taunting movements, “Now, now… so impatient. I’ll give you what you want soon enough sweetheart. But today’s my birthday so I get to control the pace. Don’t want you getting all bossy with me.”

You moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders as you rolled your hips upward again, kissing his slit with your entrance but this time he placed a hand over your thigh and held you in place, “Is it that bad, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Please, Harry.”

“Mmm… love a well-mannered lady. You gonna be good for me?”

You sighed and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so horny, so out of your mind desperate, “I’m gonna be good. Please.”

“Yeah? Cause once I slide inside of you there’s no turning back.”

You gripped his shoulders tight and groaned, “Please.”

The feel of his warm, heavy cock smeared against your clit was almost too much. In fact, you could probably come from that alone if given enough time.

“So sweet for me, Y/n,” Harry took the thigh he’d been holding down and brought your leg over his low back, smoothing his hand over your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.

The moment you felt him pressing his bulbous head through your slick muscle you dropped your mouth open and moaned but then his mouth caught yours and the noises you were making became muffled as he moved his lips against your mouth.

You knew he was going to split you in half. The slow glide of his cock inside your warm walls was intense. Inch by inch he pushed in as his lips were wrapped around yours.

Holding onto his lats you lifted your hips against his as he slid back and then buried himself into the hilt. You gasped into his mouth at the ache of him nudging into your guts and then pulling back to his tip only to slide himself back in. Working you open slowly, he continued to drive into your cunt with gushy wet noises coming from your pussy as he stretched you open.

You appreciated him plunging in slowly and easing you into fitting around his cock properly. You liked the warmup but more than that, you needed him to destroy your pussy.

When he felt you bucking upward into him he parted his mouth from yours and sat back with his knees bent. You saw him watching the space where he was connected with your cunt as he continued rolling into you.

His abs were flexing as he steadied himself in and out. You gasped when he began to fuck into you a little faster, his cock sliding through your walls and bumping into all the slick bits on your insides.

A gurgled moan fell from your lips as he smacked his hips into yours. The patting of his balls against your ass came out in wet thuds. Your tits bounced with every long stroke into your tummy and he was panting as he let his eyes scan over your body and up to your pretty face.

“Taking me so well, Y/n. Making me leak into my condom already, pussy’s so good.”

You both moaned as he drove into you, his mattress under you giving way to the force of his thrusts.

“Feels so good, Harry…” you panted.

“Yeah?” He bucked inward and ground against you, swiveling his hips and you gasped at the deep press into your cervix.

His fingers were pinching into your thighs as he stuffed himself in and you gripped his forearms for leverage and lifted your neck to watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again.

His shaft was coated with your shiny arousal as he slid in and out, your pussy gripping around his skin perfectly.

Harry’s moans were growing louder as he continued fucking into you wetly, hips slamming against yours making his balls strike into your ass.

His thighs were flexing as he rocked against you while your body was shivering and feeling the bliss of getting an itch scratched that you’d been needing.

You felt his right hand release your thigh and then watched him press his thumb over your slippery clit.

You let out a pathetic cry of relief when he smoothed the pad of his digit in circles on your bud, “Yes! Oh god!”

Harry coughed out a moan as he watched your face twist up, “That feel good, Y/n?”

You focused your sight on his eyes and nodded, “Yes…”

The grin on his face could have been akin to something cocky but your brain was mush as you let him wreck you with deep strokes into your tummy, wet and sloppy, dripping arousal down your ass.

The springs in his mattress were bouncing in time with his thrusts and the wooden frame on his bed creaked when he jerked his hips forward into you.

“Just like that, huh? Pussy needed fucked, yeah?” Harry’s words were coming out tight and shaky. You could hear it in his voice how good it felt for him too.

He pressed down and moved his thumb deliciously over your puffy clit as his cock punched into your organs and tissue making you throw your head back and close your eyes arching your back upward.

Harry loved the sight; your sloppy wet pussy spreading apart for his cock as you arched your back like the sexy thing you were, soft tits swaying every time he buried himself in balls deep, lips parted, neck long and stretched out as you breathily moaned his name, “Hh… Harry…”

He could watch you like this all night. Stretches of skin covered in goosebumps as if you were cold, hard nipples at the center of your wobbly squeezable tits, soft tummy clenching, and wet pussy ruined and clenching around him.

The way he was smushing and circling his thumb over your clit had your head fuzzy and your heart racing. But then he leaned over you and pressed his other hand over your low tummy as he fucked into you, pushing against your insides and making the space he was invading with his cock feel tighter as he slid upward and nudged into your guts.

“Gahhh…” you let out a gasped moan when his hand pressed into your stomach.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Harry’s eyes were on yours as he drove himself into you.

You nodded and scrunched your brows upward when your insides began to twist with your pussy stretching around him indulgently.

Your legs began to quiver from the strain of your muscles as you felt your orgasm nearing. Everything he was doing to you set your body alight. You reached for his strong biceps and dug your fingers in tight gasping at the depth of him.

“Be good for me, honey… there you go,” he spoke through clenched teeth, holding back his release, “Right there, huh? Feels good like that?”

You whimpered with a nod as you pinned your eyes to his. The expression on his face was lusty and filled with need as he dipped into you, pasting his hips against yours now, only fucking inward, pressing solidly against your insides.

You cried out when you felt the small burst and snap of your orgasm and he quickly moved his hands from your tummy and clit, leaning his hips against yours before pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your shoulders and angling his body so he could pound into you and fuck you through your orgasm. The way his pelvis smushed against your clit, hips grinding against you as he pulled back and then forced his way through your opening to bury himself deep inside sent you over the edge.

You clung to his shoulders as you spasmed around his fat cock, slipping deep inside of you with a wet squelch as he reared back to his tip before rutting into the hilt.

Your vision and hearing grew muted as you came so you couldn’t hear him clearly when he babbled off nonsense, “Shit! Squeezing the fuck out of me, honey! Oh my god, that feels good. So fucking hot. Gonna make me come so hard…”

Harry’s hips struck against you repeatedly until his balls constricted and tightened and then he was pumping into his condom, his muscles stiffening with his hips pressed into yours, mashing your body into the mattress underneath you.

He choked out a moan as his cock spurted his release, throbbing and twitching inside of you as you panted at how hard he’d come. The front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours, holding you down with his hips as he drained every drop of his come into his condom.

Then it was silent. The sound of sex and moaning was quieted and the bed was no longer creaking and thumping.

Harry pressed his chest against your tits and you felt his plushy lips on yours again and you sighed against his mouth. Slowly your ears stopped ringing and you smoothed your hands up his strong back.

He pushed his face into your neck and his warm breath dampened your skin, “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he laughed.

You grinned with a tiny giggle and opened your eyes before running your fingers into his thick curls.

When he’d pushed himself up to look down at you, you couldn’t get over how adorably handsome your neighbor was. He was sexy as hell and yet so cute at the same time.

“You all right?” His raspy voice was quiet as he searched your face and brought a hand up to your temple, his thumb drawing over your skin.

The grin on your face should have told him as much as you nodded, “Very much all right.” You puffed out a laugh.

He laughed with you and smiled widely, dimples appearing in his cheeks, “Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Y/n.”

Raising a hand up to his jaw you nodded, a cheeky grin still stretched over your mouth, “And happy birthday to you, Harry.”

Part 2

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @kelly-fushiguro345 @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @icumforbaldrry @harrrrystylesslut @straightontilmornin @elidoho @bananabk9756

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fiction #harry styles one shot #firstpost #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x yn #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harrystyles #harry #harry smut

2K notes · View notes

steveslevis · 6 months ago

Text

throughout the great war

chapter 1 - bruised like violets

azriel x hewn city escapee!reader

summary: you come to Velaris hoping for a way to escape the horrors of Hewn City, and you’re immediately taken into the custody of the High Lord of the Night Court. you don't expect him to accommodate you so willingly, and you definitely don't expect him to inform you that you'd be entering a courtship with his Spymaster, Azriel.

warnings: mentions of torture, death, sexual assault and previous violence, death threats, arranged marriage

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

As night approaches on your fifth day away from Hewn City, fear finally starts to settle into your bones.

It’s the dead of winter and you’re in the middle of the mountains in the Night Court, cold chilling you to the core as you trek through the piling snow. The only thing keeping you afloat in the sea of white is the sight of Ramiel ahead of you, and the three stars atop its peak. Those glittering shards in the sky remind you of what you’re trying so hard to find, freedom.

If only you could muster up enough strength to winnow just one more time. One more leap with your remaining strength hopefully would be able to get you somewhere safe. Your mind races as you think of what you can do, as you think about how you can make that last leap before the chill of the night takes you.

Settling onto your knees on the edge of a cliff, you stare up at those three stars for only a moment before squeezing your eyes shut. In the back of your mind, you can see where you want to go, where you know you’ll be safe. It’s a place you’d only been once, during your early years of life, when your brother had snuck you out of the city for a day of fun. You could barely envision it now, but the thought of the bustling streets filled with smiling people and bright shops fills you with hope.

It fills you with enough hope that you’re finally able to make that leap through the nothingness, finally able to make that leap towards the place you barely remember.

Finally able to make that leap towards the place that’s kept you motivated enough to stay alive for these past two hundred and seventy six years, despite all of the horrors you’d endured.

Upon your descent from the nothingness between places, your knees thud against cold stone. The sound of whirling wind is replaced by the sound of laughter and music, and what seems to be a river on the other side of you.

When you gather enough strength to open your eyes, the sight in front of you nearly brings you to tears.

You go unnoticed where you land, at the mouth of an alleyway near a closed bakery. Fae lights twinkle above you, all throughout the street that you gaze down, lighting the way so you can see dozens, if not hundreds, of smiling fae on the road. There’s a butcher on the opposite side of you, a spice market across the way, and a handful of bustling restaurants. It’s a beautiful sight, the relief that fills your chest is unmistakable as you realize this is the place from your dreams, the city that you’ve yearned for since you were a young female.

The relief doesn’t last for long, though.

A plume of darkness swirls around your knees as your happy tears fall, making your brow furrow as the light from above you seems to diminish. Your heart pounds in your throat as you finally dare to look up, catching a glimpse of midnight black boots before tears blur your vision. Your head is fully tilted up when you blink them away, and your gaze locks with a pair of dark hazel eyes for only a moment.

It’s only a moment before you’re engulfed in shadows, and in that moment you know you’re probably not going to like wherever it is you’re being taken

___________________________________

The dungeon is cold and damp, reminding you all too well of your old home, of the cell that your father considered to be your bedroom.

If it weren’t for the fact that there was a mysterious winged male looming above you now, you would’ve been convinced that you were back in that same basement you’d been locked in for over fifty years.

“You’re not a citizen of Velaris.” he states simply, eyes narrowed as he reaches for the dagger at his side. “You have a chance to explain yourself freely, explain how you ended up in the middle of the city. Or I’ll have no choice but to make you confess.”

You cower away from the male then, back slamming into the wall as he takes a step towards you. Tears fill your eyes as you shake your head, mind immediately brought back to all those times that your step-father, and the others, came into your so-called bedroom to torture you. Shadows snake around your wrists and throat tightly, constricting against the skin in a way that makes you let out a strangled scream as you squirm.

“I–I’m sorry!” you yelp, squeezing your eyes shut as you shudder in pain under the weight of the shadows on your skin.

“Just confess what your intentions are.” he demands cooly, twirling his blade in his hands as he stares at you with dark eyes. “Tell me what you’re doing in this city and I’ll think about sparing you.”

“P–Please!” you cry out, a sob falling from your lips as you stare up at him. “I–I’ll tell you anything you want, I’m from H–Hewn City. I–I winnowed here from the mountains. Please, please don’t hurt me, please don’t kill me.”

Your lip quivers and your hands shake as you curl your legs up to your chest, hoping to make yourself as small as possible so he’ll have mercy on you. Your body is almost entirely numb now, only feeling the fear gnawing at you as you rock back and forth on the cold stone floor, pleading softly to be spared while the shadows finally loosen their hold on you.

He almost drops the dagger when he finally takes a good look at you. As he watches you repeat the phrase please don’t hurt me over and over again, something stirs in the male’s chest.

A sob catches in your throat when you hear him stagger, looking up to see him staring down at you with wide eyes. He’d staggered a step away from you, something like shock written on his features as he hastily shoved the dagger back into its sheath.

“Stay right there.” he says in a low voice, “My shadows are watching you. So if you try to move, I will know.”

You don’t have time to question what he means about his shadows watching you, as he all but vanishes into thin air a second later.

A shadow skitters around your wrist after he disappears, but it’s a gentle caress compared to the way they bound you as you were shadow-walked into this basement by the elusive male. The darkness swirls around your skin, seemingly attempting to soothe the bruises littering your arms as you sit there, quietly awaiting your fate.

Though he’s only gone for five minutes, it seems like you’re alone for an eternity before the darkness brings him back to the cell. He’s not alone this time, though. Two high fae winnow into the room after him, and your heart threatens to fall through your stomach when they step into the cell, into the light where you can see them.

The High Lord and Lady of the Night Court are standing over you, their presence all but taking the air out of your lungs as you attempt to scramble to your feet in order to bow for them, just as the citizens of Hewn City were made to do every time they visited. You fall to your knees when you try to stand the first time, all of your energy wasted on your final winnow into the city, so you opt for bowing on your knees in front of the couple.

A soft and surprisingly kind laugh falls from the High Lord’s lips as you do, but you don’t dare to look up as your mind races. You don’t even dare to look up when you hear someone shuffle towards you, shifting onto their knees in front of your cowering figure. A gentle hand caresses your shoulder, and you finally dare to look up from where you were staring at the stone.

When you finally do, you see the High Lady staring at you with kind eyes and a gentle smile, sitting knee-to-knee with you on the dungeon floor.

“Hello, it’s Y/N, isn’t it?” she says slowly, letting her hand fall from your shoulder as you sit up. Your brow furrows as you look at her and nod, unsure of how she knows your name. “I met you during our last visit to your court.”

Your mind races as you think about the last visit from the Inner Circle to the Court of Nightmares, though you don’t remember much. You do remember drinking one more glass of wine than your step-father had permitted you to drink, though, which had made him mad enough to throw you into your cell at the end of the festivities. He hadn’t even cared that you hit your head on the stone floor as he’d locked you up for the night, which explained why you couldn’t remember meeting the High Lady. But still, you nod at the woman in front of you, feigning a smile as she studies you.

“We aren’t here to hurt you.” the High Lord says from behind her, flicking a piece of invisible lint off his shoulder. “We just want to know why you’re here and who sent you.”

“I–I, nobody sent me.” you stammer, shaking your head as you hastily wipe a tear from your cheek. “I w–winnowed here because I came here once during my childhood, with my brother. We visited once and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. He–He told me this place was the Court of Dreams, I–I don’t know, I didn’t even know where I really was winnowing. I–I just willed myself to come here because I wanted to be somewhere safe for once in my life.”

“Safe?” the High Lady says, brow furrowed as she continues. “Were you in danger in the Court of Nightmares?”

Feyre knew the answer to her own question before she asked it, as Hewn City was not a safe place for many females like you, but wanted to hear it from you. Your lip quivers as your eyes flicker between the three fae in front of you, as you contemplate your next words very carefully.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” she says gently, reaching her hand out to hold yours, but you cower away from the touch quickly.

Your heart races, immediately regretting pulling away from the female. You flinch at your own quick movement, sure that she or one of the two males behind her are going to hit you for the mistake, but the blow never comes. Her hand retreats into her own lap instead, sorrow and understanding swimming in her eyes as she looks you over again.

“Would it be easier for me to read your memories instead?” she suggests, a sad smile on her face, “Rather than speaking about it out loud?”

You nod slowly at the female. Soon after, you feel a talon of power raking through your mind, making you gasp in shock.

It’s okay, she reassures you through your own mind, It’ll only take me a minute, I’ll be out as soon as I can.

You swallow harshly, but force another nod as she focuses all of her energy into the expanse of your mind. It’s not painful by any means, but it definitely feels weird to have someone snaking through your thoughts, to have the High Lady of the Night Court viewing your worst memories from your time in Hewn City.

As promised, she’s in and out of your mind in under a minute, leaving you staring at her with wide eyes as she looks to the High Lord who stands at her right. He gives her a knowing nod, as if they’re talking without words, and the High Lady stands up then. She looks down at you after standing, offering both of her hands to you in order to help you up. You hesitantly take her hands, slowly rising from the stone as she holds on to you.

“I’m going to take you to our home, to get you cleaned up and let you get some rest, if that’s alright with you.” she suggests.

You furrow your brow at her kindness, something you haven’t experienced in a long time, but mumble a quick thank you in agreement as she winnows the two of you from the dungeon.

__________________________

It’s well past dawn during the next day when you finally wake, squeezing your eyes shut as the light hits your eyes when you roll over.

You forget where you are for only a moment, shooting up in the large, comfortable bed to reorient yourself to your surroundings. You quickly remember that you successfully escaped Hewn City less than a week ago, and had somehow escaped interrogation from a very mysterious male and ended up spending the night in the home of the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court. The room you slept in was large and bright, the four-poster bed in the middle was large enough to accommodate at least four of you in all honesty.

Once you relax slightly on the bed, you hear voices outside your room, two that you’d come to recognize as the High Lord’s and the male who’d attempted to interrogate you, who you still hadn’t learned the name of.

“There’s no fucking way, Rhysand.” the male sneered, you could hear the frustration in his voice. “I won’t tell her, not like this.”

“Regardless of if you tell her, you will do as I say, you will ma–” the High Lord’s voice is cut off by a growl.

“Don’t.”

Rhysand sighs in response, and you can feel the tension carrying through the hallway as you listen in. No more harsh words are exchanged between the two, and a knock on your door shakes you from your trance.

“C–Come in.” you say hesitantly, unsure of what the males want from you.

It’s only Rhysand who pops his head in the room then, giving you a kind smile as he looks over at you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, to which you nod in reply, “Good. We would like to meet with you in the drawing room whenever you’re ready for the day. Nuala and Cerridwen left some clothes on the dresser for you, there should be any toiletries you may need in the en-suite bathroom as well.”

“T–Thank you, High Lord.” you squeak out, giving him a meek smile.

“Please, call me Rhysand, or Rhys, okay?” he requests.

“Okay, Rhysand.” you say with a curt nod, though it feels wrong rolling off your tongue. “Thank you.”

He smiles at you again before retreating from the room, leaving you alone to get ready.

Feyre had sent her handmaidens, Nuala and Cerridwen, up to help you get cleaned up the night before, but knew better than to do so now. You had broken down in tears when the females tried to help you undress, as the horrors of your past flashed through your mind at the feeling of someone else tugging at your clothes to take them off. Though you knew they meant well, you couldn’t help the places where your mind went in that moment. Feyre apologized profusely after, and assured you that you’d be left alone to get ready from now on.

So now, you get ready in solitude, slipping out of the sleep clothes you’d been given the night before. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror after sliding the shirt off your shoulders, the first time you’d truly looked at yourself in years. You were almost unrecognizable compared to the girl you once knew yourself to be, bruises and cuts littering your emaciated frame. It takes all your strength to finally look away, shoving down any emotions that threaten to bubble to the surface as you hastily throw on the black dress and matching shoes you’d been provided.

As soon as you’re dressed, you exit the bedroom and head down the stairs at the end of the hallway to make your way to the drawing room. It’s almost impossible for you to get lost on the way, as you hear multiple voices carrying through the home as you step down to the first floor.

You don’t expect to be greeted by seven fae adults and one child seated in the drawing room, all snapping their attention towards you when you walk into the room wordlessly. You recognize almost all of them as members of the High Lord’s Inner Circle, with the exception of the two females who look strikingly similar to the High Lady, since you’d seen them all at events in Hewn City over the years. The child sat in Feyre’s lap, so you assume the child is hers.

“Y/N.” Feyre calls, smiling softly at you as she pats the seat next to her. ”Please, come join us.”

You’re hesitant to sit at first, but the promise of sitting next to the High Lady, who’s been nothing but kind to you, keeps you from denying the request. All eyes are on you as you finally sit down, perched on the edge of the couch as if you’re ready to run away at any moment, not an ounce of trust in your body as you stare at the fae in front of you.

Rhysand goes through each person in the room, introducing you to everyone, ending with the male who tortured you in that basement less than 24 hours ago, who you now know is named Azriel. He only stares you down as he’s introduced, shadows swirling around his large wings as he sits perched on the arm of the couch opposite of you. You politely smile at everyone else in the room, but your smile fades as your eyes meet his, hurt replacing the fake-niceness you’d put on for the others. You swear you see a flicker of regret when you look into his hazel eyes, but it’s gone so soon that you’re convinced it wasn’t real.

“Right, now that introductions have been made, it’s time to discuss how our new guest will be fitting into the family.” Rhysand begins, looking your way as your brow furrows.

Truthfully, you’d assumed yourself to be a prisoner in this court despite their fair treatment. You’d assumed they would send you right back to Hewn City after giving you a good meal, that they’d send you right back into the grasp of your step-father, right back into the hell you’d lived before. But, it didn't seem like that anymore.

“Y/N, you will be moving into our other home named the House of Wind, where Cassian, Nesta and Azriel currently reside.” the High Lord explains, you don’t miss the way Azriel’s jaw twitches at the mention of living with you. “Although we are offering you a place in this court if you would like it, we cannot hide your presence from those in Hewn City, including your mother and step-father.” Your breath hitches in your throat at the mention of your family, heart aching as you think about what it would be like when they discover your whereabouts. “I will be informing Keir and your family about your choice to reside here, but I cannot enforce this without reason.”

“W–Without reason?” you ask, brow furrowed as you look up at the male.

“Although I am their High Lord and will assure that they do not disturb you while you are in my city, I will have to give them a reason to not do so.” he continues with a nod, “I will be explaining to them that you are to be wed, Azriel, and we shall claim that the reason you ended up in this court was because you were pulled here by your mating bond. Though, none of that is true aside from the fact that you two will have to marry in order for this ruse to work.”

Your chest feels like it’s going to give out as Rhys continues to speak, your ears ringing loudly as panic takes over your entire body. You don’t notice the way Azriel watches you closely, the way his shadows flick towards you in order to soothe your panic and calm you without the others noticing.

The male who’d nearly strangled you with shadows and threatened to kill you was to be your husband, your fake mate. You couldn’t believe the situation you were in, it all seemed so surreal. But in all reality, you knew it was the only way to escape the fate awaiting you in Hewn City. You knew it was the only way to escape the constant abuse from your step-father and his friends.

You don’t know how much time passes before you feel a hand rest atop yours, breaking you from your internal panic.

Feyre is staring at you when you finally snap back to reality, concern lacing her features.

This is strictly for show, you do not have to do anything with Azriel that you don’t want to. Feyre assures you through your mind, her voice soothing in the sea of screaming in your brain. I promise you that we will keep your safety and comfortability a top priority in this court, you are safe here.

You smile weakly at her and her mate, nodding slowly as tears shine in your eyes.

“I will send word that your wedding will be tonight,” Rhys replies, giving you a weak smile in return, “but that it is a private ceremony. Only we will be present, since the two of you just need to exchange rings, so no need to worry about any of them intruding.”

You blink back tears as you nod once more, the whole room silent as they watch you closely.

You look over to Azriel then, taking a shaky breath as you try to collect yourself. The second your eyes lock with his, he looks away and stands from the arm of the couch, storming out of the room quickly. Another round of hot tears flow down your cheeks then, not caring that these fae you’ve just met are seeing you sob, not caring what they think about you in the moment.

The only thing you care about is that you’re to be wed to a male who couldn’t care less if you lived or died.

Something twinges in your gut as you think about the hatred in Azriel’s gaze, heart aching as you worry yourself with the internal conflict of your new husband loathing you. You’re not sure why the hatred has you so up in arms, he’s only meant to be your husband for show, it shouldn’t matter, but you can’t escape the thought of how you thought marriage was supposed to be something special.

Before you can continue down your spiral of emotions, you shove your feelings aside and sit up straight, ready for your next instructions, because who were you to question your High Lord’s logic, right?

taglist (add yourself here): @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @famouslywaiting @teenagellamaangel @alliex-o @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace @feyretopia @mad-hatters-lover @kissesfromnovali @mulledwinetea

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fanfic

336 notes · View notes

alltheirdamn · 1 year ago

Text

DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

PART 3

Summary: Swear? On my life. Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4.1k Warnings: Pre-outbreak (AU), mechanic!joel, oral (f + m receiving), fingering, squirting, deepthroating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, spanking, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (darlin', babydoll, cowboy), rough sex, creampie, mirror sex, shower sex, playful banter and teasing, so much fluff it'll make your teeth ache, porn WITH plot now A/N: I really just want to thank EVERYONE for all the love on this lil fic. It was really only meant to be a small one-shot for shits and giggles and you guys just made it mean so much more to me ;') I hope I did their love story justice <3

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“I think this is the last of it,” you huffed, handing Joel the final box off the moving truck.

It had been six months of long-distance before Joel finally put his foot down and demanded that you move in with him and his daughter Sarah. It didn’t take much coaxing since you were just as impatient as he was to live together. You had been practically glued to your cell phone over those six months, always staying up late talking to him. You learned all about him: his career, his life in Austin, his daughter, and his wife, who had left him after she was born. You came to find he was a fantastic listener, too. He’d sit there and listen to you babble on and on about your job at the marketing agency and how traffic in California always pissed you off. Once in a while, he’d hum in agreement with your complaints but always found a way to shut you up with sweet words…or dirty ones. It was no surprise to you that he had a filthy fucking mouth when he wanted to turn you on…which happened all the time.

You followed him into the house and up the stairs to the bedroom, where he set the box on the ground. Exhausted, you flung yourself onto the bed, exhaling a sigh of relief to be done moving finally. Joel plopped down next to you, staring off into the ceiling fan with an even louder exhale.

“Not sure why you’re huffin’ and puffin’, babydoll. I did all the heavy lifting,” he said, his voice soft and teasing.

You rolled onto your side, glaring at him with sweat still dripping down your face.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” you grumbled. “I’m not used to this damn humidity. It’s almost fucking eighty degrees in December! This is ridiculous.”

“Aw, s’my girl missing the coast?” he feigned a pouty face.

“Fuck off,” you scoffed, rolling over to face the other direction.

“I’m just kiddin’, darlin’. I’m happy you’re here.”

“I am, too,” you sighed.

Joel moved with you, the steady warmth of his back pressing against your body. You nuzzled into him, breathing in synchronicity, a moment of stillness in the chaos. You were home.

“Joel,” you whispered.

“Yeah, babydoll?” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss against your neck.

“I need you.”

Moving your bodies in unison, Joel rolled on top of you, holding your face in his hands. He was softer than before, his eyes washing over you with a happiness you could only have dreamed of. You arched into his touch, pressing your lips to his for a slow, hungry kiss. His mouth moved on yours with such ferocity you had no choice but to surrender completely.

“S’all you needed, babydoll?” Joel murmured against your open mouth. “Just some attention and lovin’?”

“Maybe just a lil’ bit,” you confessed.

“Sarah’s not gonna be home from school for ‘few hours,” he mused. “Reckon, I can give you all the attention you want.”

You tugged at the hem of his shirt, giving him a playful grin. In a matter of seconds, you were both fully undressed. Joel leaned back on his heels, taking in your naked body spread across his linen bed sheets. His hand wrapped around one of your ankles, his fingers slowly sliding up your calf and thigh. He never took his eyes off of yours as his hands continued roaming over the curves and planes of your body; each brush of his finger a shockwave through your skin.

“If I ain’t the luckiest son ‘a bitch alive,” he shook his head, smiling down at you.

“You’re not too bad yourself, cowboy,” you replied.

Joel was fucking gorgeous…everywhere. You knew all this time he was broad and muscular under that damn black shirt, but seeing his bare chest on display was something else. A spattering of hair covered his chest and down his stomach, a dark trail of it leading to his hardened cock. Every inch of him was defined, yet so soft, from how his biceps tensed and flexed to the curve of his stomach as his waist tapered down. You wanted to spend eternity exploring each freckle and mole, connecting the space between them on his tanned skin with an array of kisses.

Cupping one of your breasts, Joel bent down to capture your lips again, his other hand falling between your inner thighs. Your arousal coated his fingers as he slid them between your legs, teasing you with the pad of his thumb against your clit.

“Can’t believe this is s’all mine,” he whispered into your ear. “You hear me, darlin’? You’re all mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed.

Joel’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes drawn to where his fingers worked at your body. You whimpered and spread your legs wider, urging him to keep touching you. You never wanted him to stop, never wanted these moments to end. Your hands tangled in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp.

“What ya’ want, darlin’? Use those words.”

“You…I—I want you,” you panted. “I want your cock, please.”

“Want it or need it?” He questioned, applying more pressure to your throbbing clit.

“Need it!” You cried.

Joel pushed two fingers inside you, stretching you out as he curled them deep inside you. He was teasing you slowly, pulling those embarrassing sounds from your mouth as you clenched around his fingers. Your body lit up as the pleasure built slowly, warmth spreading through your core. His fingers curled harder, hitting you at that blinding spot that made time suspend around you. All you could do was cry as the ecstasy swelled inside you, your hands clutching his neck to keep you grounded.

“Listen to those pretty lil’ sounds,” Joel hummed. “Fuckin’ love hearin’ ya cry out for me.”

“I—fuck! Fuck, Joel, please!” you begged. “God, please!”

“Please, what, darlin’? Y’wanna cum? Is that what ya want?”

You twisted your face into the pillow, muffling a scream as your body tensed up one final time before you were drenching him with your release, the sheets under you becoming a complete mess. Your walls clenched around his fingers, pulsing through each ripple of your orgasm. Joel pulled his fingers from you slowly, your body sinking into the mattress as you removed your face from the pillows. Gazing up at him with heavy eyes, you watched as he brought his pointer finger to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the digit. Enamored, you stared in stunned silence as he licked away your arousal. Drawing it from his mouth, he pressed his middle finger against your parted lips, coaxing them open.

“Taste yourself, babydoll,” he ordered.

Taking his finger in your mouth, you swirled your tongue, collecting the remnants of your cum. His pupils were blown wide as he watched you, the corners of his mouth twitching with an approving smile. He pressed his finger on your tongue, adding another as he pushed them further back.

“There ya’ go, darlin’,” he said, his voice rugged and dark.

You squirmed under him, needing more. A string of saliva dripped off your bottom lip as he pulled his fingers from your mouth, trailing them down your chin and throat. His hands reached down to hold your hips, flipping you over to your stomach. Hauling you onto all fours, he pressed the tip of cock to your entrance, giving you no time to prepare as he drove into you. The air was knocked out of your lungs as he buried himself deep, holding you steady until he started moving. And when he began moving… he was relentless. Your hands tried to make purchase on the headboard as he railed into you, his hips snapping at a violent pace.

Your orgasm was tearing through you in no time, your cunt squeezing his cock into a vice as warm liquid dripped down your thighs. Joel growled behind you, his fingers bruising your hip bones.

“That’s it, there’s my good girl. Fuckin’ drenching’ my cock.”

His hand came off your hips, delivering a round of slaps against your ass that had you wailing in pleasure. The sting of his hand on your skin was enough to send you over the edge again, that desperate need to cum stirring inside you.

“Joel!” you shouted. “I—I’m gonna cum again, please!”

“I know, babydoll, I know,” he crooned. “I got you.”

You white-knuckled the headboard, another rush of liquid gushing out of you. You were overstimulated and crying as he kept a brutal pace. Another spank, another drive of his cock inside you… over and over in repetition.

“Gonna fill this pussy up,” he grunted. “Y’want my cum, babydoll?”

Words wouldn’t form on your lips; you could only wag your head in approval, needing him to fill you full. Joel wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your body against his, your back meeting his sweaty chest. He slowed his pace, fucking you deeper and more rhythmically until he was panting in your ear as he caved into his release. You moved in unison, bodies heaving for air as the world dissolved around you. He held you against him for a minute, his teeth grazing your shoulder.

“Did so fuckin’ good for me,” he whispered against your skin.

You whimpered at his praises, letting your body sag into his embrace. Leaning your head back on his shoulder, you hummed in contentment, sinking into the press of his body against yours. Everything felt so right. Three little words were bubbling to the surface, but you swallowed them, too afraid to speak them aloud. You didn’t know if it was too soon; you were so caught up in the moment that you weren’t thinking straight.

“I think I need a nap after that,” you chuckled, leaving those words tucked away in your head.

“Bed s’all yours, darlin’,” Joel said, unsticking his body from yours.

You curled under the covers, his scent enveloping you as you nestled into the bed. Joel leaned down to kiss your forehead, smoothing out your hair. Through heavy lids, you gazed up at him and smiled.

“Get some sleep, babydoll. I’ll be ‘round the house unboxing stuff ‘til you’re up.”

“Thanks, cowboy.”

December passed by in a blissful blur, every day bringing something new. You had found a new job at a marketing agency in Austin, spending the usual 8-5 huddle in groups as you worked through different projects. Joel was always home before you, a plate of dinner waiting on the table for you and Sarah. You teased him constantly about the grease marks on his arms after his long days at work and made sure to tease you right back for the dress and heels you wore every day—which somehow always ended up with you naked on the bed, still wearing your stilettos as he fucked you into the mattress.

It was Christmas morning, and you were waiting downstairs by the tree with Sarah. You both had devised a plan to surprise him with a new watch; his old one had cracked at work while he was elbow-deep working on an old Mustang engine. He never mentioned needing a new one, but you noticed how he would absentmindedly look at his bare wrist at breakfast time each morning.

“You think he’ll like it?” Sarah asked nervously, handing over the grey box to you.

“He’ll love it,” you assured her.

You were nestled into the couch in one of Joel’s shirts and sweats, waiting for the man himself to finish up in the kitchen. Walking into the living room, Joel had his hands full with two cups of coffee and a glass of orange juice squeezed between the crook of his elbow. He grunted at Sarah to grab the glass of orange juice, extending the extra coffee mug to you as he dropped onto the couch cushions.

“Alright,” He yawned. “Let’s see what the fat man got y’all.”

Sarah tore into her presents, squealing at the heaps of new clothes and accessories she pulled from each box. You stole a glance at Joel, watching him look at his daughter with so much love and happiness. You had caught him giving you that same look from time to time, sometimes when you were walking out of the shower or when you were curled up on the couch together watching shitty action films. Maybe he did lov—.

“Open your present, Dad!” Sarah exclaimed, dragging you from your wandering thoughts. “We got you something special!”

“Y’did, huh?” Joel looked at you with skepticism.

You held out the box to him, shrugging with nonchalance.

“Surprise, cowboy,” you grinned.

He did a double take at the box in your hand, shock written all over his features. You looked over at Sarah, who was practically buzzing with anticipation as she waited for her dad to open his gift. Taking the box in his hands, Joel’s eyes shifted between you and Sarah, his big brown eyes softening.

“Y’all really ain’t had to do anything,” he protested. “Got all I need right here.”

You reached over to squeeze his knee, urging him just to open the damned thing. He caved, flipping open the lid to reveal his new watch. The wraps on the watch were made from military green nylon, and the face of it was made from black mineral glass that would be durable and long-lasting. It wasn’t anything flashy or extravagant; you and Sarah knew he’d hate that.

Joel wrapped his hands around the nylon, holding it as he sat silently. You craned your neck to get a better look at his face; his brows furrowed, and his lips downturned.

“You hate it, huh?” Sarah asked quietly.

“What?” Joel shook his head. “God no, sweetheart, I love it. Thank you.”

Sarah’s face perked up at his words, and she hauled herself up from the floor to give him a big embrace. You sat back and let them have their moment, enjoying the warmth floating around the room. Joel looked over Sarah’s shoulder at you, mouthing a soft thank you.

Of course, you mouthed back.

He squeezed Sarah one last time before breaking the hug, ruffling her hair as she pulled away. He worked the watch around his wrist, clasping it on and admiring it against his tanned skin.

“S’too much,” he mumbled. “Ain’t deserve these nice things.”

“Yes, you do,” you responded.

Joel shook his head, for once at a loss for words. Sarah glanced between you both on the couch and gave you a small smile before grabbing her opened presents and disappearing to her room. You turned your attention back to Joel, already finding his eyes settled on you.

“S’real nice of y’all to do this,” he sighed. “I really ‘ppreciate it.”

“She just wanted to do something special for you,” you said, scooting closer to him. “She loves you.”

“I know, I know.”

Joel hauled you into his lap, pulling your arms around his neck before his own settled around your waist. You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his before kissing his lips softly. Those words you had shoved down were coming back up again, crawling through your chest and banging to come out. You couldn’t wrangle them down this time.

“Joel, I—.”

“Don’t,” he whispered.

Your stomach dropped, the happiness you had felt crumbling away. Of course, it was too soon; you had been stupid to think he was ready to hear those words…or even reciprocate them. You chewed on your lip, trying—and failing—to hide your disappointment.

“Don’t say it,” he continued. “I wanna say it first. I love you, babydoll. S’fucking much.”

His features began to blur as tears fell against your cheeks.

“Swear?” You asked.

“On my life.”

Cupping your face in his large hands, Joel pulled you in for a deep kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip as you surrendered to his touch. Your mouths moved together, hands roaming skin, sounds escaping in breathy moans. You hadn’t expected to fall for him so fast—or fall for him at all. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did, and you were happier because of it.

“I love you, too, cowboy,” you whispered.

Later that night, Joel had you laid out on the bed upside down, your head dangling off the edge as you watched him above you through the mirror beside the bed. You could see his lips pressed against your stomach; you could feel the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

“Watch me, babydoll,” he instructed. “Don’t take those pretty eyes off the mirror.”

You groaned as his tongue glided over your clit, each lick soft and slow. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your whines, knowing Sarah was only a few feet down the hall. You kept your eyes trained on the mirror, watching as Joel’s mouth worked at your wet cunt. His nose rubbed against your clit as he plunged his tongue inside you, a traitorous moan falling from your mouth. His eyes connected with yours through the mirror, the brown in his irises nearly black in the dim lights of the bedroom.

“Quiet, darlin’,” he warned. “Be good for me.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised.

“That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth was back on you. He guided you toward the edge of your orgasm, keeping you suspended between bliss and delirium. You couldn’t hold on any longer, white-hot pleasure electrifying your nerves and spotting your vision. Joel kissed each of your thighs, raising his head to capture your gaze again, a lopsided grin plastered on his wet lips. You tilted your head up, the blood rushing back to the surface as you settled into the bed. Joel crawled up your body, caging you between his muscular arms.

“So damn beautiful, babydoll,” he praised.

“You’re not so bad yourself, cowboy.”

He smiled wider, pushing your legs apart as he lined up with your entrance. Breaking you open slowly, Joel rocked into you, his pace slow and sensual. You melted against him, the press of his skin on yours enough to send another wave of pleasure through your core. Your fingers flexed against the solid muscles of his back, his shoulder blades moving with each roll of his hips. Joel’s hand slid down your leg, cupping the underside of your knee as he hauled your leg higher, forcing himself deeper into you.

“Joel,” you whimpered quietly. “Feel’s so fucking good.”

“I know, babydoll,” he whispered. “S’like you were made for me.”

You were mindless as another spasm tore through you, your legs shaking around his waist as your mouth dropped open in a silent cry. Joel chased his release moments later, spilling into you with a quiet slew of curses and grunts. He peppered your neck and jaw in an array of kisses, nipping at your earlobe with a string of praises falling off his tongue.

He hauled you from the bed, carrying you into the bathroom, where you both stood under the spray of the hot water for nearly an hour. It wasn’t long before he had you pressed against the cold shower walls, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your body.

Into the late hours of the night, you found yourself wrapped around Joel, your limbs intertwined under the comforter's warmth. Your head rested against his shoulder, fingers dancing over the hair across his chest. Joel’s thumb rubbed circles around your shoulder blade as he pulled you tighter to his body. The smell of sex and cedarwood filled the air inside the bedroom, and your eyes drifted closed while you focused on the sound of his breathing beside you.

“I love you, Joel,” you sighed, nuzzling into his embrace.

“I love you, darlin’. Always.”

The months faded away, the air turning warmer as summer crept in. Work had been picking up as the seasons changed, and your schedule was always packed from start to finish each day. On a particularly sunny day, you found yourself free for the afternoon after a long morning meeting. Driving through the town, you turned onto a street far too familiar to you now. Aside from Joel’s truck parked in the garage, the mechanic shop was empty. Smoothing down your pencil skirt, you exited your car with a devilish idea in mind. The bells above the door chimed as you waltzed into the waiting room with a devilish grin. Joel perked up from behind the counter, setting down the newspaper gripped between his hands.

“What can I do for ya, miss?” Joel smirked, quickly feeding into your energy.

“Got myself a flat,” you feigned distress, leaning against the counter before him. “Can you help me out?”

“S’gonna cost ya,” he shrugged.

“I’m all outta cash,” you whined, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

“Gotta credit card?” he questioned.

“It’ll get declined,” you pouted.

Joel let out a heavy breath, scratching his neck as he took you in your exaggerated appearance.

“Well, that’s got you in quite the predicament.”

“A pretty big one, huh?” You stifled a giggle. He knew what you were implying.

“I reckon we can work somethin’ out,” he insisted, nodding his head towards the back door.

You followed him out to the garage, excitement bubbling to the surface. Joel leaned against the hood of his truck, tugging at your skirt to draw you closer, forcing you to stumble a bit in your heels. Wrapping a big arm around your waist, he pinned you to his body, his hand coming up to cradle your face.

“Y’sure are somethin’, babydoll,” he said before leaning in for a hungry kiss.

“Whatever do you mean?” you said sarcastically. “I’m just an innocent woman lookin’ for help.”

“Keep runnin’ that mouth of yours, darlin'. It’ll only get you in trouble,” he warned.

“What’re you gonna do about it, cowboy?” you taunted, running your hands under the fabric of his shirt.

Grabbing the base of your throat with a strong hand, Joel forced you down to your knees. You stared up at him obediently, an eager smile on your lips. With his hand still wrapped around your neck, he used the other to free his cock from his jeans, rubbing the tip of it over your parted lips.

“Better make use of that fuckin’ mouth,” he growled. “Since ‘ya need that tire fixed so bad.”

“I’ll do anything,” you pleaded.

You took him into your mouth, rolling your tongue over the head of his cock. The taste of salty precum swirled around your mouth as you took him deeper, eliciting a satisfied rumble from his chest. Joel jerked his hips forward, forcing you to sputter around his cock as he hit the back of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking him harder with each thrust of his hips. You reached up to cup his balls, running your fingers over the silken skin as he drove into your mouth over and over again.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, babydoll,” he instructed, his voice shaky.

You obliged, staring up at him with an open-mouthed grin. With a loud grunt and flex of his thighs, he coated your tongue in his release, some of it dripping off your lip. Your tongue darted out to catch it as Joel watched in a post-climax haze. His eyes were hooded and full of desire, and you could feel your cunt throbbing with need the longer he stared at you.

Standing on shaky legs, you reeled him in for a long kiss, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Joel deepened the kiss by twisting his tongue around yours, muffled sounds lost against your lips as he wrapped you into a tight embrace.

“So,” you drawled, pulling away from his hungry lips. “Think I can get that tire fixed?”

“I might be able to work somethin’ out,” he mused. “We can negotiate it over dinner.”

“Oh, you wanna wine and dine me now?”

“Damn right, I do,” he grinned. “Now, let’s go home so I can feast on you.”

“Take me home, cowboy.”

You both decided to leave your car parked at the shop and drive home together in his truck. With the console propped up, Joel had you pressed against his body, your eyes steadily watching him as he drove you home. Home. In the golden hour of sunset, you watched his eyes shimmer in flex of gold and auburn. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the silhouette of his face perfectly shadowed by the sun dipping below the horizon. He glanced down at you, a warm smile creasing the lines around his eyes.

“What’s that look for, huh?” He squeezed your hip, his other hand gripping the wheel.

“I love you,” you sighed.

“I love you, too, babydoll. Always.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #mechanic!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #one shot #joel miller pre outbreak

968 notes · View notes

mitalipingale · 11 months ago

Text

https://wehubspace.com/blogs/65894/Cell-Counting-Market-Share-Overview-Competitive-Analysis-and-Forecast-2031

The Cell Counting Market in 2023 is US$ 8.81 billion, and is expected to reach US$ 16.83 billion by 2031 at a CAGR of 8.4%.

#Cell Counting Market #Cell Counting Market Forecast #Cell Counting Market Trends

0 notes

thenationofzaun · 6 months ago

Text

Things I feel robbed of:

- Jinx hallucinating Silco's voice from Fishbones. This idea had a lot, AND I MEAN A LOT of evidence pointing to it, and they just did nothing with it. This is the one I'm most pissed off about just because of the sheer amount of actual credibility it had after S1. It would have fit so fucking perfectly.

- Jinx commiting crimes against Piltover with the help of her followers. Seriously, why would they bait me with the Jinxers in the marketing only to have them all be useless NPCs and Jinx do nothing major with them post-prison breakout. You're telling me she could have had actual GOONS, all dressing themselves in her image, and helping her commit acts of terrorism? She could have been serving BATMAN VILLAIN REALNESS and we got none of it??? Wasn't this girl supposed to be the Joker of League of Legends? She went from firing a rocket at the Council room to hiding in her lair playing with bugs. R.I.P. to the threatening and terrifying active protagonist she was in S1.

- At the very least we got a scene of Jinx organizing a mass breakout from Stillwater, but then we never got Jinx finding Vi's old jail cell? Imagine Jinx seeing carvings on the walls of Vi counting her days locked up in there, maybe some carvings of "Powder" too for extra angst. Jinx slowly realizing whose cell this was. Vi's time in prison was so irrelevant in this show it's as if it never happened.

#imagine if jinx actually graffitied something on the wall of vi's prison cell #some symbol that she was there. intending it to be empathetic and knows what vi went through.#only for vi to find it later after she and the enforcers heard of the prison breakout and came here to stop it.#and vi takes it the wrong way. she takes it mockingly. because jinx's attempts at kindness always come off as twisted even if she meant wel #another way the sisters misunderstand each other and their attempts at extending an olive branch always get taken the wrong way by the othe #because they don't know how to communicate with each other anymore #vi #jinx #arcane vi #arcane jinx #silco #arcane silco #arcane s2 #arcane league of legends #arcane season 2 #arcane critical #league of legends #arcane netflix

191 notes · View notes

tokoyamisstuff · 7 months ago

Text

gn! Reader | no warnings

Alucard

Walter

All dates take place after nightfall of course, letting you participate in his world.

He chooses a rather intimate setting, appreciating a good wine and deep conversation over anything fancy. Is a surprisingly great dancer and there's no room for discussion, you will get swirled around by him in a close waltz.

Shows you incredible places no human has ever set eyes upon, and loves to entertain you with his powers. It's nice using them for something good for a change...

Doesn't let you lift a finger and is always at your service. No need to feel bad, it's a pleasure to him.

Anderson

I imagine him being very active for his age. Will take you hiking or doing other challenging activities as bonding time. Is very fond of nature in general, probably does a picknick, stargazing or even swimming at a secluded lake.

Is a creature of habit, having favourite places to spend the evenings with you. People in there will all know you since you come so regulary.

To him, just about anything counts as a date as long as you're together. Likes to take long walks or just reading besides each other.

Unlike his usual impression he's a sophisticated man so shall he plan something, it'll probably be an art gallery or a cultural monument (preferably churches or other religious things).

He also enjoys corny stuff like christmas markets and classes where you handcraft stuff, pottery for example. Is horrible at it but will gift you the results anyways.

Maxwell

Free time is scarce to this workaholic, but he tries to make the most of it and spend every single second with you.

Luke Valentine

Man's exhausted, so he'd choose a spa day to relax together. Books one of those rooms with a whirlpool and other conveniences just for the two of you.

He won't talk much but actions say more than words, this man loves to indulges you in any way.

Jan Valentine

Treats you like a celebrity. Getting seen and showing you around are his top priority.

He's a very public-spirited person so expect to always be somewhere lively. Picks out what you wear and makes you meet lots of new people. Also loves showing you the world, taking you to different countries just for a day.

Puts a lot of effort in outwards appearance and reputation, but every date ends calm with just the two of you.

The Captain

There's not a single romantic cell in this body. Would probably visit a club going all out and stay in bed fucking you stupid the whole next day. That's it, that's his ideal date.

Be vocal about what you wish for and give clear instructions, then he'll gladly prepare whatever's on your mind.

Likes to brag, so you'd probably do stuff like bowling or him winning prices for you. Is the kind of guy who loudly declares his love for his amazing partner to anyone who didn't ask.

The Major

Not being very sociable he prefers staying at home. Brings you breakfast in bed and the two of you will stay in cozy clothes or naked the whole day.

Enjoys doing domestic stuff, for example simply playing card games, watching comfort shows or baking cookies. A taste of normalcry feels absolutely wonderful to him.

Will be very touchy the whole time, always needing his hands somewhere on your body.

This is a well prepared man. Knows it all and plans everything according to your taste.

If you let him decide, he'd definetly knows some special restaurants with great view or atmosphere. Books it out completely so you'll have privacy. With him you'll definetly feel special and listened to.

His hobbies include very old movies/history documentaries, building miniature models and hunting. Like in the literal sense shooting animals in the wild. Wouldn't force you to participate but it'd mean a lot if you at least show interest.

204 notes · View notes

spoiled-oatmeal · 9 days ago

Text

Mhin x AFAB! Reader (Anatomy Lessons) 🔞

Mhin x AFAB! Reader inspired by this post from @rabidprey. This one took me a while to complete, my last class for my Bachelor's degree started, so finding a balance also took away some of my time. But it’s finally ready. This is the first time I’ve written smut, so hopefully it's not too bad. I’ve spent so much time rereading and proofreading this I can’t tell if it’s good anymore, but I want to focus on other projects so I said fuck it. Enjoy!

MC is described with female anatomy, Mhin’s is left undescribed. The MC has hair long enough to tuck behind their ear.

*SMUT* MDNI!!

WC: 5,004

It’s been a busy night. Mhin’s started allowing you on their nightly patrols, or more accurately, stopped complaining when you showed up. But that might change after tonight. It’s not your fault, Mhin must have done something new with their hair, maybe got it cut or changed shampoos, they almost seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. You swear you were trying to pay attention to your surroundings, but every time you weren’t looking at them, you would see, out of the corner of your eye, the moonlight hitting them in such a way that it would be a crime not to stop and admire them. This lack of situational awareness resulted in an unexpected soulless attack and an upset Mhin. After enduring a harsh lecture that mentioned something about lacking brain cells and them leaving you behind as a soulless snack, Mhin proceeded to give you the silent treatment as you both made your way back to their dwelling. You would’ve thought that they were genuinely upset and wanted to be left alone if only they didn’t keep glancing behind them every few minutes to make sure you were still following safely behind them.

You’ve been to the place closest to what they would call a home a few times. It’s a small house squeezed between two larger buildings. Every time you’ve been there, you've nearly walked right past it due to it almost becoming invisible, overshadowed by its surrounding houses. Maybe that’s why they chose it as a place to call home, unnoticed and ignored, the perfect combination for privacy and silence. Mhin walks up to the door and pulls a brass key, embedded with intricate designs, from their cloak, unlocking it and leaving the door open as a silent invitation to enter. You’ve been here enough times to have an understanding of their routines when they get home. You quietly shut the door behind you and latch the various locks they've installed.

Inside their house is extremely minimalistic. Although calling it a house would probably be overzealous, it’s more like a small room. Walking from the entrance to the back wall can’t be more than ten steps. Inside contains just their basic necessities, lacking any decor, unless you count the books and scraps of medical supplies scattered around as decor. Their home consists of a small bed, a kitchenette, and a table that previously only had one chair, but a second one appeared after your first few visits. Mhin refuses to acknowledge this mysteriously appearing chair.

Upon entering their home, Mhin walks over to their kitchen, silently grabbing a kettle to brew some tea. Opening one of the small cupboards to pull out a small tin container, they told you that they have a small collection of different tea leaf blends that they occasionally find in the market. There was one night you managed to get them talking, and they revealed that they chose which one to try based on their mood. You always wondered what they drank when they were angry. You suppose today is the day you find out. The energy is still tense in the room; they're still upset that you managed to put yourself in danger, albeit without injury due to Mhin’s intervention. You decide the possibility of relighting their anger is better than sitting in the deafeningly silent room any longer..

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, quietly taking a seat at the table and keeping your head down, staring at your clasped hands in your lap. The clinking of cups and the crackling of fire that will soon be boiling the water in the kettle is the only response you get. You let the silence settle over the room again before trying once more.

“You were right, my negligence not only put me in danger, but also put you in harm's way.” You continue confessing your mistakes, hoping for their forgiveness or at least a response. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

They still don’t respond, but you hear the fire in their oven being put out and the sound of water being poured out of a kettle. Their footsteps approaching the table cause you to raise your head and finally look at them. They place one of the cups in front of you while taking their seat at the table. Despite them avoiding eye contact with you, lost in the cacophony of thoughts racing through their mind, you can tell they don’t seem angry; their face, almost neutral. That is, until you just barely see a minuscule muscle in their jaw start to tense. Without them telling you what they want from you, you’re left to guess. Maybe they’re tired. Maybe their still wired from the fight. Or maybe, just maybe, they were worried about you. Without Mhin giving you any more hints, you’re left to continue trying to guess the infinite things that could be running through their mind.

“How did you learn how to fight soulless?” you ask in the hope they’ll take the bait of conversation. Lucky for you, this question manages to make them finally make eye contact with you. They expected you to continue apologizing; a small part of them was wondering if you would start begging for their forgiveness. An even smaller part of Mhin was wondering if they would enjoy hearing you beg. You switching the conversation was just enough of a shock to pull them from their silent act.

“Practice,” Mhin says, leaning back in their chair, taking a sip of their tea, “I had to learn or else I wouldn’t survive.”

“Maybe you could teach me? Just in case you're not there next time,” you propose, mimicking their movements and taking a sip from your cup. Before the cup can even reach your lips, your nose is invaded by a strong, spicy, earthy smell. Cinnamon. You figured that with them being in a sour mood and being fresh from a fight, they would’ve chosen a more relaxing blend, maybe some chamomile or lavender. As it hits your tongue, the warmth begins to spread across your mouth, the spice of the cinnamon biting at parts of your tongue before you swallow. As the auburn liquid travels down your throat, the warmth begins to spread across your chest and leaves a soft warmth on your cheeks.

“Hmm, that's not a terrible idea, maybe learning something would help you stop being so idiotic,” they chide, drinking the rest of their cup before standing up from their seat.

You watch Mhin slowly make their way around the table, your eyes following their every move, before they stand behind your chair, resting their hand on the backrest. Their hand rises, thumb making gentle contact with your cheek. Your breath releases with a shudder, hands gripped tight around your cup. Their hand rotates to run the tips of their fingers over your cheekbone, guiding the stray strand of hair behind your ear. Mhin’s fingers drag, featherlight, down the side of your neck. Your head naturally tilting to give them as much surface as they desire. Until the gentleness suddenly leaves them, both hands find your neck and with a firm, but not painful grasp around the back of your neck, they force your chin to your chest. You feel them bring their thumbs dragging up your spinal cord. You let out a surprised gasp as they bring their thumbs up to the base of the skull, searching for something, but you’re not sure what.

“Do you feel this spot right here?” They massage their thumbs into the spot to accent their words. You know their fingers resting against the column of your throat can feel the swallow you take before you're able to croak out a response.

“Y-yes.” You manage to get out through almost gritted teeth. Mhin slides their fingers resting on your throat to the side of your neck and gently presses them into your skin, checking your heart rate. Checking to see if it’s beating just as fast as theirs is.

“This spot connects the brainstem to the spinal cord,” they instruct, while you feel the heavy blush that has been creeping over your face manage to get deeper. Their calm, confident tone they take when teaching does not make it easy to focus. Especially when your mind keeps wandering to the other activities their hands, currently around your throat, might be suited for, “severing that connection will immediately kill any creature.”

“Okay,” You mutter, eyes not being able to focus since every nerve is focused on Mhin’s firm grasp on your nape and neck.

“Stand up,” Mhin commands, quickly withdrawing their hands from your neck and stepping away from your chair.

Obeying their command, you quickly, without sparing a single thought, slide out of your chair and face them. Eagerly waiting for their next touch. Finally able to look at Mhin again, you see them remove the bracers around their arms and roll up their sleeves, revealing their forearms.

“Every creature has almost the same weak points, their heart and their brain being the most important,” Mhin instructs.

They seem more confident than you’ve ever seen them, like they're finding comfort in reciting their knowledge. And throughout your time knowing Mhin, although all parts of them are attractive, there’s something about confident Mhin that makes your heart rate spike.

“Maybe I should start with basic anatomy…” You barely manage to hear them mutter under their breath, trying to decide the best starting point for their lesson. Nodding to themself, they turn to you and begin to speak. “We’ll start with basic muscles and muscle groups. There are numerous benefits to understanding this basic part of anatomy. The muscles are made of thousands of small fibers woven together-”

You raise your hand to interrupt them before they get too far into their lesson, ”Wait, wait, wait, why are we starting with muscles? Isn’t this supposed to be for self-defense and killing soulless?”

Jutting their lips and raising one of their brows, not happy about the interruption. With a sigh, they make a proposition, “Instead of telling you, why don’t I just show you,” they say, bringing their left foot behind them and twisting their body with it, getting into a fighting stance, “try to hit me.”

“Wha-What?” You question in utter disbelief, this was not how you saw this conversation going. You start to wonder if you heard them wrong, but your eyes only confirm what they said.

“What are you worried about? It’s not like you’ll actually land a hit.” They say, with a ghost of a smirk on their lips. It’s almost as if they enjoy your confusion.

Their confidence calms your nerves; you know where Kuras’s clinic is, in case this goes wrong. With a final deep breath to push away the last of your nerves that scream at you to stop, you pull your fist back and throw your best punch. Mhin blocks the blow, pushing your hand out of its path while grabbing your wrist and side-stepping behind your back. Using their free hand, they place their hand on the back of your upper arm, twisting and pushing down with almost minimal effort. This movement, paired with their other hand around your wrist pulling it behind you, causes you to drop one knee to the ground. Using this momentum, you manage to break free of their grasp; it’s more likely they let you get out, but you’re willing to take a win where you can get them. You quickly stand up to continue your little spar, but before you can even turn around, you feel one of their arms wrap around your throat and their other arm caging in the back of your head, putting you in a chokehold. You attempt to grab their hands to try and pry them off, but your hands freeze as their grip tightens, resulting in their body pressing firmly against you. You can feel their arms hugging around your throat, their elbow tightens just right around your neck where you're not in any real danger, but your head starts to feel lighter for a variety of reasons. Mhin’s body is just barely a breath of distance away from yours, but every once in a while, you can feel the bite of their belt buckle dig into your back.

“This is why you’re learning anatomy,” Mhin whispers into your ear. Their breath tickles your ear, and you feel your face start to flush. Your entire body feels like pure fire runs through your veins. Every time your own clothes brush against your skin, it feels like an unbearable punishment.

You’ve felt arousal before, but nothing like this. This is punishing, like being stuck in a desert and looking at a glass of water you can’t even touch. Mhin might tolerate your presence for now, but you never know when the wind will change. And from what you know of them, it will change. You might wake up one day and have them decide that they’re tired of saving you… It might be better to avoid getting any more attached to them, but like a dog whining for a sweet piece of chocolate, you never stop wanting something that could kill you.

With a small huff of laughter that sends shivers over the skin it brushes over, Mhin releases you. You take a moment to try and compose yourself, knowing without a doubt that Mhin’s going to start their lesson, and your brain's still stuck, balanced between the dichotomy of wanting to taste every inch of them and to run away from possible future heartbreak.

Their words are a garbled mess of empty static in your ear as they begin to lecture again. You hear them mention something about muscles and the different uses they have, but your brain is so muddled with thoughts that their lecture becomes background music for your internal musing. You’re keeping your back to them as they keep talking, knowing that if you were facing their direction, they would be able to see your empty stare and blush immediately.

Their footsteps starting to approach your form cause you to finally manage to escape from your thoughts long enough to listen to their words. “There are some areas of the body where the nerves in the muscles are more sensitive; using these sensitive areas, you can create a distraction,” Mhin lectures.

“These areas are typically on the feet, neck, underarms, …” When you feel their presence at your back, their sentence starts to trail off. Suddenly, you feel their hands ghost over your mid back. Your hands jump back, preparing to grab their hands. The new access to your sides allows them to slide their hands around your waist, stopping at the bottom of your ribcage below your chest. “And the ribcage,” they say, dropping their voice into a whisper that ghosts over your ear.

“It’s rude not to listen when someone’s talking to you.” Mhin chastises, their hands slowly starting to creep upwards, causing your back to arch, pushing your chest forwards, ”especially when you asked them to teach you.”

“I apologize.” You manage to say with a shuddering breath. You bite your lips together in a futile attempt to steady your breath. You squeeze your legs together to add some sort of friction to the parts of your body that are growing the most needy.

“I don’t think you are,” they say, pressing their body into you, maneuvering their head to the side of yours, brushing their lips to your ear as they continue their sentence. “Maybe I should try another way of teaching you, a lecture is obviously not working. Maybe a more… physical demonstration will help you finally listen.”

Their grip on your body shifts, their left hand moves to have a firm hold on the side of your waist to stop you from moving, while the right flattens and the fingers spread against your stomach. Your hands hover to the sides of your body, frozen in shock at their intimate touch and their close proximity.

“This is called the rectus abdominis,” they mutter into your ear. Their hand slides down to your lower stomach, the tips of their fingers lying on top of your pelvis. “This muscle assists with movements between the pelvis,” They say, punctuating their words by applying pressure where their hand rests. Dragging their hand up your torso, stopping just under your breast, their hand perfectly framing it, thumb resting in the valley between both breasts. “ and the ribs,” They finish.

As their hand slowly slides, checking to see if you show any signs of discomfort, before finally cupping your left breast. The feeling of their hand slowly kneading your chest and their fingers teasing your nipple through your clothes, you can’t help but let out various whimpers and squirm, causing their left hand to squeeze your hips even further, keeping you pressed into them.

“This is where your pectoralis major is located,” Mhin breathily whispers, pressing their nose to your shoulder, muffling their words, “its main functions are keeping the arms attached and allowing movement in the humerus bone.”

The only response you can give is whimpers, moans, and the muttering of their name like your personal mantra. Mhin pulls away from your chest, pulling a groan of protest from you. But, before you can miss their touch for long, they quickly guide you to rotate your body, facing them. Finally able to see them, you see that their face is coated red with a deep flush, their eyes are half-lidded and staring deeply into yours, and their lips are parted, allowing their quick, shallow breaths an escape. They place their hands on your jaw and pull you close before kissing you, surprisingly gently when compared to their previous actions. Their lips pressed firmly against yours, but not making any attempts to deepen the kiss. That is, until they break away briefly to grab a breath of air, before quickly bringing their lips to yours. Their right hand slides to the back of your head, getting lost in the strands as their left hand drops to your hip, pulling you tighter against them. You make quick work of their hair tie, throwing it in the direction you assume the table is, allowing their snowy locks to fall over their shoulders. One hand gets lost in their hair with the occasional tug that earns you a muffled groan from Mhin, the other exploring their back, grabbing tightly to their shirt. As their kisses start to get more feverish and greedy, you find Mhin walking forward, pushing you backwards, forcing you to walk until your knees hit the edge of their bed. Before you can fall back on their bed, they grab your waist to keep you upright, breaking their heated kisses to take your shirt and start to tug it upwards, telling you what they want without saying a word. You tear your hands away from their body to pull the offending garment over your head. You attempt to take off your pants as well, but before you can get further than one button, Mhin gets impatient and pushes you onto their bed.

You attempt to push yourself onto your elbows to look at them, but before you can, Mhin parts your knees, crawling onto the bed, and hovers above you. Their hands start to explore your newly exposed skin while their lips start to kiss and mark your neck. Every fear you felt before has instantly vanished. The feeling of their lips brushing against your neck starts to feel more vital to your well-being than even the air you're breathing. You’re hands lacing in their hair and your legs wrapping around their hips, squeezing around them, encourage them to continue. After their lips bite on a sensitive part of your neck and their thumb brushes over your hardening nipple, your hips involuntarily buck into Mhin’s. One of their hands drops down to your hips as they start to roll their hips into yours. After marking your neck to what they deem an acceptable amount, they start to kiss past your clavicle towards your right breast.

You’ve long lost your ability to make a cohesive sentence, barely able to say Mhin’s name, followed by a variety of curse words and grunts. As Mhin’s lips finally make contact with your nipple, you let out a surprised hiss and groan, your hands jumping to hold their shoulders. They freeze. Mouth disconnecting from your skin, hands moving to the bed next to you, hips moving away from yours, stopping all friction. Mhin looks up at your face, eyes wide and jumping over every feature of your face.

“Did I hurt you? Was it too much? Do you want me to stop?” They bombard you with questions, misunderstanding your cry of pleasure as cries of pain. You quickly reply with a shake of your head, hands gently holding onto the front of their shirt. Their hands slowly move to gently cradle your face.

“Are you sure you’re okay to continue?” They say with their eyes still looking into yours, searching for anything telling them to stop. You manage a small nod against their hands. They close their eyes and gently lean their head until your foreheads are resting against each other.

“I need to hear you say it… that you’re okay… please?” they implore, voice slowly trailing off. You feel a slight tremor in their hands, were they just that worked up from your heated touch, or maybe they were just that scared that they had hurt you. Swallowing the saliva building up in your throat and taking a deep breath, you manage to find your voice.

“I’m okay, I promise. Please don’t stop.” You beg. Taking a deep breath, fully processing your words and pushing away the last of their fears, Mhin slowly leans away from you. They look into your eyes before dropping them to your lips, leaning back in for another quick kiss.

“Good. I got… distracted,” They pause searching for the right words before continuing, “but now I can continue our lesson.” They say with a sly smile fueled with newly renewed confidence, knowing you want this as much as they do.

Mhin brings their lips down to your again before breaking away to linger kisses along your jaw and neck before stopping at your chest. Leaving soft kisses against each breast before dragging their tongue over your nipple. They continue to kiss their way down your stomach, they slowly bring their knees to the floor, kneeling before the bed as they loop their finger into the waist of your pants, slowly pulling them off. As their lips greet the new skin being revealed, stopping at the band of your undergarments, their hands run over the skin of your legs, squeezing the upper thighs before running their hands back down your legs. Your head rolls back in the anticipation of their next move, hand resting on their head thats pressing kisses to the band of your undergarments.

They give a soft kiss to the mound covered by your underwear before looking up at you, silently asking if you’re ready. The nod you give is all they need before hooking their fingers into the waistband and finally revealing the entirety of your body to them. Seeing them take a deep breath through their nose and lick their lips in anticipation while staring at the last piece of your body they have yet to touch, to taste, causes your legs to reflexively close. Their hands catch your knees before you can hide their newly found treasure from them. Mhin’s glossy half half-lidded eyes catch yours and hold your gaze while they push your knees apart and slot themself between them. You can feel your slick, the evidence of your arousal, coating your lower lips and upper thighs. The breath Mhin releases near your aching core cools the liquid releasing in anticipation for whatever they give you next, the contrast between the almost unbearable heat from your aching desire and the cooling arousal making your eyes squeeze shut and your back arch in pure pleasure. Their hands slowly slide from your knees, traveling up your thighs, every inch their hands get closer to your core, you feel coils in your stomach tighten in anticipation of the relief only they can provide. Their hands stop at the point where your hips and thighs meet, sliding their hands into your inner thighs. Their thumb gently presses onto your lips, gathering your arousal before dragging it up your slit, teasing but not venturing any further yet. Their voice breaks you out of your haze of pleasure, pulling your head up only to look at them.

“This,” Mhin starts, gaze fixed on their ministration as they continue their previously forgotten lesson, they swallow the saliva pooling in their mouth before continuing, “is your labia majora, it protects the sensitive and fragile parts of the female anatomy.”

They finally press their thumb past your folds, dipping down to your entrance, gathering even more of your arousal. You can’t help the moans escaping from your mouth, finally fulfilling the dreams you thought you’d only be able to live while asleep, your hand slaps over your mouth in feeble attempts to quiet your cries of pleasure. The moment Mhin hears your noises become muffled their eyes shoot up to your face. As soon as they see your efforts to quiet down, they pull their hands away, crawling up the bed, hovering over you, and grabbing your wrist.

“Don’t-,” Their eyes look anywhere but your face, suddenly embarrassed with what they were going to say, “Don’t… do that. Hearing you lets me know you enjoy what I’m doing.”

They release your wrist, eyes looking into yours as a silent plea. Instead of a verbal response, you gently bring your hands up to Mhin’s face, cradling their cheeks. They tilt their face further into the palm of your right hand, you pull yourself up to them, and bring your lips to theirs. The kiss didn’t last long, but it was sweet, almost innocent, a jarringly different type of kiss you thought you’d have lying naked underneath someone. They pull back from you with a small smile gracing their face. They're amazed that, despite being cursed and constantly being at threat of soulless attacks, they can find solace and joy in you. They steal a few more kisses from your lips before they crawl back, settling into their previous position between your thighs. Before you can even lean back to enjoy whatever pleasure they plan on bringing you, their tongue delvies between your lower lips sliding from your slick hole to your throbbing clit.

Your hands instinctively jump towards their head, wanting something from Mhin to hold on to. Mhin continues to leave kisses on your clit, while their hands rub and squeeze your thighs encasing their head. At some point they start to lecture again between kisses and light sucks, but the blood rushing to your head and your moans drown out their voice. They keep making out with your second pair of lips, at one point adding their hand to further add more stimulation to your dripping hole. As the pressure in your stomach starts to build, the only thing you're able to say is their name on repeat. With the encouragement of your almost pleading moans, Mhin seems to get more confident and determined, their lips wrapped around your clit seeming to barely pull themself away to even take a breath, their fingers deep inside you finding and abusing the spot that has you seeing stars, and their unoccupied hand moving to hold your bucking hips with a strength you tend to forget about. As the pressure building in your stomach finally snaps, your hands tighten around Mhin’s hair below you, your eyes are squeezed closed as your head throws back in a silent scream, and your body stops bucking and twitching as your muscles suddenly contract. Despite bringing you to a mind-blowing orgasm that makes you worried you’ll never feel satisfied without their help, Mhin still hasn’t pulled their lips from you or stopped their fingers from stretching and pumping from your spasming hole. The drawn-out pleasure that they keep pulling from you feels like pure ecstasy as you feel the sheets start to get soaked beneath you. When the feeling of their touch starts to become too much, you glance between your thighs to catch the sight of Mhin pulling away from you before they bring their hand to their lips, licking them clean.

“MC.” Mhin says your name, standing up to grip your chin, forcing you to look right at them, stealing a kiss before continuing their sentence, “What all do you remember from our lesson?”

Your eyes widen, trying to glance at anything but them, which proves difficult as their hand is still forcing you to look at them, you try to rack your mind, trying to remember anything they taught you tonight. You’re mind is only filled with images of them between your thighs and the sensation of their lips on yours. If you weren’t fresh from an orgasm, you might’ve been able to forge a response that would’ve appeased them. Unfortunately, or rather extremely fortunately, your legs are still twitching from the pleasure they just ripped from you. Your only response to their questions is a variety of stuttering apologies as they look down at you in faux disappointment.

“Tsk, if you don’t remember, I guess I’ll have to teach you all over again,” they punctuate their sentence by grabbing underneath your knees and dragging you towards the end of the bed again. “We’ll see which happens first, you finally remembering my lesson or the sun rising.” While you might not have been able to get much sleep that night and were only able to walk the next day on wobbly legs, you were now intimately informed about your own anatomy.

#mhin #ts mhin #mhin x reader #mhin x mc #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved vn #touchstarved game #touchstarved

72 notes · View notes

yoongsriverandme · 4 months ago

Text

― THE PIRATE AND HIS LOVEBIRD || CHAPTER i

❝ So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake … At least I've gotta try …❞ - Labour, Paris Paloma.

⤑ pairing: min yoongi x fem!reader

⤑ genre: smut, fluff, angst, slow burn, s2e2f2l, enemies-to-lovers, action, pirate!au, royalty!au, found family, fantasy!au (kinda), historical!au.

⤑ wc: 4.8k

⤑ chapter warnings: period typical sexism and misogyny, heavy hints of emotional and physical parental abuse, arranged marriages, and light injuries! (lmk if I missed anything!).

⤑ author's note: ALRIGHT!!! CHAPTER ONE!!! uhh, yoongi is VERY mean in this first part, but it's not enemies to lovers for no reason!! 😁 (it gets better i promise!).

✑ masterlist | series masterlist | next!

⁘ preface: i only use bts as face claims! they are my muses, so anything they say or do, do not reflect their real life character!

There is only so much adventure that you can have in the palace.

When you were little, the world seemed bigger than it really was; the markets were always a little too busy, the palace halls crawling with maids and staff alike, but your favorite part was watching the cargo ships dock.

You would drag your vanity chair – which at the time had been a stool – and prop it up under your window where you would watch with stars in your eyes as unknowing sailors unloaded goods from the different regions.

You were caught once, basking in the way the sea breeze whipped at your face and kissed your cheeks. Your mother had looked almost angry as she stomped over to where you were suddenly cowering away from her.

“Get away from there!”

She had almost fallen out of the empty space with how far she stretched to grab the window’s handles. She slammed them shut so hard you were convinced she would have shattered the glass because of the impact.

“A life out there is nothing a princess should yearn for.”

The next time you went to open it, there was a lock that you couldn’t reach.

That did not seem to deter you, though, because you could still feel the uncontrollable wanderlust nipping at your heels, continually shaken by that familiar tingle that would run through your legs that encouraged you to go to sea.

Your curiosity was easier to contain when you barely breached five-foot, where sneakily wandering off would be extinguished by a pair of hands lifting you up and settling you on a hip, where classrooms would serve as a makeshift holding cell as you were kept in place by a tutor.

But as your teenage years crept upon you, you were an absolute nightmare.

Your rebellion had landed you forcibly locked in your room more times than you could count just because you had managed to successfully trick the guards that had taken you into town.

You were continually suppressed, with guards stationed outside of your drawing room because of your terrible tendency to skip tutoring.

More often than not, you could never get past the guards at the palace walls to get to the ocean, so you would instead choose to frolic amongst the flowers in the royal garden, then sheepishly reappear in the grip of a maid with the expensive cloth of your dresses obliterated by dirt stains.

It always felt like a race to freedom, because you were well aware of what awaited you when you came of age.

It was what every woman was expected of, royal or not; get married to a man of a respectable title, produce an heir, and be the polite, dutiful wife.

It was consistently drilled into your head every time you had done something to anger your mother: “Your future husband will never tolerate such a flighty woman.” You often recall her saying as she would watch your maids scrub said dirt chunks out of your hair.

You would spend many-a bath time listening to her scolding, much to your guardian’s chagrin.

Your parents knew their control was slipping, and that is when they stuck you with your now long-time best friend Kang Ji-ho.

It was obvious that he was to be groomed to be the next army General, seeing as though he had come from a lineage full of them, and you were his greatest challenge, his trial run: keep the runaway princess’ feet on the ground.

You had despised him at first, because even though he was a year or two older than you, you were expected to show him respect as though he was already ranked, and quite frankly, it was annoying.

He was usually the major foiler of your plans, always stepping in when you would gear up to sneak away, lingering in the background watching, waiting to spoil your fun and keep you in your golden cage.

You could feel him hovering, and you tugged the hood of your cloak over your head as you attempted to lose him in the swarm of people that were crowded in the cobblestone street.

For a moment, you thought you had succeeded, until you felt a presence behind you, and you couldn’t help but huff.

“You seem to be going the wrong way, Your Royal Highness.”

Ji-ho’s voice is void of any emotion, more factual than anything. He wasn’t taking pleasure in stepping in your way, he was just stating what he saw; but to you, it seemed as though he was more than pleased at being able to keep up with you.

“Yeah, yeah.” You all but hissed, crossing your arms and glaring at him. “It appears so.”

But it was in moments of isolation where you would come to learn that he wasn’t actually your enemy, just another kid like you that had been thrown to the wolves because you had been deemed uncontrollable.

The walls of the palace had served as a metaphorical hand on your throat and you felt the looming dread of your first official debut into society approaching.

You weren’t ready. You do not think you could ever be ready.

You needed to go out, for just a moment.

You stood outside of your bedroom door, eyes scanning up and down the halls for any presence of guards. This is as far as you’ll go.

At least, that’s what you had told yourself.

Then you saw the darkness outside from the glass window in the hallway.

You watched, enchanted as the moon’s glow rippled down the surface of the ocean, penetrating it with its beauty despite the body of water’s cruel tide.

Then you ran.

Down the hall, out the door and out the gates, all the way until your feet had finally hit the cool sand. You did not care if someone saw you, or how long you had left to bask in the unending presence.

You shivered, the air kissing at your skin like it had done all those years ago.

Looking out the window wouldn’t cut it this time.

You wanted more - no - needed more. More from this. More from life. More from the chains that bind you to a title and a duty that you do not want.

Tears burn at the back of your eyelids, and your fingers twitch anxiously.

Your skin burned, partly from the seabreeze stabbing through the thin cotton of your nightgown, but also the feeling of utterly helplessness at your fate.

There is a heavy thump behind you, and you’re well aware that you’ve been caught, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“I cannot go back.” You spoke, your voice cracking.

“Your Royal Highness.” Ji-ho spoke from behind you.

For the first time since you were kids, his voice wasn’t void, wasn’t factual, it was sympathetic, understanding.

“I…” You shook your head. “I cannot do this. This cannot be my life.”

You stared up at the stars, willing, begging for the sky to open up and take you away.

“Your Royal Highness…” Ji-ho’s voice trailed off.

There is a moment of silence and some rustling before a cloak is placed around your shoulders ever so gently. He’s careful to not caress your bare skin, and you are grateful for the peace offering.

You tug the furs tightly around yourself, and your eyes fall from the sky to the ocean in front of you.

“Do you ever wonder what it is like to be a bird?”

Ji-ho is taken aback. “A bird, Your Highness?”

“Yes,” You nod with a wet chuckle. “A bird.”

“I am… afraid I have not.”

“I have.” You let the atmosphere settle before speaking again. “A bird represents freedom.” You finally turn to look at him, and you’re surprised to find that he is in casual clothing instead of the usual iron uniform.

“You can put it in a cage for however long you desire, but once you let it go, it will always be free. It can get away from its captor. It can go anywhere that it pleases. There’s no duty tying it down. Just the wind beneath its wings and the water underneath its feet.”

You allow your friend to understand the weight of your words, its double meaning. His face softens ever so softly.

“It sounds like a wonderful life to live.” Is what he says, matching your quiet tone.

“Yes… it does.”

Of course, your best friend was not always such a stick in the mud, because as you blossomed into a young woman and him into a handsome gentleman, he would occasionally humor you in your schemes now that he was stronger.

“You are supposed to be in tutoring, Your Royal Highness.” Ji-ho’s voice holds amusement, though it doesn’t show on his face.

You know he is feeling playful by the slight tug at the corner of his mouth, so you decide to push your limits.

“You may be right, but does the weather not just feel excellent today?” You ask as you tuck your arms behind your back and turn your face upwards so that the sun’s rays can warm the skin there.

Ji-ho regards you with a raised brow, and you stand there until he cracks.

“What do you want from me?” He’s being informal, and you know you’ve won.

“To distract my mother for a bit while I galavant amongst the flowers.” You say mischievously.

“I will do thirty minutes and then you return to your studies.” You pout. “Just thirty?”

“Do you want to make it twenty?”

“No, no! Thirty is fine, I suppose.”

“Wonderful.” Ji-ho says with the faintest smirk.

He’s more lenient on leaving you alone in places within the walls of the castle, but when it comes to public endeavors, he was a bit more protective. You have grown used to the hovering, however, so it doesn’t really bother you anymore.

There is one place you can rarely go, but Ji-ho tries his best to get you there, despite your parents’ strict ruling.

Moments where you are allowed to go to the sand are few and far between despite you being an adult now; not only because it was dangerous, but because your parents knew what it would do to you.

They knew you craved the ocean, they knew you sought out the freedom and new experiences that could only be fulfilled on going on a voyage, and they’d be damned if they ever let you step foot off of the island.

You would take what you could get, even going as far as sleeping with your bedroom window open just to hear the rise and fall of the waves meeting each other.

Awakening to the seagulls call was more than enough for you given your circumstances.

You felt a bit suspicious though, because lately the King and Queen have been more lenient to your rebellion. Instead of where your knuckles would be red for your misbehavior, you have not received more than a slap on the wrist.

And now you understand why.

Their “kindness” never comes without a price.

You had just come back from horseback riding, Ji-ho’s horse following close behind as you basked in the smell of the outdoors.

You were damp with sweat, and your heart that sat nestled in your chest raced something deadly, but you couldn’t be anymore invigorated.

There was a large smile on your face as you swung off your horse, riding boots landing harshly on the coarse earth as the animal huffed and puffed.

“Great job, my love.” You encouraged the older mare, running your gloved hands through her caramel mane.

“Beom-soo!” You called out to the man that took care of the horses. “Please give my girl some water and feed. She had a great run today.”

The older man takes off his straw hat to run a hand through his hair, a deep smile on his face as you place the reins in his awaiting aged hands. “Will do, Your Royal Highness.” And he leaves with a bow.

Ji-ho is dismounting his horse, and his actions appear to be slow, slower than the usual calculative movements that he makes.

“You were slow today, Ji-ho.” You tease lightly. “Please do not tell me you are losing your touch.”

The man huffs, throwing you a side long look as another attendant comes and retrieves his stallion. A strong horse, that one is. Ji-ho’s had him since he was a baby, he has taught him well.

“Ah… I am just distracted.”

Your wide smile dims a bit in worry, but before you ask, your maid Sana appears hesitantly, looking around the barn for a moment anxiously before landing on you. There’s relief on her face as she approaches you.

“Your Royal Highness,” She bows at the waist when she greets you, and you bow your head in a quick nod. “Her majesty has asked me to retrieve you and prepare you, for there is a guest due to arrive any moment now.”

You don’t notice how Ji-ho tenses next to you.

“A guest?” You question with furrowed brows, and you cast a quick glance to your friend, hoping he may have some answers. He avoids your gaze, which worries you more.

“Yes, Your Royal Highness. Against my better judgement, I must urge you to hurry. Your mother was quite… miffed at your absence this afternoon.”

You sigh heavily. “When is she not miffed when I do anything?”

“I am afraid I do not know, Your Royal Highness.”

You make one last attempt to silently communicate with Ji-ho, but it seems to be of no use.

“Very well.” You begin to pluck off your riding gloves and throw them over one of the railings.

Sana blushes at your blatant disregard at the action, but Ji-ho just huffs.

“Let’s get this over with.”

You are surprised with how fast you are bathed and dressed, whiplash gripping at your tendons as your hair was styled comfortably.

Soon enough you are dropped off at the doors of the drawing room, and the guards next to the door reach for the handle on either door.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess (y/n).”

The sight you are met with displeases you greatly.

Your mother and father are sat across from a random man - who is sitting on your favorite love seat - the table between both couches sits tea and a wide range of sweets and snacks while they await your arrival.

“Mother…” Your eyes are stuck on the man for a moment before they drag themself to her.

She already looks like she’ll have your head if you make an attempt to embarrass her, so you force your feet to move and approach them.

“(y/n),” Your father begins. “I would like you to meet Prince Kim Ha-Joon, the heir to the Northern Kingdom’s throne.”

You blink wildly when the man stands up and bows deeply at the waist and your mom cocks her head in a motion for you to do the same. You’re a bit hesitant, but you oblige.

“A pleasure to meet you.” You speak unsurely.

“As I you.”

The man is a bit older than you, probably five to ten years, his age already showing on his face with deep wrinkles, and yet no crows feet on the corner of his eyes nor smile lines. No show of any happiness expressed.

You are instantly put off and you spot Ji-ho in the corner, and when he finally meets your gaze, he looks truly and deeply sorry.

“I am sure you’d be quite pleased to hear that Sir Ha-joon-ssi here comes to ask for your hand in marriage.”

The words that came out of your father’s mouth makes your heart stop, and your eyes widen as the feeling of existential dread pours over you like a bucket of water. The blood in your veins is ice, and you feel sweat begin to form at your hairline.

No.

This cannot be happening.

You thought you had more time.

Time to at least try and find a love match.

But it appears that the metaphorical timer is up.

“Is he now?” You finally muster up the courage to say, and your legs twitch. “That he is.” Your mother’s voice is hard, daring you to protest.

“Pardon my blunt words, sir, but are we… to be arranged to wed?” You ask in disbelief. “Ah,” Ha-Joon starts. “That is so, yes. But I have every intention to court you beforehand.”

“I…” Your voice fails you, and bile threatens to rise from the back of the throat. You swallow the burn down.

It is getting harder to see. The walls are closing in and the floor is heating up, like hot coals under your soles.

You have to leave.

You have to get away.

“I… excuse me - I do not mean to be crass but, I must use the washroom first. Then, I will be happy to continue this conversation.”

Your mom looks like she is about to throw herself at you, but your father simply puts an arm around her dress draped waist.

“Very well, but make it quick.”

You bow quickly.

You do not bother to look behind you as you take off down the hallway in a brisk walk, and you know you have a limited amount of time before they send a fleet of soldiers after you.

You constantly look over your shoulder for guards as you descend the stairs, daring to take two or three of them at a time before you make it down to the main foyer.

You all but slam into the large double doors as you slip on the long carpet, wrenching them open and shooting down the steps. Your shoes meet the crisp marble loudly, clacking and possibly alerting the other’s inside of your escape.

Your feet beat into the hard cobblestone wildly, the heel at the end of your lifted-flat digs into the bottom of your foot.

You don’t stop running as you pick up the trails of your dress; the lace trim manages to accumulate dirt and it flakes off behind you, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

The sun is high today, and it beats down on you unforgivingly.

Your legs burn and your feet cry out in protest but you do not dare to stumble, even as you finally swear and kick off said flats, effectively abandoning the expensive footwear.

It’s not like having your stocking covered feet on the heated stone below you is any better, but you manage to gain momentum as you finally make it to the crowded streets below.

Citizens aren’t able to get a good look at your face due to how fast you are moving.

You accidentally shove someone out of the way, but you don’t have much time to apologize, though, because you can see some of your guards alert and looking.

The time frame that you had to escape somehow shrinks and before you know it, you unconsciously carry yourself towards the docks.

It’s funny how life ends up to be a full circle moment, because now, you are left with the option of swimming fruitlessly or going back to the palace and being sold away to a man you do not know.

Neither sounds very appealing, if you were going to be frank, and you think for a moment that you’re doomed, until you see a seemingly empty ship sat stagnant, the plank settled against the side of the large boat and the wooden walkway.

You carefully waddle up the makeshift bridge, and you hiss at how hot the shined wood below you is, and you find yourself lifting up the trapdoor that must go down to the rooms in the hull.

The busy chatter of the lively streets above you turn into muffled background noise as you descend, and you dodge hammock beds that swing for no reason other than just because the ocean commands it so.

It is deathly warm below, the only thing breaking up the stifling heat is the occasional creaking and rocking of the ship, followed by a fleeting sea breeze.

You don’t know what to do from here, but you find that you do not regret where you have ended up, because when you peek out of one of the circular windows, you find a group of royal guards speaking to civilians, possibly inquiring about your passing.

One turns their gaze up to the exact ship you’re in and you gasp and duck, pressing your back up against the wall.

The adrenaline coursing through your body causes your hands to shake as you pull your foot towards your body.

The sheer stocking that had been serving as thin protection is torn, the dark gray material completely destroyed, but they served their purpose. The skin on the bottom of your feet is cut up and achingly raw.

There are little specks of blood and dirt wedged into the open wounds, and you clench your teeth when you force yourself to wiggle a pebble out from one of the slits.

There is not much to do when you find yourself injured on a random ship, but it doesn’t take you long to decide that you shall rest here until the search settles down and you’re able to slip away to the palace to discuss that you will absolutely not marry some random prince.

You do not care what allyship this commencement may bring; whatever idea they have about your future is not how it is going to go.

You don’t realize that you have fallen asleep until you are roughly ripped out of your slumber from being snatched up by the arm.

The person’s grip on you is tight and painful, and the room that you are in is so dark that you really can’t see much through your sleep ridden gaze.

The only light illuminating the hallway are lanterns hanging off of hooks on the wall, but even then, that does not help to see who your captor is.

“Unhand me!” You cry out desperately, your free hand coming up to claw at the one holding you.

The man grunts in pain as your nails bite into the skin, but he jerks you forward and you stumble.

Your fighting is of no use, because all of a sudden you’re being dragged up, up, up through the trapdoor and deposited mercilessly onto the wooden floor.

Your hands attempt to break your fall, and a sharp pain shoots up your wrist.

You are quick to sit yourself up and cradle the joint to your chest, frantically looking around and instantly feeling like prey.

There are men. Not a lot of them, but enough for you to feel threatened.

There’s seven of them by the looks of it.

You desperately search your surroundings for a means of escape, and it’s only now that you realize that for one, it is night time, the only thing lighting up the seemingly dark abyss is thousands of tiny little glowing holes poked into the atmosphere.

And two, you aren’t on land anymore.

You vaguely register the sound of the waves crashing against the side of the ship, the same ship that you had climbed upon earlier that day.

Oh, you’ve really done it now.

The man that awoken you breaches your field of vision and -

Oh.

He is beautiful.

Devastatingly so.

The cruel ones are always the prettiest.

“Who are you?” He sneers.

The man is small, yet deeply contrasted by his soft yet sharp features; his jaw angular, his lips bleeds through his roots, but his aura echoes of violence and danger, one that screams… pirate.

Someone on a merchant or cargo ship would not have treated a woman so foul unless they lived like the rules of the world did not apply to them.

Suddenly, everything makes sense.

You do not have much time to ponder this new revelation, however, because there is a sword at your neck, the razor-edged blade nearly cutting into the delicate skin there.

“I asked, who are you?”

The longer you take to respond, the angrier he gets, and he descends upon you, just a step, but it’s enough to send you tumbling back.

What are you to say? ‘Oh, I am the runaway princess of the Southern Region. Please, ignore me.’

“I - I am just a maiden.”

“Just a maiden?” He scoffs a disbelieving chuckle, “I find that hard to believe.”

You’re conscious about the presence of the six other men, and you are half tempted to look to them for help, but you fear that if you turn your neck too fast, you would slice yourself clean open.

“It is true.” You insist, your eyes narrowing.

“Tell me how a maiden somehow finds herself on my ship. Below the deck no less.”

“I am injured, you ruffian.” You snarl, and he looks taken aback by your insult, before his face crinkles in rage.

There were a few snickers that had sounded from behind you, but they quickly stopped when murder illuminated the man’s irises.

“I will not tolerate such disrespect. You forget yourself, girl.” He growls. “Your life is in my hands, and if I did not know any better, it would be against my better judgement not to end your life now and throw your useless corpse overboard.”

Your heart thuds against your ribcage, the same way it had when you had fled from the palace.

Yet, when you went to say something that may have furthered your foot in your - hopefully - metaphorical watery grave, one of the - you could only assume - crew members chimed in.

“Hyung.”

Said ‘hyung’s attention is stolen from you for just a moment.

“What?”

“I do not think it reflects well on your character to murder a helpless woman.” Your savior says in light amusement though there is a chide hidden within the undertones.

The sword wains just enough that you take the chance to scoot back slowly away from the threat;

“That does not matter when it comes to the crew's safety, Taehyung. For all we know, she could be a rat, or a distraction for an attack.” The sword rises to your face this time. “I will not take any chances. “Helpless” maiden or not.”

‘Taehyung’ flounders for a moment, and then his face lights up once more, seemingly with an idea.

“Were you not just complaining about the lack of numbers amongst us?”

The man is confused. “I do not follow.”

“Well… if she says she is a maiden, then that must mean she knows how to clean, right? We could do with the extra pair of hands, is that not right Jungkook?”

Jungkook sputters, and he’s obviously the youngest member on the boat with the way his cheeks flush at the sudden attention.

“Do not drag me into this!” He all but hisses.

“You are the carpenter! Would it not be helpful to get all this useless flack out the way so you can make the repairs easier?”

Jungkook looks considerate, but almost afraid to answer. “I… I suppose it could be nice.”

“See, Captain? He said it would be nice.”

“And I would be grateful for an extra pair of hands in the kitchen.” Offers a broad shouldered member.

“And a fresh set of eyes for my maps.” Adds a man with deep craters as dimples.

“And we can have more defense!” Says a surprisingly beautiful boy - which really is not that surprising, because you would be an idiot not to notice how attractive this whole crew was. It was unfair, truly.

But ah, so he’s the Captain.

Another piece of the puzzle that connects inside your mind.

The Captain is stupefied, like he almost can’t believe he’s being undermined, but you have a feeling this is a normal occurrence.

“We don’t even know her,” He tries to reason. “Who's to say she isn’t a danger to all of us?”

You finally chime in. “I am afraid I cannot feel my feet, let alone take on seven pirates who are equipped with swords and pistols.”

“See?” Taehyung continues to push.

“I…” The Captain flounders.

He seems to crumple, sheathing his sword and not even bothering to spare you another glance.

“Fine.” He sighs. “But if she screws up, I will kill her, and the blood will be on all of your hands.”

“I would not expect anything less!” Cheers Taehyung.

The man turns away, giving his back to you, but he seems to think better of it and returns to his original position.

He regards you with a deep, soul shuddering glare. “My name is Captain Min Yoongi, and welcome to my ship.”

You take the small sliver of courtesy as he stalks off towards what seems to be the Captain's quarters, slamming the door shut loudly behind him.

You have a feeling that this is only the beginning.

ᶻz taglist: @mar-lo-pap

86 notes · View notes

astarionancuntnin · 1 year ago

Text

Die For You (Chapter 5)

summary: astarion takes care of you following the events at the ball.

rating: E (smut chapter!)

word count: 4.5k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader)

cw: 18+. smut, hurt/comfort, soft!ascended astarion, flashbacks of traumatic events (from previous chapter), consent is hot, soft dom!reader, porn with feelings, power play (if you squint), passionate lovemaking, light teasing, p in v, blood/vampire bites, creampie, aftercare. full list on ao3

Masterlist

previous chapter

read on ao3

next chapter

or keep reading down below~

But if I touch you, would you feel it there?

Could I trust love even if I'm scared?

Oh, I wish I could give like I'm longing to give

Oh, I wish I could live like I'm longing to live

The ride back to the palace is dreadfully quiet, with nothing but the sound of the wheels against the ground as the carriage is being moved around. The night is cold, but you still have Astarion’s coat covering your shivering form and his arm wrapped around you protectively, providing you with a reassuring warmth. You’re still shaken by what happened and how helpless you were in that moment. Hells, you were strong – maybe not as strong as Karlach – but you were able to hold your own on the battlefield and yet you got overpowered by this poor excuse of a man? How could this happen? How did you let yourself get in that situation? Despite not wanting to think back on it, you remember what Astarion had told you that first night spent in the cells. Was it true then, that his spying on you assured your security during all those months spent apart? Were you truly as hopeless as he envisioned you? Were you not as strong as you believed yourself to be? And gods damn, how did he manage to capture you so easily back then, and why had you not confronted him about that too?

You’re taken out of your rumination as you reach the crimson palace, and he brings you to your bathroom where he calls for Amedee to prepare a bath for you before dismissing her to take care of you himself. He opens a drawer filled with the best essential oils the market can offer, taking the time to pick the right one. He approaches you and tugs at the lace down your waist, which makes you turn abruptly, still anxious from your earlier confrontation. He softly asks, “May I?” and waits until you give him a few nods, unable yet to speak, to undress you with the utmost care. With your outfit now disposed of on the floor, he takes care of removing your jewellery, placing them aside on the nearest table, before letting your hair cascading down your back. You stand in your most vulnerable state in front of him, with your crossed arms barely covering your chest.

He moves between you and the bath, holding out his hand to help you in, his eyes never leaving yours. “Come now, love.” You stare for a few moments at his inviting hand before taking it to help lower yourself in. The relief is almost instant; all the tension in your muscles leaves as you make contact with the warm bath water and the scent of lotus flower hits you all at once, allowing you to relax. He reaches for a sponge that he dips in the bath before pushing your hair aside and lightly scrubs your back and shoulders. With the silence shared between the two of you, your mind goes back to what happened earlier, replaying the scene in your head over and over again, wondering: what could you have done differently? In another reality, was there any way for you to avoid what had happened? Deep down, wasn’t this your own fault for voicing an opinion at the wrong time? You could’ve avoided that encounter and that dance outside altogether if you hadn’t spoken just at this moment, you could’ve avoided it if you just kept to yourself for once, Gods dammit, why did you always have to open your damned mouth?!

The emotions overflow you and soon, a sob escapes you; you hate how all of it is making you feel powerless, how this single experience is making you question your whole identity. You hate how it happened so fast, how preventable it all was, but most of all, you hate yourself–

“Shhh, it's okay, you’re alright dear.”

You had almost forgotten about Astarion up until now, his voice yet again grounding you back in the present, bringing you back to safety. You sniffle, trying to calm the tears enough to speak up. Your voice is tainted with a roughness from your previous cries, “Why didn’t you kill him?” You don’t really wanna talk about what happened, but it was unlike him to let someone like this go unharmed.

“There is a time and a place for such things; a ball with the most influential figures of Baldur’s Gate was not it.” He says, dipping the sponge back in the water and squeezing it over your shivering shoulders to bring them some warmth. “Then again, it didn’t stop him from attacking you,” he grunts, “but believe me, I won’t let this bastard get away with this. All in due time.” He takes a deep breath, bringing your hair back to soak it with the help of a small bucket. The anger in his voice created a strange contrast with the attentive care he offered you.

“How did you know I was hurt?”

“Your blood, dear. I could recognize it from miles away.” You bring your hand to your neck where the knife has been; it had completely slipped your mind that you had been cut. “The second I smelled it I… I expected the worst. I came as quickly as I could.”

A sudden guilt washes over you, thinking back to the previous month. “I don’t understand why you’re doing all of this… I’ve been horrible to you ever since you brought me here.”

“A little, but wouldn’t you say I deserve it?” You hum quietly through your tears and a smile appears on his lips for a just moment. “I wasn’t exactly… gentle, in my approach, but I stand by what I said about wanting what’s best for you. I don’t see why I would go back on my word, now of all time.” He continues, now soaping your hair.

“Even after knowing I would leave eventually?”

“My feelings for you remain the same no matter where you go, darling.”

You nod thoughtfully; he might’ve been terrible in his approach, but he’s also shown countless times how much he cared for you, even after many months apart. It makes you think back to the first discussion you had with him, in the dungeons. “I still can’t believe you had me kidnapped.”

“Can you really blame me?”

You turn around abruptly, almost offended by his question, “Yes? What prevented you from just coming up to me to talk, y’know, like a normal person?”

“Well, to be fair, you had been avoiding me like the sun at the reunion, I wasn’t expecting you to willingly talk to me. You have to understand my side darling; it felt necessary.”

You sigh heavily, leaning back against the wall of the bath, “All of this because you couldn’t move on.”

Your tenacity makes him smile again. There you were: the fighter that he loved, the woman who stood up for herself. “I did really try, if you must know. I wanted to respect your choice to part ways, move on and build my empire with someone who matched my ideals!... And never have to see you again.” His extravagant tone suddenly changes to a serious one, “But I couldn’t bring myself to commit to anyone else. Every time I tried, I would look at them and I could only see… you. You were never afraid to stand up to me, unlike the others.” He chuckles, “You still do.”

You stay silent, taking in his confession, as he washes out your hair before standing up with a clean towel.

“Let’s get you ready for bed, hm?”

You look at him with tired eyes before raising yourself from the water and linking your arms around his neck as he picks you up. You find yourself observing his face for any sign of malice, anything that would tell you that his intentions weren’t pure, and you can’t find any. You’re not sure if it reassures you or terrifies you the most; to know he has been truthful all along and that you outright refused to see it. He lays you down on your bed and moves away to search your wardrobe, looking to find you clothes for the night. As he makes his way towards you with a dark blue satin night robe, you find your voice again.

“I know you said all those things, but you could have anyone else so easily… Someone who doesn’t argue with you constantly…”

He lays the dress at your feet and sits on the edge of the bed. “My sweet, if I wanted someone who blindly agrees to everything I say, I could have anyone. Turn another spawn and choose them as my obedient little puppet. I could have a thousand like them. You, on the other hand, challenge me everyday. No one could ever come close to you, my love.” He sees your eyes looking away, and he reaches for your cheek, stroking it softly. “When I saw you at the reunion for the first time in what felt like an eternity, I wanted nothing but to have you back. I crave you like I crave the sun’s embrace, Gods, I was alive again after hundreds of years and yet, I’ve never felt more alive than by your side.” He drops his hand to take yours, holding it firmly, and you look back at him. “If I could have anyone, I would still want you and only you. If you just let me take care of you, we could be so good together.” His voice is low and deep, it resonates through you, draws you to him. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Your gaze falls down to his hand with yours, avoiding his eyes, and you groan, those conflicting feelings frustrating you. “I don’t know what I want, alright? I–” You trail off, your words escaping you. “When I left you, it’s because I felt you had changed. I thought I had lost you to that ritual, that the man I loved was gone, but now…” Your eyes find his again, and he looks at you with a kindness you missed. When you speak again, your voice is but a whisper. “I don’t know anymore… I spent so long regretting helping you through the rite of ascension, I really thought it had turned you into a monster, I–” You close your eyes and a silent tear streaks down your cheek. “I thought I had lost you.”

He reaches out to wipe it away and you open your eyes to look back at him. “Oh darling, I never left. It was always me, simply better.” His voice is the softest you've ever heard. If you weren’t looking at him when he spoke, you wouldn’t believe the words came from him. “What I did, I did for us. With my powers, I can assure both of us security, forever, and that’s all thanks to you.” He pauses, drawing you closer to him. “You gave me everything. I will spend every day of my eternal life thanking you for it, in every imaginable way. Whatever your heart desires will be yours.”

You hold his stare as much as you can through your stressful blinking. He’s gotten incredibly close to you and you feel your chest rise higher as your breathing quickens, the tension between you two becoming unbearable.

You look into his eyes, and you see it then: there he is, your Astarion. The same vulnerable pale elf you had ventured and shared nights with all these months ago. Under these layers of newly acquired powers was hiding the man you fell in love with, and tonight you had found him, at long last. You let go of a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in and your eyes quickly dart to his mouth, lips still parted from speaking up, and in an instant, your lips meet in a passionate and rough embrace. All the tension, the longing and lusting leaves your chest, pouring into this kiss. Your hands get lost in his hair, pulling him in as he pushes you down against your bed, his hands landing next to your head.

You’re gonna regret that.

Panic settles back into you, the memories flashing back into your mind and you push Astarion away, breaking the kiss suddenly as your breathing quickens and your eyes get lost elsewhere. You’re back in the garden, with the nobleman from the party.

“Darling?”

His weight upon you, the dagger against your throat, his hand sliding up your thighs.

“Love, look at me,” he tilts your head upwards, and you snap out of the flashback, finally back to Astarion. “Hey, it’s me. You’re here. You’re safe.”

You sigh heavily, your breathing coming back to you gradually. The emotions within you are overwhelming; you’re terrified and enraged, yet, with Astarion you’re reassured, you’re content, you’re… in love.

Look at how much he cares for you, you think to yourself. He wishes for nothing but your wellbeing. He wants to be yours, and only wishes for you to be his. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?

“Do you want to stop?” he asks, worried by your lack of words. “Just say the word and we can end it there.”

You blink quickly, briefly not trusting your vision following the last seconds that happened and your hands sneak their way over his face, caressing his cheeks. The softness of his skin, the surprising warmth emanating from him…

You shake your head; you need this. You need him. “Stay with me…” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to be alone… please.”

His hand covers yours, and when you look in his eyes, you see what he's trying to say with unspoken words: anything for you, you have nothing to fear with me, I've got you my love.

As the tears overflow you, you bring him back into you, crashing your lips together. Your kiss is messy, with your tongues dancing with each other, both of you wanting more of the other, your teeth biting and pulling, with his fangs grazing your lips everlightly, drawing out the slightest drops of blood just to have a taste. He groans in your mouth at the taste of your crimson and his hips grind against your leg, pressing his growing erection on you as his carnal lust awakens.

“Gods, I’ve missed you,” he says, with a ragged breath.

You feel as if you were possessed, your arms flying to the helm of his shirt, pulling to free him from this cage that his clothes provided, yearning for his touch that you couldn’t wait any longer to feel. Without breaking contact, he quickly removes the rest of his own clothes and discards the wet towel you were previously wrapped in, revealing your delicate skin underneath. The second both of your clothings are off, you push Astarion down on the bed, climbing over him and pinning him down by his wrists.

“There you are, my little spitfire,” he purrs.

When you see a grin forming over his lips, you can’t help the smile forming on your own lips. You pause to admire him, taking in the sight of his dishevelled hair, the lust in his eyes; you missed this, missed him.

You close the gap between your bodies, laying your forehead against his, and say your next words through a ragged breath, “You have no idea how much I want to ravish you.”

“Take what you need, darling. I want you to have control, to feel like you’re in charge of your own body again. I might not have been able to stop what happened tonight, but I want to be the one who empowers you once again. I want to help you like nobody could for me. Tonight, your word is my command; I am yours.”

To have him at your fingertips, following your every word… His words stir something within you, to see how utterly devoted he is to you makes you want to truly make him yours. You can barely believe the opportunity he’s giving you, given the last time you spoke about the subject was after your visit at moonrise towers. You never had the chance to have another talk about his boundaries, but that was also before he became the vampire ascendant. You take his hands to guide them over your thighs, intending on taking up on his offer, “Touch me.”

“How,” his hands remain still on your thighs. “Don’t be shy now, little love. Tell me exactly what you want.”

You lean over him again, your lips barely apart, and you whisper your next command, “I want your hands to caress my skin.”

His hands start moving over your strong thighs, touching every inch there is to discover.

“Guide me,” he whispers. “I’ll only do what you instruct me to do.”

“Move over to my waist.”

His hands travel higher, sneaking over your hips ever so slightly.

“Where to next?” He hums.

“Up and down my back…” He reaches for the highest point of your back, down to the frontier of your ass, only grazing your cheeks.

“I want to feel your nails on my skin.”

His grip on you changes, with his nails now softly scratching over your skin, “Like this?”

You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation. “Mh, harder.” His nails sink into you and you throw your head back as your back arches. “Ah– Just like this…”

Your breasts are now hovering near his face and with each breath you take, they draw closer to his mouth. He could easily cave into his desires and devour you right then and there, but as promised, he waits until you give him his next instruction. Luckily for him, you needed this as much as he did, and neither of you were patient people.

“Now your mouth… over my breast,” you reach out to grab onto his hand scratching your back to put it over your boob. “And squeeze this one.”

As he lifts himself up, his mouth latches on your nipple that he relentlessly sucks on, while his hand massages the one you had guided him to. His fangs lightly scrape over the soft skin of your breast and you softly cry out before giving him your next command.

“Lick your way to my neck,” your voice is but a whisper by now.

Slowly, his mouth leaves your boob and he leaves a faint trail of saliva over your chest as he makes his way to your precious neck. Your hips rock back and forth, only slightly, relishing in the delicious friction you get from his length between your wet folds. Astarion wasn’t going to complain, but he felt like you could take it further, should you desire it.

“If you want something else, you can take it,” he purrs against your neck. “What's mine is yours.”

The temptation to simply take him in was too good to resist, but it’s not something you would allow yourself just yet. The friction it provided over your clit was almost better than having him inside you, and his reaction was even better. Teasing him brought you more satisfaction than you expected and you intended on drawing it out as long as you could. He growled against your neck, only nibbling on your skin there and you could feel how his hips jerked in reaction to your teasing. With your next order on the tip of your tongue, you’re taken aback from the realisation that you wanted this from him. There’s a part of you that’s terrified of what might come out of this, but the rest of your being desires nothing more.

“Bite me.”

He leaves your neck to look into your eyes, not believing the words you had just said. He needed you to say it again, to confirm he didn’t imagine it out of pure madness. That you, the woman he desired most, desired him just as much; just like you used to. Then, when you see the way he looks at you with devilish want, you allow yourself to take what you’ve been wanting for days. You lift yourself up and you position him over your entrance before slamming your hips down, crying out as you take him fully in one thrust. He groans loudly when he enters you, throwing his head back at the feeling and you take this chance to grab his luscious hair and pull back, hard. When he looks back at you, his eyes have gone dark with lust and the thread of control holding him back has gone so thin that it threatens to break at any moment. You repeat your command between two breaths, reasserting your dominance over him.

“Bite… me.”

You guide him towards the spot in your neck where you missed him most before releasing your grip on him. He kisses the spot in the crook of your neck that he knew all too well one last time, finding your pulse and sinking his fangs into your soft skin. As he drinks you in, your mind blanks out, completely lost in the euphoria his bites provided you, and all of a sudden, you’re back at your days spent camping, when this was moreso about necessity, when you gave yourself to him, when you would’ve given him everything. He’s still drinking when the next words slip past your lips between two breaths, completely unaware of the effect they would have.

“Tell me… tell me you love me.”

His teeth leave your skin and he pulls back to look at you, as if he was looking for something you weren’t saying out loud, and if he wasn’t looking at you then, he wouldn’t believe what you had asked of him. Nevertheless, he complies; as he is yours forever more, and you were his for tonight.

“I love you.”

Your half lidded eyes are completely lost in the sight of him with your blood on his mouth, and before you can think about it, your lips are on his, tasting him, tasting yourself, taking everything he has to offer, but also offering yourself to him. You didn’t want to let go, to break the proximity you had longed to share for so long, but the lack of air forces you to pull away. When he looks at you again, you’re stained from your blood, and two fine lines drop from where he bit you.

“I'll take down the moon and stars for you.”

He grabs onto your hips as he begins to thrust upwards, and you let him, too dizzy to think of taking back that control or giving him a new command. He could have the reigns now, you had proved to yourself that you were whole, and this experience brought you even closer to him, the closest you had ever been.

“I'll love you until the world burns down.”

Closer than this and your bodies would fuse together, your minds would meld as one, losing yourself into the other. Ultimately, love, no matter how twisted it had become, had brought you back together against all odds.

“I would burn it down for you if you just asked.”

And you loved him, gods, you hated how much you loved him despite all he had done, despite capturing you to bring you here. You promise yourself that you will bring it up again, make him right his wrongs, force him to–

“I love you.”

One of his hands finds its way to the back of your neck, cradling you closer to kiss your skin between each declaration, and it pushes aside any thoughts you previously had. He repeats himself with a ragged breath, and each time he tells you he loves you, it's with more and more conviction. His pace gets more frantic as he lets himself come undone for you.

“Love… I’m close…” He says, panting.

You pull him into another kiss, knowing you’re nearing the edge of ecstasy too and you’re reaching for any more contact you could have. You couldn’t care for words anymore, but you knew what you wanted, and you would take it, regardless of what he had done in the past. For tonight, you forgave him, and you accepted this form of apology from him.

“Fuck, ah–”

Feeling him shooting his hot seed inside of you is your unbecoming. With a few more strokes, along with his cock twitching inside of you, you finally go over the edge. As the world becomes silent, you scream in pleasure, finally letting go of all those feelings you had bottled up over the last days. The build up in your belly reaches your heart, and there’s something of an explosion in your chest, fireworks in your head, and you see stars for a mere moment. When you come down from your high, you let yourself fall over him, completely spent, with your head hiding in the crook of his neck.

You stay like this for a while, with him still inside you and you resting on top of him, allowing yourself to catch your breath, and he holds you close as if you were but a fleeting image that was going to vanish, but by now, you had no intention of leaving.

The way he strokes your hair aside so casually makes you yearn for more of it. It feels so intimate, the tenderness of it all making you feel as if you had never been apart, not for an instant.

“So much for getting you clean earlier, mh?” You laugh quietly in the crook of his neck; had you known the night was going to take such a turn, maybe you would’ve waited before taking that bath. “Now, let me take care of you, the way you deserve it.”

You groan, too tired to care about getting clean, and when he sees that you had no intention of getting up, he lifts you up himself to carry you to your bath. He calls on Amedee once again to get new warm water, and this time he hops in the bath with you to clean you up. You hum, content with the way he cared for you so dearly, and once you’re both clean, he takes you out of your bath to dry you up. He carries you back to bed where he tucks you in and the moment he turns to leave you stop him.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Eager for more, are we?”

“My word is your command – remember? Stay.”

Your words are direct, but your voice is soft and your eyes are almost pleading with him; he can’t find it in himself to refuse you. As he joins you in bed, you hold him close, resting your head over his chest once again, and you let yourself be lulled to sleep by the unfamiliar sound of his calm heartbeat, along with the crackling of the fireplace.

Can I move you? Can I soothe your fear?

Could you trust love, if I prove it's there?

Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3

tag list (comment or message me if you want to be added!): @grimistheangerinmystares @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @nyx-knox @anacdoce @jwera

196 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 1 year ago

Note

Prompt: Danny’s birth was an accident.

A lab accident, to be precise.

The problem with researching something as esoteric as ghosts was that you had to source all your own materials. If you wanted to know how high ectoplasm concentrations affected human cells, you either had to buy from ethically dubious medical supply companies or use your own.

Maddie used her own. Or Jack's. They worked together, and he was fine with it, so it was essentially the same thing, ethically, if not biologically.

Either way, they kept a whole variety of tissue samples, sourced from themselves. Cheek swabs, bone marrow samples, skin, hair, a tooth Jack had to get pulled, blood, serum and whole, a couple biopsies from different organs, spinal fluid, sperm, a collection of egg cells.

If they were going to market their inventions as family friendly and safe, they needed to know it wasn't going to render anyone sterile. They had Jazz already, and one child was quite enough, but other people might want more. Or assurances it wasn't going to mutate their children, before or after birth. Although in Maddie's opinion, that was quite ridiculous. Ectoradiation was quite different from electromagnetic radiation, or alpha radiation, or other traditional types.

So, that was what Maddie was researching now. Eggs and sperm. She wasn't about to do anything fertilized, of course. Too many ethical problems. But she would put a different concentration of ectoplasm in each test tube for one set, then duplicate those concentrations for the second set, then set up some eggs in one set of vessels, and a sample of sperm in the other, then run them for the same amount of time. Fourteen with eggs, fourteen with sperm. A bit of an odd number, but that's what happened in independent labs. Test tubes broke, and then if you wanted to control your experiments, and keep everything the same, you had to do things in odd numbers. Or buy new test tubes. But the more time you spent shopping, the less time you spent experimenting.

She started with the eggs. One by one, putting them into the the test tubes. One... two... three... four... bottom of the column... five... six... seven... eight... bottom of the column... nine... ten... eleven... twel--

"Maddie! I'm taking Jazz out to see you know who for you know what!"

"Dad!" said Jazz, her two-year-old voice squeaky with outrage. "I know we're going to the doctor!"

"Oh, right!" she called back. "That was today, thanks you for remembering, hun!" Usually, she was the one of them to remember important dates, but Jack was really on top of things for Jazz. It was nice.

"No problem, Mads! Good luck with the mutation experiment!"

"Thanks!" She turned back to the rack of test tubes. Now, where was she? She'd just finished that row... She had sorted them by row, hadn't she? Of course she had. So, she should start with the sperm. Right

She picked up the pipette and started from the top of the column. One.. two... three... four... She kept going, until she hit fourteen, and still had two test tubes left.

Well. That wasn't good. She must have-- Had she overlapped? Or had she just not finished filling the egg test tubes? If the latter, she could just put the last two eggs in the last two test tubes. And label them a little more carefully. She rearranged her worktable and peered into the container she'd carried the thawed eggs over in.

One. One unopened egg.

Hands shaking slightly, Maddie counted back to the thirteenth test tube. The one with the second-highest concentration of ectoplasm. The one that she had almost certainly put both an egg cell and sperm into. She pulled it out of the rack and set it in an empty one, then sat and stared.

This was a serious mistake.

Oh, she knew she could just dump it out in the sink or in the biological waste box, or any number of other things. Even moving at their fastest, sperm took a while to get into an egg. It might not have gotten there yet. And even if it had... Few people would consider a single cell a human being. But... Maddie had been raised Irish Catholic. She couldn't...

She sighed. Before she got carried away, she needed to check to see if it had even... taken, she supposed she should call it. If there was any life there. The ectoplasm could very well have acted as an inhibitor.

She licked her lips and reached for a microscope. First, find out what had happened, then talk to Jack, and then... then they would decide what to do. Together.

#admittedly some garbage science #danny phantom #ask #answer #prompt #prompt work #prompt fill

156 notes · View notes

sinisterexaggerator · 1 month ago

Note

Can I ask for Cad Bane x FTM reader hcs? SFW and NSFW, no limits. Maybe a fic if you're in the mood? I'm on anon because I'm shy.

Hello, anon! Hopefully, you will like this. I did my best. This is my first try at a ftm reader insert! Feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are all appreciated if you feel they are deserved! I will take correction and advice for THIS FIC ONLY. It's important to listen to the target audience. <3

---

A Good Story

Cad Bane x Trans Male (AFAB) Reader

Summary: You are a bored weapon's merchant on Fondor, a planet located near Devaron; Cad Bane has a date with Bolla Ropal at the Jedi temple and is in the market for something special—but you have the nerve to try to rip him off. Bane has money, and you're in need—surely he won't bat an eye at the high price tag?

Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for double-penetration and finger-fucking. Bane goes in both ways. I also make use of the words cunt and dick in relation to genitalia. There is a mention of the reader wearing a binder.

Word count: 4.5K +

Ao3

God, you were bored.

Fondor was a planet with little to do save for your dead-end job, lonely nights spent nursing bottom shelf brandy in some dingy, hole-in-the-wall cantina, unable to escape the smells of the shipyard. It reeked of tibanna, oil, tar, and rust, the odors having long since taken up residence in the vibrissae of your nose, lingering there, giving you no short reprieve—even after a shower.

Still, that wasn’t even your work. The Clone War was getting closer to your rocky home world with every passing day. It made sense. You lived in the Colonies, situated within the Inner Rim; threats from the Separatists loomed just beyond your backyard, populated with important trade routes.

It appeared Count Dooku, the leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, had the idea that Fondor should join his ranks. The Republic now vied for your attention but talks led nowhere—no one wanted to join Dooku willingly.

That’s where you came in.

Well, sort of.

“Good choice,” you praised the buyer of a DL-22 blaster pistol, the man placing the sum of five-hundred credits into your outstretched hand.

“Best to be armed nowadays,” he said dismissively, looking down the barrel of his newly acquired, high-priced toy.

The DL-22 was designed by BlasTech Industries and packed quite a powerful punch. A high-quality focusing crystal had been utilized by the weapon’s manufacturer to increase the damage output of the pistol’s blast bolts. This resulted in a reduction of the gun's stun setting, but most found the exchange to be well worth it.

“Can I interest you in any extra power cells? Carts? It only comes with the one up front.” If you had learned nothing else from this job, it was that your boss demanded you try to upsell every customer who walked in off the street. You resented him for that, but you also liked the extra commission when things worked out.

“Nah, got some back home.” The man was already holstering his purchase, aiming to walk out the door.

“We have a three rotation return policy,” you said, more as an afterthought. The man nodded he understood, then left.

You sighed. You wondered how much longer until your next customer. Sometimes, hours passed, and you would not see a single soul. It wasn’t that you minded, but the time seemed to drag on endlessly. There was only so much you could do on your datapad; scrolling through newsreels after a while became demoralizing.

You had just begun to read an article about Wilhuff Tarkin, the governor of Eriadu, when the door chimed. You found a stopping point at the end of the next paragraph and looked up, a habitual, customer-friendly smile having crept across one side of your face.

Then, it fell clean off.

A Duros strolled into your shop, the echo of his boots filling your ears as he sauntered across the duracrete floor.

That was the word for it, sauntered—he was strolling with what could only be described as a kind of confident detachment, a wide-brimmed hat hiding the fine details of his disposition, though you saw he was sporting the tiniest hint of a snaggle-toothed smirk.

You cleared your throat. “Hello, welcome.”

He said nothing, coming ever closer, causing the skin on the back of your neck to prickle. He seemed familiar, somehow, though you couldn’t quite place it. His short walk ended as he set the pads of all ten of his fingers down flat across the countertop, just to the right of the register—you wondered if he meant to rob you blind.

You allowed your eyes to travel the length of his skeletal frame, taking in his well-worn ensemble; the tightness of the leather; the glint of the metal accoutrements; the creak of the material as he tipped marginally forward, putting all his weight on one leg as he bent his knee, shifting his stance to one that was more casual.

Then, his chin rose. The face that was revealed startled you to the point you gasped. You sucked in a quick inhalation of air, filling your lungs before you refocused, this time on his eyes.

They were two austere, gleaming red jewels inlaid among the bluest scales—severe in appearance, surrounded by scars of varying depth and length.

Fuck; he was handsome. More attractive than he had any right to be. And his mouth—you suddenly couldn’t take your eyes off it, or off the two tapered fangs that peeked out at you from lips that were dry and cracked. But you thought it didn’t matter—you would kiss those lips if he asked you t—

“—In de market fer somethin’ special.” He interrupted your train of thought for another to take its place. His voice was like something you had never heard before, rough while at the same time smooth and sensual; he was as easy on the ears as he was on the eyes, and he had your full attention.

“Oh?” you asked, doing your utmost to stay calm, to come off as nonchalant. “And what might that be?” you inquired, genuinely curious, though hoping he wouldn’t surprise you with a request that was outside your wheelhouse. You realized that even though you did not know his name, you would hate to disappoint whoever this man was.

“Projectile launcher,” he started, pushing off the counter to stand up straight. He was a tall drink of water, enough to quench your thirst, though staring at him seemed to have the opposite effect. You felt as if you had never been this thirsty in your life. “Fer a cortosis shot.”

“Cortosis ore?” You felt the question had been a dumb one on your part, no sooner than you had asked it.

The Duros’ brow twitched, raising upward toward one side. He folded his arms and stared you down with those cold, crimson eyes, wondering what the hell else you thought he might be referencing.

“Problem?”

“What? No. No, we uh—” You released his heady gaze to glance back down at your datapad with some reluctance. “We have several weapons in stock that might suit your needs.”

You pretended to sort through your inventory, but you had just begun a search for Duros—ones that might be in some form of media, or on the news.

“Yeah? Like what.”

Why was it suddenly hard to swallow? Why did you feel so warm? You felt the blood rushing to your face, unable to curtail the onset of what was presumably anxiety, your finger adeptly scrolling through the holofeed as fast as the device permitted.

“Depends on what you’re after—something compact, something a little flashier—” Your eyes widened as you caught sight of a report some few days back; this Duros had been the one involved in a break-in at the Jedi temple. An APB had been put out for his capture—Cad Bane.

He was considered to be armed and dangerous. That much was obvious. But why was he here now?

“Somethin’ good ‘nough te disarm a Jedi,” came his reply. You looked back up and returned your datapad to the counter. His gaze was measured, calculating.

“Find anythin’ interestin’ on dhere?” the bounty hunter growled, eyeing you with evident suspicion. You panicked, pressing a button alongside the glowing screen so that it would blank out and go dark.

“Many ... something's,” you said awkwardly. You may have been scared shitless, but you weren’t stupid. Not entirely. Stupid enough to use this situation to your advantage, though, or at least stupid enough to try.

“A-a Jedi?” you inquired, trying to keep the fear from your voice, but ultimately changing the subject. You hoped against all odds he hadn’t seen what you had last been looking at.

“What Ah said,” he snapped. “Show me.”

“Right! Sure!”

You scampered to the back, looking amongst the shelves for the blaster you knew you had in stock. You used this moment not only to find something that might please the Duros, but also to catch your breath—your heart was pounding as you came to terms with who was waiting for you, yet you knew the man had money. Lots of it.

“Cad fucking Bane,” you whispered to no one in particular, staring blankly at a row of pistols, your vision nearly blurring as you practically disassociated—unable to believe that the galaxy’s most notorious hired gun had just waltzed into your meager storefront, and on a day you happened to be working.

“What?” came a low note in your ear.

You overtly jumped, turning around, terror-stricken and at a loss for words.

The bastard was right behind you! How had he done that? How did you not even hear him approach?!

“Shit, man! Don’t—don’t karking do that!” you said without thinking. The Duros narrowed his eyes, withdrawing a toothpick he had on his person somewhere, retrieving it from out the corner pocket of his coat.

“Do what,” he asked flatly.

“Sneak up on me!” you panted, gasping for air.

“Wastin’ my time,” he rasped, placing the scrap of wood between his teeth. It was plain as daylight he was losing his patience, yet you had only exchanged a few scant words.

“OK, look. I’m sorry—it’s—it’s not every day Cad Bane walks into my shop.”

“Well, dhen teday’s yer lucky day, innit?” he asked, sarcasm lacing his tone, the Duros speaking from around the inserted toothpick resting gingerly betwixt his fangs.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” You forced yourself to calm by thinking one thought only—if he wanted you dead or to hurt you, he already would have.

“Won’t ask again—show me,” he commanded.

You walked toward the back row of shelves without another word; the Duros followed. You stretched out your arms, gathering what you had been after—a top of the line slugthrower, a weapon that used kinetic energy to fire solid objects, metal objects—you hoped it was what the man was looking for.

You turned around and presented it to him; Bane lifted it straight out of your hands. He turned it this way and that, giving it a thorough examination, extending it as if meaning to take a shot. He pulled the trigger, though it wasn’t loaded, then shifted his gaze toward yours—you had been staring. “How much?”

Now was your chance—would you dare try to coax a little more out of him than the asking price? Maybe money was no object to a person of his wealth and status. It was no secret Bane worked for the highest bidder. Everyone knew his was the highest price tag and that he was capable of any job should you pay him his just dues.

You idly wondered who had paid him to break into the temple back on Coruscant…

“Ye slow?” Bane snarled, flashing his teeth. You had zoned out again, making yourself look more or less like an idiot three times now.

“Two thousand,” you shot back. This particular model was only worth twelve hundred.

The Duros gawked at you, arched a brow, then outright laughed a dry honk of a laugh. “HA! Ye must be dumber dhan kriff te think Ah’m payin dhat.”

“Take it or leave it,” you bravely replied, although you wished you hadn’t for what came next.

The hunter’s eyes narrowed for the second time within your presence. He shoved the shotgun back into your arms, forcing you to stumble backward. He removed the toothpick he had been gnawing on to place it against the underside of your chin. Your own eyes widened as you swallowed down your excess spit.

“Ye tryin’ te pull one over on me, son?” Bane asked, his voice riddled with animosity, betraying his lack of self-restraint.

“I—what? N-no—” you managed, hardly able to look at him directly.

Still, this sudden closeness, the smell of the Duros—it was intoxicating. Despite his piss-poor attitude, his leering was doing things to you. Things you could not explain except that it was your animal brain enlivening, as were your loins, much to your embarrassment.

Then, the Duros smiled. It was a shit-eating, nefarious sort of smile. A smile that made your blood run cold and your groin catch fire. “Dhat fear Ah smell, er somethin’ else?”

Your cheeks burned, though you would recover, finding your obstinance somewhere deep down inside you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, that’s the asking price,” you lied, the pounding of your heart thrumming in your ears.

“Ah know what dhis shit’s werth, and it ain’t dhat,” Bane hissed, pushing the sharp point of his toothpick more succinctly against you, the scars and lines that were etched into the flat of his face close enough to touch, close enough to kiss.

“Make ye a deal, since Ah know ye wanna fuck me,” Bane taunted savagely.

“W-what?!” you asked surprised, thrown off by his candidness. Was he a mind reader? Could he sense your desperation?

What you were not privy to was that Bane was in a rare, good mood, having just stolen a holocron out from under the noses of half a dozen Jedi, making out with a new ship and a payout that was triple. Normally, he might just shoot you for trying to pull a fast one, but there was something about you that intrigued him—maybe it was the brazen way in which you had tried to overcharge him. It was something he might do, after all.

“Pay ye what it’s werth, and Ah’ll give ye somethin’ te tell yer friends,” Bane snickered. “If ye got any,” he nastily teased, adding insult to injury.

“I … I have friends,” you defended, giving him a once over. You felt entirely too hot, your body having betrayed you for wanting this horrible, cutthroat man.

“Dhat mean we have ourselves a deal?” His grin returned, toothy and sadistic.

“I’ll drop it to twelve … but only if you can make me cum.”

Were you crazy? Had you actually gone temporarily insane?

Not only did the Duros’ rostrum crinkle in a twisted sort of delight, but the corners of his horizontal, ovate eyes did as well, his malicious smirk reaching to the tops of his gaunt cheeks.

“Ye got guts, Ah’ll give ye dhat—time te rearrange ‘em,” he stated cattily, flicking his chewed-up toothpick onto the floor.

You almost laughed, but thought it the wrong choice, not that you had much time to think through things to begin with, Bane on you faster than a womp rat up a drainpipe now that you had given your express consent.

The Duros snatched the slugthrower back out of your hands, tossing it down to join his toothpick on the ground, the shotgun landing with a clatter as he grasped you by the collar of your shirt, shoving you back against the row of shelves behind you.

“Turn around and spread ‘em,” he advised.

“Wait! That’s—that’s not exactly what I’m into,” you dared, taking a deep breath.

The hunter canted his head like an inquisitive took’, looking at you like you had just grown a second head yourself. Yet, he did not take yours clean off. Instead, he posed a question.

“Ye exspectin’ Ah be gentle?”

“No, just—go easy.”

“Easy …”

Bane hummed a sound, as if rolling over what you had said in his mind. Then, he closed the gap between you, pressing himself up against your aching loins; you could feel the outline of the Duros through his distressed jeans. It was … unusual, to say the least.

“Have it yer way.”

Bane moved toward the button at the top of your pants, dexterous fingers undoing the clasp within seconds. You found yourself holding your breath as one large hand slipped between the folds of your boxers, trying not to dwell on what he might think once he realized—

“Hold on!” you interjected, the Duros’ creeping digits stopping just below your belt line. He bared his teeth in annoyance, but it couldn’t be helped. You had one more thing to tell him.

“Tryin’ my patienccce,” Bane sizzed, his free hand wandering up to clutch your throat, holding your head steady as he gazed penetratingly into your eyes.

“Just thought maybe you should know that I—”

“Cahnnit,” the hunter snapped, the Duros’ sizeable fingers once more taking to movement as he pressed one between the folds of your labia. “Already know,” he informed you in a matter-of-fact tone. “Think Ah ain’t never karked a man with a cunt before?”

Bane snorted out a laugh as your breath caught in your throat, the Duros guiding his index finger to gently fondle the growth between your legs, “dhis ain’t my ferst rodeo, kid, now try te relax before ye piss me off.”

You nodded, unable to peel your eyes away from his, the brim of his hat steeping you both in shadow as you did the unthinkable, pushing up off your toes in an attempt to kiss him.

The hunter pushed you back with the point of a finger, then dipped down low at the same time he dipped inside you, gathering a measure of your slick. His thumb worked your dick in concentric circles as one large, elongated forefinger gave you something to mull over, the Duros leaving you gasping for air at the thought he hadn’t even stuck his cock inside you yet.

“Feel good?” he asked, as if he cared, as if might actually be concerned for how you were feeling. Whether or not it was an act wasn’t the point, just glad enough that he had taken the time to ask.

“Yes,” you breathed, your mouth so close to his, yet he had still refused to kiss you. It was almost unbearable, Bane immersing his finger into your tight hole to his third knuckle, curling it at just the right slant to apply the perfect amount of pressure against your anterior walls.

“Now�� why don’t ye be a good boy and turn around fer me,” he coerced, though not so demanding as last time. His good boy sent your mind reeling; you were already lost to him, unable to move, unable to speak, riding the high that was Bane finger-fucking you in the back of your workplace—shit—if anyone walked in…

You tried to obey him, but your body was not cooperating by no fault of your own. You had not felt this good in ages, the intense pleasure you were experiencing outweighing the frightening prospect of being spied having relations by your immediate supervisor or any other customer.

“Need a lil’ help, do ye?” Bane asked, the wet squelch of his finger vacating your insides causing you to heavily blush. Though incapable of speech, you were past the point of caring, letting the Duros ultimately have his way with you against your better judgment. Maybe you were naive for thinking he wouldn’t hurt you, but things seemed to now be fully out of your control, allowing your unconventional lover to rotate your human form however he so wished.

You felt your pants slide down towards your thighs; your boxers were next, falling past the crack of your ass, Bane once more pressing himself firmly against you as you heard a shuck, a rattle of metal, and the peeling of what sounded like thermoguard being pried apart by its seams.

“Which hole ye want it in?” Bane thought to ask, perhaps assuming he was being considerate. Before you could answer him in any way, shape or form, he decided for you. “Both,” he chortled.

“What do you—” you began, but were quickly silenced, something slick and slimy finding its way up your slit while another something knocked on your back door, though the Duros was kind to you in that its introduction was gradual, his cock’s tapered tip slim and pliable, enabling it to slip inside your ass in tiny increments.

You realized his species must self-lubricate; you thanked the Whills. Even though it felt beyond compare, you knew you would be sore by this time tomorrow.

“Look how good ye take it,” Bane lauded, though you could not tell if he was being sincere. You were left to seethe through your teeth, hissing tiny breaths, Bane only moving insofar as you could stand. He seemed to have a second sense for this, though the other of his cocks pushed up inside you; they were obviously stacked, these dual phalli, ribbed in all the right ways; pressing into you at all the right angles.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, panting like a man who had just run a marathon, moans of pleasure escaping your throat as a feeling of ecstasy mixed with a good kind of pain traveled its way down your spine, spreading outward from its origin point at the base of your skull.

“If ye insist,” Bane drawled, his bony hips thrusting themselves forward to where you belted out a sound that pleased him, Bane laughing a vicious little laugh as he reached around you, taking up the sizable nub that rested between your thighs.

“Louder,” he instructed, wanting to hear you sing, wanting to feel you writhe under him as he fucked you alongside an inordinate amount of deadly weaponry.

You pressed your hands flat along the shelves in front of you, digging your fingers into the wood. You would leave deep rents by the end of your time here, grasping for purchase as he began to rail you harder.

You moaned again, louder as he deemed it necessary. “Bane,” you praised, holding on for dear life as he gave you a good old-fashioned reach around while doubly penetrating you from behind. The overwhelming number of sensations you were feeling had your brain short-circuiting, the Duros swaying you toward an almost gentle release.

You reached a peak, biting down against your own hand, your dull, human teeth leaving their imprint across your flesh, damp with sweat, proof of pleasure rendered.

“Ain’t gettin’ off so easy after all,” Bane crooned spitefully in your ear. You momentarily wondered if he was referring to your orgasm, until you understood—he didn’t plan on stopping just because you came. He kept on rocking into you, over and over, simultaneously hitting your G-spot while stimulating the nerves in your anus, causing you to cum a second time.

Your body quaked beneath him, his thin hips enough to bruise you, to tenderize the meat of your rump as he gripped either side of your haunches, squeezing tight—you were glad he had never once groped you through your binder.

You weren’t entirely sure why you had agreed to this—especially without protection—but here you were, and you realized you had no desire to stop it from happening.

“Want it,” you croaked. “All of it.”

Bane obliged, discharging a thick, gelid substance into your cunt, followed by another round coating every inch of your inner walls. He did not hold back as was your preference, things only once more becoming impersonal when he raised up off your back, his rail-thin chest having been resting upon you, the rapid fluttering of his heart felt through the sparse fabric of your shirt.

It was a unique feeling, causing you to shiver reflexively, observing that his cocks weren’t by any means synchronized in their release. You only now began to wonder about his anatomy; what purpose it served to have two for a Duros, though you did not have one complaint regardless, and he had not questioned you about yours.

Bane finished himself off, then withdrew from you with a resounding, pressurized suck, every rib and crest felt by your sensitive loins on his way out.

“Hope ye got a ‘fresher ‘round here,” he quipped.

---

Bane had tucked himself away and waited for you, but you had the inkling he wouldn’t have stuck around had he not needed you. In fact, he didn’t—he could have easily walked out of there with the shotgun in tow, but he seemed to be a man of his word, extending an arm to offer you up his credit stick.

“Ye run it fer twelve, like we agreed.”

You nodded; kept quiet. You processed his payment, noting that the name that popped up on your screen was not his own.

“Werhl Tahoon?” you asked, quirking a brow.

“Ah really gotta explain dhat te ye?” he asked, visibly annoyed.

Of course, he didn’t. He was a wanted man, a criminal. He had assumed names, false identities … who knew how many bank accounts he had, and on which planets. All that mattered was that his money was good, the twelve hundred credits being withdrawn and added to your bosses' coffer.

“Sounds like the name of some nerfpoke from a cheesy holo—”

His glare shut you up; you handed him his card, having previously retrieved the slugthrower from off the floor on your way back out. You gazed at his hand as he plucked it from yours, thinking about the way those lithe fingers had been inside you, how you had felt every knuckle, how you would dream for years to come about this Duros, though he would most likely forget about you as soon as he departed from your shop.

You flinched as he once more snatched you by your collar like before, those same, agile fingers tightening around the cloth as he reeled you in, bringing you within mere centimeters of his face.

“Be in yer best interest naht te try and rip people off—next time, ye may just get pumped fulla lasers rather dhan gettin’ plugged.”

He kissed you roughly on the mouth; you felt the scrape of a tooth, its sharp point grazing your skin. It was more than you could have ever hoped for.

Then, he released you; he left you gasping for air. He seemed to have that effect on you. The idea that he was leaving was suddenly too much; unthinkable, even as he strapped the slugthrower across his back and tipped his brim.

Like an idiot, you called out to him as he made his way, taking him in one last time—the way his duster moved fluidly around him, the way his hat enshrouded him.

“Where are you going?” you asked, as if a jilted lover, as if you meant something, as if he might have the decency to tell you anything about his plans or about himself.

He turned on the heel of his boot, one arm lifting as his hand dug into the confines of his coat. He withdrew an object—cube-shaped, many-sided, and covered in intricate designs. You didn’t know what it was, but you thought it must be rare and beautiful, like him, and blue to boot.

In realty, it was a stolen Jedi holocron, filled with the names of all the galaxy’s up-and-coming Force-users, the future of the Jedi Order—and he had been paid to nick it from the Archives by one Darth Sidious.

Bane smirked as he deigned to answer to the likes of you.

“Devaron—got a Jedi te catch,” he snickered.

Devaron … it was a planet not too far from here, within the Colonies, bordering your sector.

You thought to comment, but then he was gone, leaving behind what he had promised—a good story to tell your friends. God, what you wouldn’t give to go with him, out on some grand adventure—an almost childish fantasy you would harbor in your heart forever, much like the man named Bane.

… What a shame.

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x Reader #Cad Bane x Trans Male Reader #Cad Bane x AFAB Reader #Cad Bane x FTM Reader #Star Wars #Fanfiction #x you #x reader #my writing #clone wars #bad batch #book of boba fett #Anonymous request #thanks for the ask!#Duros #Bounty Hunter

40 notes · View notes