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#but you helped him down onto the floor anyway <3
hazelfoureyes · 2 hours
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A Doe in Fall (Part 3)
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⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall smut💦
Part 1 - Pretty in Red Part 2 - Liar
So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.
「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」
Minors DNI 🤺
Part 3 A tragedy 
You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.
But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 
You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 
“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.
“No, Tommy.”
“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”
His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 
“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.
You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.
“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”
You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 
“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”
You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.
“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.
“For what?”
It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 
He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.
“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”
“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”
“He usually cuts us in.”
Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 
“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.
“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.
“That’s it?” Incredulous.
“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”
“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”
By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 
Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 
During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.
Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”
You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 
Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.
“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 
Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.
“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.
He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 
Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 
“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.
You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’
Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 
“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 
“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.
“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.
“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 
“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”
Lie. 
“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 
Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”
“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.
“Then look at me.”
Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.
You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.
You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.
Lie. 
You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.
Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.
“Alastor, people are staring.” 
His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.
“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.
“The truth or wh-“
“Always. Never give me anything else.”
You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”
Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.
“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 
Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.
“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”
You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?
He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 
You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.
Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 
You stood, waiting for an explanation.
Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”
You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 
Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?
“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”
“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”
He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”
You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.
He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”
You watched his car light up and leave the alley.
It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 
So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?
Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”
You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 
Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 
Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”
Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”
“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”
Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.
He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 
Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.
Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 
However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 
Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.
Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.
Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.
When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.
“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 
Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.
“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.
You grimaced, “No, a murder.”
She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”
You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.
“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 
“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.
“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”
“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”
A nod, yes, actually, you had.
“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”
You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”
When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.
“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 
Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.
The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.
The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  
Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?
Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.
The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.
You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.
And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.
Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.
You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.
The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.
“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.
“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.
“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.
“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”
A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”
A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 
Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 
Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 
Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 
“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 
You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”
“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”
Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 
Funny how that works both ways.
Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 
The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.
Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 
You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.
Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?
He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.
You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.
Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 
He nodded, “Yeah.”
“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”
As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”
He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 
You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.
“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”
How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 
Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.
“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 
How could he make hell sound so sweet?
“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 
He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?
His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 
You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”
His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.
Had you said something wrong? 
“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”
Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.
He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.
Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.
Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 
With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 
Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.
He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 
Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.
You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.
Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 
But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.
Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.
“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”
His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.
You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”
He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.
“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.
Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.
The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 
Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.
Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.
He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.
He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.
He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 
(Next Part Next Week, orz)
*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one
༻Masterlist༺
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions
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bouncybongfairy · 2 days
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Sleepy
Simon (Ghost) Riley x Fem Reader
Summary: After going days without sleep, you start to experience the effects of sleep deprivation: anxiety, hallucinations, irritability and lack of appetite. Ghost helps calm you down and rest after an intense mission.
Word Count: 1.0k+
TW: Protective Ghost, Comfort fluff, Soft Ghost
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
As a new recruit, you were getting chewed up and spit out everyday. The days were slowly starting to blur together and you weren’t sleeping well. The tiniest of sounds scaring you awake at least twice a night. Or having recurring night terrors from more gruesome missions. Everyone on the task force was starting to get concerned, it was evident you were suffering from a lack of rest. The group, you included, were walking back from a mission. You were drenched in blood after going completely feral in combat. Even strangers, you were walking ahead of everyone. Making it clear that you didn’t want to converse with anyone. Walking past Soap to get to your room, his eyes widened and looked over at Ghost and Keegan. 
“What happened?” he asks. 
“I don’t know, she just went crazy,” Ghost sighed, the situation clearly stressing him out.
“Crazy is a nice way to put it,” Keegan scoffed, Ghost shot him a death glare but he continued anyway, “don’t look at me like that bro, you were there. You saw for yourself, she bit and I repeat: bit that guy’s finger off,” he defended himself. 
“y/n did that? You know she hasn't eaten since last night? And when she did it was only peanut butter and an apple,” Soap said, taken back by this report. Ghost gave both of them a dirty look before walking to your shared room. 
He walked in and saw you sitting on your bed. You haven't taken any of your gear off, just sitting in dark silence. Unlike others in your platoon, Ghost had a first hand look into why your behavior was so erratic. All he hears at night is you tossing and turning, not even mentioning your night terrors. He just pretends he doesn’t notice, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. Shedding his gear but leaving his cotton mask on before walking over to you. He rests his hand on your shoulder, making you jump up. Slightly disoriented from being broken out of a haze, you pull out your knife. Ghost grabbed your wrist, gripping it so tight the blade drops from your hand. Slowly starting to come back to reality, sinking to your knees and crying. He helps you to the ground, letting you rest your weight against him. 
“I’m sorry,” you kept mumbling weakly. Still having full combat gear on was making you sweat. He was slowly taking your stuff off, unloading your gun and tossing it onto his bed while coaxing you down. 
“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you,” he said, standing you up and walking you to the bathroom. 
Sleep deprivation was starting to kick in, you haven’t eaten anything in a day. After the burst of adrenaline on the mission, you could barely walk. Sitting on the bathroom floor, enjoying the cold tile against your hot and flushed skin. Ghost turned on the water, letting the tub fill up then turning his attention back to you. Resting his hand on your forehead and cringing when he felt how warm you were. He lifts you up bridal style, letting your feet dip into the water first. You jump and cling onto him so tight, it makes two of your fingernails start bleeding. 
“Holy fuck it’s freezing,” you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I know but you have to break the fever, and you’ll throw up if you take any medication right now,” he said, trying to pry you off him. 
“Please,” you pleaded with him, death gripping his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist. 
After struggling trying to get you off, he was becoming overwhelmed. Your face was tucked into his neck and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. Breathing hard against his ear while unknowingly rubbing yourself against his erection. Once he came to the conclusion that he couldn’t get you off, he got into the water. Figuring he was killing two birds with one stone by killing his hard-on with the freezing water and getting you into the tub. You struggled underneath him for a while, until the small amount of strength you had was gone. Teeth chattering and sniffling as you cried quietly, keeping your grip around his neck. 
“I’ve gone fucking crazy,” you whispered, ghost looked down at you. 
“No love, you’ve just gone days without sleep,” he said, wetting his hands and whipping the blood off your face. Trying his best to untangle the strands that were caked to your skin. 
“Stop. You know, like my brain is fucked up. I’m fucked up,” you cried, working yourself up again. Hyperventilating and trying to get out of the tub. 
He changed your positions, sitting up and pressing his back against the tub. Pulling your back into his chest and changing the subject. Resting his chin on the top of your head while he talked, gripping your wrist so you couldn’t get out. 
“You know I used to have night terrors because my brother would scare me awake?” he said, using his thumb to stroke your hand. 
“Yeah?” you mumbled. 
“Mmhm, but I grew out of it, just like you will eventually,” he said. 
“I have blood on my hands,” you slurred, at first he thought you meant metaphorically. Until he saw you looking down at your palms, trying to wash the ‘blood’ off. Ghost isn’t a rookie and knows what sleep deprived hallucinations look like. In his experience, validation rather than conflict helps deescalate things.
“Let me wash it off, don’t worry about it,” he said, rubbing your hands under the water. 
After a few moments of this, you finally fell asleep against his chest. He got out of the water, changed the two of you into dry clothes before joining you to get some rest
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shapard · 10 hours
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Albino Snake (Part two) 🐍
Lucifer x human!fem!reader
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A/n: for those who wanted a second part<3
Lucifer only wants to help.
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Part 1 < Part 2
You grabbed a pillow and threw it towards Lucifer. “What-“ Another pillow was thrown into his face. “Can you stop?” Another, then another strike. 
You were about to launch another one at him, but Lucifer grasped your hand and held tight onto it. “Gosh, can you stop? Where did you find so many pillows?!” 
Your heart was racing like you just ran a marathon. What happened to your cute little Apple? You let out a quiet scream and slapped a book into his face.
“Ouch! That hurts!” Another slap with the book. “Ah! Why are you humans always so sensitive! -“ Another hard hit in his face. “Stop!“ You only huffed in anger. 
You want your little albino snake back. 
“Where’s Apple?” Lucifer groaned in frustration. “I’m Apple!” you shook your head furious, no. 
Lucifer eyebrow raised, and he crossed his arms. Again, this red mist covered Lucifers body.
With no further questions he slithered back onto your neck. His body already cuddled up into the warmth of your skin. His red eyes bored into you.
“Still not believing me?” You took the book right back into your hand, ready to strike. “NO! Please darling. I must admit for a beautiful woman like you, you hit pretty hard.” And there he stood again in front of you in his full glory. 
You huffed and took a deep breath to calm your nerves. First that with your landlord and now your cute little apple turns out to be something beyond your imaginations. 
Lucifer took the opportunity to take that book out of your hand. “I want to thank you.” You looked towards Lucifer, and he looked down at the ground, playing with his sleeve nervously.
“For what?” You asked softly and he briefly looked at you. “You took care of me.” Even though you attacked him right after you found out that he’s more than just an Albino Snake. 
“What and who even are you?” You asked and sat down on the floor, Lucifer followed right after.
“I’m Lucifer… Lucifer Morningstar.” He said carefully. He doesn’t want to scare you off.
And He doesn’t want to get thrown with anything that was near your reach. 
He was startled when you started to laugh loudly, this time tears of joy smeared the new applied mascara.
Lucifer smiled confused and shook his head. You don’t believe him.
“Yeah, and I’m Jesus.” Lucifer smile spun into a frown. Lucifer stood up and his well-known smirk came back to his face.
He laughed and few seconds his six wings are spread through the whole room. Red horns grew out of his head and a flame burned with passion between them. 
Lucifers Sclera was crimson red, and his iris was pure gold. Your heart picked up at its rate and you backed up quickly. Lucifer cursed under his breath when he gazed on your terrified expression.
He ducked down to appeal even smaller to not scare you further and neared you with caution. In your point of view Lucifer looked like an animal who was ready to pounce on you.
His wings knocked down one of Charlottes expensive perfume, the crashing sound was just fueling your anxiety of the devil in front of you.
You let out a small yell when the strong smell of the perfume hits you like a train. The smell of alcohol stained now his red, white wings.
“You’re the devil?” Lucifer nods at your question but wasn’t looking at your face. He was staring at the lamp in your hand.
Where do you find this stuff anyways?
“What are you doing here on earth?” Scared when he walked closer you raised the lamp, ready for another strike. “St-Stay back!” Lucifer stopped at your sudden shouting, and he groaned in frustration. 
If this keeps on going on he’ll leave this place with gray hair.
His wings disappeared behind him, and his demonic form transitioned back to normal. 
“My daughter tried out some potion with Belphegor and said I should test it. I drank it because how could I not with this cute face of hers. I ended up in the human world in a snake body. For the first time in my life, I was vulnerable and easily target. Humans aren’t very nice when they see a snake, so I got kicked and stones were thrown at me. I knew the potion will wear off eventually, so I hid in the water cup in this house. Then you found me and patched me up.” 
His explanation seems valid, and he sat down on the soft mattress. “I’m going to help you with that dream of yours and then we are even.”
That’s when it all started with your cute little romance.
Lucifer helped as promised and you two grew closer than you should. He was amazed how hard you worked for your dreams.
You did something to him only one woman knew how. You got him completely wrapped around your finger.
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A/n: poor Lucifer. btw I wanted to post this later but ig Tumblr had other plans.
💫
@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete
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octo-hyacinth · 2 years
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His Worst Nightmare
Characters: One scared Jamil Viper. Content Warning: One bug, teasing Jamil for hiding on the kitchen counter. A/N: @theheavilyindulgentgoat this is for u <3 enjoy girlie, and everyone else!
In which you save Jamil from certain death... death by cockroach, to be exact.
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All you wanted to do was finish your homework for the day. Just finish your work in peaceful quiet. But then, you heard it.
A blood-curdling, earth-shattering scream that could probably wake the dead and then some.
"HOLY SEVEN GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME-" You heard distantly, followed by the sound of something crashing to the floor and shattering. Immediately alarmed, you bolted out of your room and kicked open the kitchen door to find Jamil, panicked and perching on the counter, pointing a wooden spoon at a little bug on the ground.
His crazed, fearful eyes met yours. "Please get it away, Y/N, I'm not touching it." He nearly whimpered.
You fought back a smile as you grabbed a cup from a cabinet to trap the roach with. It was almost cute how Jamil, with all of his grace and composure in any situation, was deathly afraid of a tiny little insect on the floor.
"C'mon Jamil, he's just a little guy, he's not gonna hurt you."
"But what if it flew up here onto my face-"
"Relax, I got him, see?" You held up the cup that you were sealing shut with a piece of paper. "I'm gonna go let him out."
"Fine, okay." He grumbled. You could tell the fear was wearing off, and now he was desperate to regain a bit of his lost dignity.
Once you came back, he was still sitting on the edge of the counter, warily eyeing the tile like he was hesitant to get back down in case there were more of them.
You couldn't help the smile this time. "Do you need me to princess-carry you out of the kitchen, baby?"
"Absolutely not."
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rinneverse · 7 days
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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! — 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊 𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊. ˒ ⊹
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me and my roommate get drunk one night and end up fucking!!!! oh my god, this is so awkward…
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୨ৎ syn. it’s your final year of uni—after midterms come to a close, you decide to celebrate by getting absolutely SMASHED with your roommate, itadori yuuji. much to your chagrin, this decision comes with a boatload of consequences. how do you navigate the awkward morning after with your golden retriever of a roommate!? (4.8k)
୨ৎ pairing. itadori yuuji x f!reader
୨ৎ cw. modern au, fem!reader, both yuuji and reader are in their final year of uni and are implied to be 21+, alcohol mentions, drunk sex, dubious consent (read prev warning), pet names used (baby, pretty, angel), oral (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dealing w/ the repercussions of fucking your roommate the morning after (but it ended up alot more fluffier and romantic than i intended because i love him), minors + ageless blogs dni! 18+ content under the cut!!
୨ৎ love, oak! oh christ almighty. i like itadori yuuji a normal amount. i just really really think he'd make the perfect boyfriend ever. first time writing for him so hoping and praying he isn’t incredibly ooc but regardless,, hope u guys like this i wrote it with my entire clit :3 crossposted to ao3 here!
[ main m.list! ┊coming soon... ]
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“Yuu~ji!”
Your lilting voice carries through the shared living space of your apartment. Shuffling in through the entryway, the door clicks shut behind you as you peer around the corner of the entrance hallway.
“You there? Yu?”
You hear a muted groan come from the couch in response.
Toeing off your shoes with a giggle and setting them onto the shoe-rack (the same shoe-rack you constantly have to pester Yuuji about—”Yu, don’t just leave your shoes on the floor! The rack is right there!”—every other day), you peek over the back of the fluffy couch in the living area and find Yuuji sprawled on his stomach over it, face shoved in a pillow.
“How are you feeling?” you ask.
“Like I’m dying,” comes his muffled reply.
You reach a hand down to tousle his already messy bubblegum pink hair. He weakly bats a hand at you.
“Surely you can live a little longer for a night out with your favorite roommate?”
With a grunt, Yuuji flips over, lying on his back. He blinks once, twice. Then he grins; that familiar, radiant grin that makes your heart speed up a little in your chest. You can feel your own smile widen in response.
“I think I can do that,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows. He tilts his head at you. “You’re not gonna pass out on me again though, are you?”
Your eyes narrow slightly in challenge. Bringing your face closer to his by leaning over the couch, you reply snarkily, “and you’re not gonna force me to shoulder you the whole way home again, are you?”
Yuuji’s eyes widen at the new proximity, a faint rosiness rising to his cheeks that makes you giddy. His throat bobs before he replies, “No, promise I won’t.”
You think you see his eyes flick down momentarily—towards the swell of your chest, exposed by the low-cut top you had chosen to wear today—causing a smug sense of satisfaction to pool in your tummy. You lean further, the urge to be a tease winning out over your usual sense: over the notion that you shouldn’t be flirting with the guy you live with. It's entirely a bad idea (and yet here you are, doing it anyways).
Yuuji’s lips part slightly; when he meets your gaze again, there’s hunger shining in his big brown eyes, hazy and diluted by conflict. You can see the inner strife going on in his head already: he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his roommate. He shouldn’t be a perv.
You shouldn’t be feeling this way about him either, but you just can’t help yourself. Something about the way he’s looking at you fills you with a streak of confidence that throws all common sense out of the window.
“Good. Be ready at 7?” Your tone has noticeably lowered, nearly a purr even as you smile innocently down at him.
Yuuji swallows again, still looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sure—okay. Sounds good!” He babbles nervously.
It’s cute. He’s cute.
“Cool. ‘m gonna get a nap in then.”
He nods his head slowly. The tension hovers in the air between you, so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Slowly, ever so slowly, you straighten, watching as his eyes never leave your form. You bite your lip and offer Yuuji a softer smile before you turn on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.
You can feel the way his eyes bore holes into your back as you walk away, skirt swishing with every step. You purposefully sway your hips a little more despite yourself and you think you hear him choke slightly, a sound that makes you feel much more smug than it realistically should.
As you close the door to your bedroom, the only thing on your mind isn’t how tired you are from dealing with midterms—it’s how Yuuji looked at you just moments ago, eyes gleaming with raw want, like you were a five star meal served on a silver platter. You clutch your chest as you flop onto your bed.
There’s always been an underlying tension between you and Yuuji. It used to be easier to ignore, something left tucked away in the corners of your mind, leaving you to instead settle for an easy friendship. Something that doesn’t complicate things, especially since you live together. There’s no avoiding any awkward encounters should either of you decide to take that step.
But lately, things have been coming to a boiling point. You’re not sure if it’s the stress of your final year of uni dawning upon you or if its just years of tension finally being pulled taut enough to snap—whatever it is, it has muddled your senses enough to find flirting with Yuuji fun instead of something forbidden. It has you pushing boundaries you never thought you would push with him before.
Oh, well. If there was any time for things to make some bad decisions and get a little complicated with your incredibly handsome roommate, your last year of uni might just be perfect. Screw the consequences.
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“Yuu,” you moan, drunkenly stumbling into a wall of muscle.
Thankfully, that wall of muscle happens to be Itadori Yuuji. He wraps a strong arm around your waist, a hiccup bubbling from his lips as he grins down at you.
“Hey there,” Yuuji laughs. “You okay?”
“Yeeeeaaahhh,” you slur. “Are we home yet?”
“Almost there. Hang on a little bit more for me, okay?”
The night air is crisp and cooling against your balmy skin, a welcome relief after spending hours in a bar packed with sweaty bodies and bass thrumming through your veins. It’s breezy, fallen leaves rustling across the ground as the wind scatters them along the sidewalk. A particularly stronger gust has you pressing closer to Yuuji, your little top and skirt doing little to protect you against the autumnal weather.
Yuuji pauses, making sure you’re steady before he shrugs off his jacket.
“Here, put this on,” he says, gently maneuvering your arms into the warm sleeves. His cologne wraps around you in its embrace, warm and musky and tinged just a little bit with alcohol. You smile.
Megumi and Nobara have already made their separate ways home, the former grabbing an uber while Nobara hitched a ride home with Maki. You can’t help the way you giggle and stumble as Yuuji ushers you forward again. “Nobaraaa’s gonna geeet iiiiit,” you snicker, latching onto the hard muscle of Yuuji’s bicep to steady yourself. “Did you see the way Maki w’s lookin’ at her? I wish someone looked at me that way.”
Yuuji is probably about equally as blasted as you are (you went shot for shot, after all), but he manages to carry himself in a more sober manner than you. He lets you latch onto him like a koala as he guides you through the doors of your apartment building.
He’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so—he’s usually a chatterbox when drunk.
“Yuuji? Did’ya even hear me?” you push.
“I heard ya,” Yuuji hums, pulling you into the elevator with him. As the machinery moves up to your floor, it makes your stomach lurch—forcing you to grab onto Yuuji tighter and bury your face in his shoulder.
“Are we there yet?” You grumble into his arm, clutching him tight.
“Almost,” he replies softly. You think you feel a gentle kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, but with the way everything is spinning, you can’t be entirely sure.
Between some time and the next, you’re finally ambling into your apartment, clutching Yuuji’s jacket tight around you. As the door clicks shut, you spin to face him—
—and end up nearly face planting, if not for the way Yuuji surges forward to catch you in his arms. “Woah there,” he mumbles. “Steady. Don’t move too fast, or you’ll fall.”
Despite his words, he has to lean against the now shut door to keep himself upright, you can feel that much. You grasp the fabric of his shirt in balled fists, pressed against the sturdy surface of his chest. You can feel the way his muscles flex and roll as he shifts with the way you’re pressed up against him.
When you look up at him, doe-eyes wide, you’re met with brown eyes glimmering with want. Lust.
“Yuu… ji?” Your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. He inhales in sync, his hands dropping to curl around your waist. He holds you gently, like a porcelain teacup on the verge of breaking.
It's quiet. There's a dazed look in his eyes as he stares at you.
“Can I kiss you?” The question falls from his lips softly—but with the silence of the apartment, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, it’s earth shattering. His eyes drop down to your glossy lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own.
You’re not in your right mind. This is a bad idea. You know this.
You don’t care.
Pulling at the collar of his shirt, you tug him down to you, lips meeting in a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s electrifying, everything you’ve ever wanted and needed in this one moment, warmth exploding in your chest like a dying star.
Fuck. You were kissing Itadori Yuuji—and it’s everything you dreamt it would be.
He pants your name amidst kisses but it’s hard to hear with your heart roaring in your ears, a drum beating an unsteady rhythm that throws you off balance in your very core. You stumble into the shoe-rack trying to hastily drag him over to the couch. Shoes clatter to the floor as you tumble into him, a moan falling from your lips as he paws at you while your hands tangle in his hair.
“I was lookin’ at you like that, you know?” Yuuji groans as the two of you fall back onto the couch. He holds you on top of him, letting you get comfy as you straddle his lap before he continues. “You haven’t noticed?”
His voice is heavy, dragging drunkenly as you stare down at him. In this position, with Yuuji laid back on the couch, you feel like you’re towering over him—giving you some semblance of control, even though you know perfectly well that Yuuji can flip you over and take you just like that. You dip your hands under his shirt, nails gently scratching against the velvet wrapped steel planes of his abs. Pushing the fabric up, you reveal the faint happy trail that begins at his navel, disappearing teasingly under the waistband of his jeans. You bite your lip.
“Hey,”—your name falls from his lips in the form of a plea, desperate and sweet—”Look at me.”
Big hands squeezing your hips force your attention back to him. You finally listen and meet his gaze, finding that his eyes are heavily eclipsed by dilated pupils, leaving a faint ring of hazel in its wake. It’s like a dark sun, or perhaps a black hole threatening to pull you into him, consumed by everything that is Itadori Yuuji.
You think you wouldn’t mind that one bit.
“Are you sure this is okay?” He’s worried, something that makes your heart warm fondly, giving you a moment of clarity amidst the fog of lust that addles your brain. The guys you typically went home with sometimes never found it in themselves to care too much about you. But Yuuji… he’s different. He does care. Yuuji continues, a touch softer, “We’re both drunk… what if we regret it in the morning?”
You slowly reach down to cradle his face in your hands. When you speak, it’s with a bold certainty that Yuuji cannot argue with: “I know I won’t regret it.”
Yuuji nods his head. With that anxiety out of the way, he surges up to kiss you with renewed vigor, tugging his jacket off of you and pulling the hem of your top over your chest to reveal your tits. When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he takes in the pretty lace bra you had opted to wear out tonight.
“You’re beautiful,” Yuuji says softly. A groan catches in his throat as you roll your hips down against his, delicious friction against his erection that has you mewling for more.
“Yu,” you sigh out as he unhooks your bra with clumsy fingers, pulling your shirt off as well in one go. The garments flutter to the floor, forgotten.
“I mean it—you really are.” His voice has noticeably deepened, taking on a huskier tone that makes your toes curl. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I never can.”
He presses another kiss to your lips, quick and chaste, drawing a path down your jaw, the slope of your neck. He removes a hand from your waist to palm at your sensitive breast, drawing a whimper from you that has his cock twitching in his pants. “I can’t believe you’ve never noticed. Our friends tease me all the time for it, you know?” He sighs, nearly a whine, words slurring together in a lust-drunk haze as he presses a kiss to your collar. “I could never take another girl home with me because I only want you.”
Yuuji’s drunken confession sends you reeling, thighs tightening together around him as you tilt his chin up towards you. Love and adoration glimmers in your eyes as you respond gently, “I only want you, too.”
He smiles at you then, scooping you up in his arms as he rises. “Don’t wanna ruin the couch,” he murmurs, strong hands grasping at the fat of your ass as he carries you with ease. “Your room or mine?”
“Yu—” you gasp, clutching onto him for dear life, “mine, please.”
Even drunk, he moves with you with a practiced ease—as if you’ve done this your entire lives. As he lays you on your bed, he curls over you, lips pressing together messily as his hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt. There’s a brief moment where he pants, “Can I take them off, pretty? Can I?,” as he nips at your lower lip. You nod your head; immediately he’s sliding them off, leaving you in your lacy undergarments and feeling unfairly naked compared to him. You cross your arms over your chest shyly.
Yuuji smiles sweetly as he kneels, pressing a kiss to your navel.
“Don’t hide from me, baby. I wanna see you..” He trails off as he hooks his fingers under the band of your panties, eyes flicking up to yours in silent question. You can only manage to nod your head—words have entirely escaped you at this point. If you spoke, you weren’t sure what, exactly, would come out.
The way he pulls the fabric off of you is almost reverent, his eyes never leaving your body as he sets your panties to the side. His breath is hot against your skin as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
“Baby,” Yuuji starts, the pet name falling from his lips with ease, like something familiar, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”
Calloused fingertips press into the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs open, even going as far as hooking a leg over his shoulder as he settles between them. His breath is hot and heavy as he grows closer to your core. It’s embarrassing, and you want to press your legs together, but Yuuji doesn’t allow this. He’s firm in his place, holding your legs wide open, baring you to him.
He starts gentle. A kiss to the apex of your thighs, a gentle finger running along your sensitive, weeping slit. A shiver runs down your spine as he parts you open, eyes raptly on you.
“Don’t stare,” you whine. “It’s embarrassing.”
He murmurs a soft apology, taking one more second for himself before he dives right in: tongue lapping at you voraciously, pulling the sweetest of moans from your lips as he eats you out like a man starved. You try to press your thighs together once more but he holds you open, unyielding in his grip as his tongue dips in your slit, then draws upwards, making circles around your clit.
He’s messy in the way he eats you out. He doesn’t hold back, either: he laps at you like he’s a dehydrated man at last finding an oasis, drinking in your juices like it’s the finest of nectars. Slick covers his chin as he raises his head to look at you, half-lidded eyes meeting yours as he eases a finger into you. It slips in with ease, aided by how wet you’ve gotten on just his tongue alone.
Your back arches as he pumps his finger into you. You need more. “Yuuji,” you plead in a broken moan. “Need more—want your cock inside me, I can take it.”
His eyes widen slightly, but he’s nodding his head like an eager puppy, withdrawing his hand and rising to pull his clothes off. You whine, a soft plea of, “hurry, need you now,” that has Yuuji clumsily fumbling at the button of his jeans. He doesn’t even pull them off fully, letting the fabric pool at his ankles as he takes his dick in his hands and presses his hips to yours. His shaft presses against your messy slit, pulsing and needy.
“Fuck,” he curses, a soft whine sounding deep in his throat as his hips cant against yours. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you take in the sight: Yuuji, desperate, grasping your legs and nearly folding you in half as his cock rests on your pelvis, your navel. He’s big. The thought of someone his size fucking into you should be scary, but you know Yuuji will take care of you—or perhaps that’s the liquor in your brain telling you that you can take it, that you need him inside of you now.
“You’re gonna feel me so deep, baby,” he mumbles, entranced by the sight. You buck your hips slightly, barely moving thanks to the hold he has on you.
“I can take it,” you repeat, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second. “I need it. Give it to me, Yuuji.” Your hands grasp at the sheets beneath you as finally, finally, he slides the tip against your slit, catching a few times against your clit (”Yuuji, stop teasing me!”) before he finally eases into you, his fat tip breaching your weeping cunt. The stretch burns, but the sensation is not an unwelcome one.
Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as Yuuji hunches over you, pressing further into your pussy. It feels like it should almost be fucking impossible how deep he reaches inside you like this.
“Baby, baby,” Yuuji whines against the shell of your ear, breath hot and wet. You can feel his chest heave against yours as he struggles to regain his bearings. “You’re so tight—don’t think I can pull out, you feel s’good…”
As he bottoms out, you think you might die like this. His cock fills you so perfectly, pulsing and twitching inside you as he forces himself to still—to give you time to adjust.
You don’t want time, though. You really will fucking die if he doesn’t move soon.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to you to messily slot your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as his hips buck into yours. “Yuuji,” you breathe out against his lips. “Fuck me.”
“Okay, baby.” He nods, pressing his sweat slick forehead to yours as he moves his hips. He starts slower, long strokes that force you to feel all of him, deep and all-consuming and overwhelming your senses with him, strong arms caging you against the bed as he fucks into you again and again and again.
Yuuji’s pace picks up, your moans a sweet melody in his ears that spurs him on, making him lose all ration in his brain—it’s evident, in the way he growls almost animalistically, hips starting to rut into yours with reckless abandon. His balls slap against your ass, accompanied by a lewd squelch with every thrust into your messy cunt.
“Yu, fuck—please,” you sob with every thrust. He angles his hips a little differently until he finds the perfect spot—that sensitive little part of your cunt that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. Once he finds it, he narrows his focus on it, bullying his cock relentlessly into your pussy until you’re sobbing.
Your nails scratch along his back, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Yuuji groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck, mouthing and biting at the sensitive flesh as his hips pound into you.
“G’nna cum, don’t stop, ohhhh god,” you gasp out as Yuuji nips at the flesh of your collar. You claw at his back, toes curling in the air when you feel him slide a hand between your slick bodies to thumb at your clit, adding to the orchestra of sensations that are driving you mad with pleasure.
“Cum for me, angel,” Yuuji urges you breathlessly, fucking you with a renewed fervor. His hips are starting to stutter, and his large hands are grasping your thighs in a bruising grip as you convulse around him. His voice alone is enough to tip you over the edge; you’re falling into him, into oblivion, orgasming so hard your vision goes dark for a moment.
A long moan of his name falling from your lips is enough to push him over with you, white hot ropes of his cum coating your pulsing heat. You feel utterly breathless, boneless, as Yuuji slowly eases your legs down. The ache is pleasant.
“Baby,” Yuuji pants softly, breaking the pleasant silence as he brushes his fingers across your forehead. “I’m still… can I..?”
Oh, god. He is still rock hard inside of you. Your pussy is still fluttering with the world-shattering orgasm he had just given you—you’re not sure if you can take more.
But Yuuji looks at you with pleading eyes, your name falling from his lips with such desperation that you’re nodding your head, opening your arms for him. He smiles down at you, and as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his hips slowly start to rut into yours again.
You’re not sure how many rounds you go with Yuuji—the rest of the night is a blur of moans and groans, of him making you cum again and again and again, as many times as you can possibly take.
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You wake up with a pounding headache and a foreign weight slung over your chest.
“Oh, fuck,” you hiss quietly to yourself, voice raspy with remnants of sleep. “How much did I drink last night?”
Blinking open bleary eyes, you squint against the light that filters into the room—your room, which doesn’t make any sense because you never bring home your one night stands. Your hand brushes against the strong arm slung over you, and that’s when you hear an all-too-familiar snore.
“Oh, fuck.” You repeat, dread creeping into your groggy voice.
That was Itadori Yuuji in bed with you. That was your fucking roommate, naked in bed with you. You’re wearing his overly large t-shirt, and there’s an ache between your thighs that explains exactly what had transpired when you returned home with him last night.
You don’t remember too much, typical of nights where you have a little too much to drink. What you can grasp—mere wisps in the back of your mind—are fleeting moments of mind-numbing pleasure, or of sweet-nothings being whispered into your ear. Whatever scraps of memory you do have are enough to make you want to scream into a pillow out of sheer embarrassment.
You feel the arm around you tighten as Yuuji pulls you into his chest and you squeak.
Oh, that’s just fucking mortifying.
“Mmh… huh?” Yuuji mumbles sleepily. He slowly blinks, eyes focusing on you after a few moments. “What are you doing in my bed..?”
Your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, grasping at the sheets to keep your lower body covered as you do so. Your mouth opens and closes as you look for the right words to say.
Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow. He seems to have come to a realization without you having to say it out loud.
“Oh. This isn’t...” Yuuji frowns. He’s calm in a way that confuses you—why isn’t he freaking out like you are? “We got really hammered last night, huh?”
You slowly nod your head in agreement. “Do you… remember anything?”
Your attention is drawn to his lips when he bites his lower one in thought, then drifts downards when you catch the blooming hickeys on his neck in your peripherals. Oh, god, did you leave those? What were you thinking?
All too slowly, Yuuji’s eyes meet yours. The way he looks at you is almost unbearable. There’s a sinking sensation in your chest: you think he might apologize, or tell you that last night was a mistake. That he won’t let it happen again. Quickly, you blurt, “You don’t have to say it. I get it.”
Yuuji tilts his head, his train of thought forgotten. “Say what?”
“I get that you regret it.” The words start tumbling out of your mouth and there’s little you can do to stop it. “It’s okay, you won’t hurt my feelings. I know you’re too kind to just say it outright like that—“
Yuuji opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel onwards, looking down at your lap. You’re too mortified to look at him directly.
“—And I understand if you maybe want to avoid me for awhile? I know things will be awkward, so seriously, take whatever time you need—“
Your onslaught of words is cut off by Yuuji cupping your face in his hands as he leans forward to kiss you. It’s gentle, and while it only lasts for a heartbeat, to you it feels like it lasts a lifetime.
Stunned, you lift a hand to your lips, ghosting your fingers over them as you stare at him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded.
“Sorry,” Yuuji starts softly, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. “I didn’t know how else to stop you.”
You blink at him, making a noise in the back of your throat. It’s an exhale of breath, of one you didn’t even know you were holding until just now.
“I don’t regret it. And I really hope you don’t, too.” Yuuji sighs gently. When his eyes meet yours, he looks unsure, but he continues, “I meant everything I said last night. You’re beautiful, and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Have been, for awhile now.”
“Oh,” is all you can manage. You think your heart might explode in your chest. It beats an uneven rhythm, pulsing against your ribcage as if it’s bound to break out any moment now.
“I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, yanno? But now that, uh...” He clears his throat. “Last night happened… I might as well come out with it.”
You nod your head as his words sink in. Yuuji visibly gets more distressed with every second that passes in tense silence, so you say, “Okay. I see.”
He swallows—you know what he wants to ask: ‘Do you like me like that, too?’ but he doesn’t voice it out loud. It hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You carefully deliberate your next words.
“Will you take me on a date, Yuuji?” you ask bluntly.
“What?”
“I said—”
“No, no, I heard what you said.” His eyes widen slightly, stark relief visible in his irises. “Are you sure? I mean—I’d love to. Yes. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, angel. You name it.”
You smile fondly at Yuuji—you think if he had a tail, it would be wagging ferociously right about now. “First, you can get me a glass of water and some ibuprofen. Then we’ll talk about date plans, ‘kay?”
Yuuji nods his head fervently. He rises out of bed—and quickly realizes that he’s still naked. “Oh—shit, don’t look,” he stammers, lunging for his boxers that were conveniently laid out on the floor as he blushes. Once he’s got those pulled on, he turns towards you. You’ve politely averted your eyes.
“I’ll be back in a sec,” he murmurs, grabbing your attention by gently grasping your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Anything else I should grab ya?”
You feel your face warm up at the affection as you shake your head. With a smile, Yuuji shuffles out of your room to go fetch your requested items.
As you sit in the quiet of your bedroom, listening to Yuuji rustle through the bathroom, you think that maybe fucking your roommate wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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ultravioletrayz · 3 months
Note
This idea has been rotting in my head, and I have to let you know!
Giving Miguel a handjob in his office but even when he cums you still continue, his cum pooling over your hand and his dick, making Miguel a moaning mess, eyes rolling back saying “no more, can’t—too much!” basically overstimulating miguel with a handjob :3
Poor Miggy :(
ANYWAYS-
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Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!reader
Warnings: 18+, subby!miguel, handjob, overstimulation (m. receiving), praise kink
Summary: overstimulating miguel!!
A/N: sorry this is so short, I kinda focused in on the point of action. I might make a longer fic in future and incorporate something similar tho
Word Count: 530 (unedited)
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“Mmph- fuck! Cariño, por favor. No puedo.” Miguel whimpers, his voice muffled by the hand you have lazily held over his pretty lips. His hips jolt and buck in his desk chair, signalling that he’s approaching yet another orgasm.
Your hand is coated with thick, creamy ropes of his cum, his chair stained with his release causing his thighs to twitch at the feeling of his seed dripping onto the floor of his office. The office he had begged you to follow him into so that you could help him release some stress. It was supposed to be just a quickie, a handjob from his pretty girl, a few passionate kisses, and then the two of you returning to work. But two orgasms in, Miguel knew that he wasn’t escaping your grasp.
“Shh, Miguel,” You coo, licking at the side of Miguel’s throat, forcing another string of adorable little whines out of him. “You’re being such a good boy f’me, just one more, yeah? One more time, baby.”
Miguel shakes his head, his sharp red eyes rolling back as a few tears roll down his flushed cheeks due to just how overwhelmed he is, how sensitive his stupidly fat cock is now that your skilful hands have ripped four orgasms from his tense body and your words of praise travel straight to his balls.
“Mami, I can’t- hah! I can’t come anymore!” Miguel whimpers, eyes locked on the way your glistening hand strokes his aching cock, the veins on either side bulging as the wet, gushy sounds of you pumping his creamy dick fill his otherwise silent office.
“Yes you can, honey. You’re doing so well, it’d be a shame to stop now.” You whisper, nibbling on Miguel’s ear just to take advantage of his vulnerability in this heated moment.
Miguel yelps and whimpers as his back arches against the headrest of the chair, the sweat on his tall, tan, muscular body catching the light and making his skin shimmer in a way that has you weak in the knees, opting to jerk him off at an even faster pace that has him crying and digging his claws into the seat underneath him.
His hips spasm as he whimpers against your hand, drool being smeared all over your palm as his sharp red eyes look up into your own, his gaze tired yet loving as your pretty hands send him to his peak once again.
Miguel screams your name as his throbbing cock spurts thick, sticky ropes of cum into the air, the excess trickling down his shaft and saturating his heavy, trembling balls. He closes his eyes and pants, giving your hand a few quick pecks before you pull it away.
“Mi alma,” He whispers, letting his head fall back against your chest as you stand behind him with a box of tissues (because it was going to take the whole box to clean up the absolute mess of cum covering his quivering body).
“I’m here, Migs, I’m here,” You whisper, kissing the top of his head as you bring a tissue to the tip of his cock, earning a whiny moan from Miguel.
Well, he certainly didn’t feel stressed anymore.
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On an unrelated note, happy new year!! 💜
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kentopedia · 5 months
Text
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ panacea — levi ackerman
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summary. it's been hard to talk to levi after the rumbling
contents. written with fem!reader in mind but no gendered pronouns used, ex-scout!reader, postwar!levi, established relationship, sfw, angst, comfort, references to ptsd and depression, early in the healing process — 2.1k
notes. writing post-war levi is a little intimidating, but i hope i did him justice <3 please ignore any spelling or grammar isses
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the sound of a crash in the other room pulled you out of your sleep, tugging you out of a nightmare that you didn’t want to be caught in anyway. 
a groan came next—hushed but still audible, following the sound of something falling. though there was no need to be on alert, your heart hammered in your chest, your mind still caught in the titan’s den, not the place you called home. 
when you finally calmed down, reshaped your thoughts to reality, you shifted onto your other side, reaching out for levi. though, he wasn't in the bed besides you; the space had grown cold, the blankets thrown back. the shape of his head was no longer evident on the pillow. 
you sat up, moving quickly as you shook off the covers and padded into the other room. the brisk night air caused you to shiver, and the floor was even colder under your bare feet. still, you were too focused on the sounds you’d heard to even worry about grabbing a jacket.
there was a light on in the living room, a candle lit on table, and a book propped open next to it. clear signs that levi had been awake for a while, that sleep eluded him, even now.
“levi?” you said softly as you rubbed your eyes, your voice hoarse from misuse. “are you okay?”
you wrapped an arm around yourself, swallowing down any pity as you blinked at the dismal sight of levi next to the wheelchair, his expression screwed up in a blizzard of frustration and defeat. his legs laid out in front of him, and he stared at them, blue eyes hard as if trying to will them to do his bidding. 
this wasn’t the first time that levi had tried to push himself too hard, that he had tested his physical limits, and it wouldn't be the last. for years, he’d survived on sheer willpower. he’d gotten out of the underground from his own force and strength, his promise to erwin enough to keep him alive despite everything he suffered. 
though, for once, even his determination wasn't enough. it couldn’t rewind the clock, couldn't make his legs as they’d once been.
it had been an adjustment, and it still was—though, everything after the rumbling was an adjustment. 
for a while, after it had ended, levi hadn’t spoken to you. he didn’t want your help, and though you wanted to be by his side, you didn't want his anger. the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel smothered.
you tried your best to be patient. you’d continue to be patient with him, even when sometimes, you felt like he forget that you had lost, nonetheless.
“i’m fine,” he said gruffly, pulling himself up with the strength that he refused to let go of. levi was weaker now, his physical capabilities nowhere near where they’d once been, but he was still levi ackerman—he always would be. 
you watched him struggle for a moment, and you chewed your lip, taking a step forward. “levi…” 
“i said i’m fine.” he didn’t quite shout at you, but his tone was sharp, his voice raised in the commanding way he’d always used as a captain. 
since the day you’d met levi, he’d always been snappy, sarcasm dripping from his tongue, but he was never cruel. now, though, he was content to let his bitterness serve as a balm for his wounds instead of your affection. 
but things like that didn’t bother you anymore. a careless bite of snark couldn’t bother you when you’d been to hell and back with him. 
“okay.” you blinked, shifting on your heels, feeling stupid and confused and guilty. though for what, you weren’t sure. still, you could do nothing but stare as levi dragged himself back into the wheelchair, putting pressure on the leg that had not been completely shattered. “please be careful.”
“can you just—” levi snapped, but then his gaze met your own, piercing your lost, uncertain irises, and he softened. a long, careful sigh released, and he retraced his words, starting again. “i’m sorry. but you don’t need to worry so much. it’s been enough time.” 
you nodded, and levi turned back to his book, pulling himself closer to the table. as he glued his eyes on the pages, you glanced at his scars, his beautiful hands, a testament to his strength and all he’d done to survive. 
despite yourself, tears welled up in your eyes, and you batted them away, not wanting him to see. maybe, sometimes, levi didn’t feel the same... but you were grateful, every day, that he was still alive. “will you ever talk to me?” 
he turned, craning his neck to face you, playing the fool. “about what? i’m talking to you right now.” 
your lip quivered at his impassivity. “don’t do that again to me, levi. you know what i’m talking about. sometimes you're content to pretend like nothing’s changed, and it tears me apart.”
levi shifted his arms, regarded you with a long stare, his lips curled into something between a sneer and a frown. “then you’re welcome to leave. i don’t need a caretaker.” 
you gawked at him, knowing that he was only trying to push your buttons, but it annoyed you nonetheless. the comment was so out of left field that you couldn’t wrap your head around where it had come from. all you’d wanted to do was love him, show him your unwavering care and support, without feeling like a stifling annoyance. 
though, for a moment, doubt consumed you. maybe you hadn’t done enough. perhaps you had become a recluse of your own in the recent months, still recovering from everything you’d gone through. “leave? why would i leave?”
levi’s eyes narrowed, though more out of curiosity, a deep inhale escaping him. he peered back down at his hands, his legs, before deflating. “i’m not the person you fell in love with. i’m not humanity’s strongest anymore. i’m a man who can’t even stand on his own.” 
“levi—” you rubbed your hands together, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest. “do you honestly think i care about that? you hate being called that anyway.” 
he snorted, but it was full of a defeat you’d never known him to show. “maybe i got used to it.” 
silence fell between you, and though you understood, knew what he was admitting to you, you found yourself at a loss for a words. talking with levi had once been so easy, but now, it felt like you could never say the right thing. 
you opened your mouth, willing something sensible to come out, but levi beat you to it, slicing his chest open and bearing it to you with bloodied hands.
“i just…” he began, his face pinched at the sound of his weakened voice. “i’m just not sure what i’m supposed to do now. i spent the past decade fighting. and the decade before that, fighting. and the decade before that…” 
your heart ached. you took a step forward, close enough so you could touch him. “but you don’t need to fight anymore. the war is over.”
“the war is never over.” the words didn’t leave as much of a punch as he intended. levi finally turned to face you, something sad in his dark blue irises. “those brats could barely win with me, imagine them without me.” 
you softened. levi’s pain was unending. perhaps a part of him still grieved for the man he’d been before the war, but you knew that was not the reason for his melancholy. you knew, even if he never said it, that he felt as if he’d failed all the kids he’d brought onto his squad. that he’d failed eren.
“levi, they’re not children anymore,” you said quietly, grasping his hand. you remembered being nineteen, being thrust into the bloodshed and misery of the world you lived in. at least, now, levi’s squad could try to live a semblance of a normal life. they got an early start, a chance to try again, even if still wracked by anguish and longing. “if they need to fight, they can fight. you’ve done your time, my love. you’ve given more than enough.” you brushed your fingers along his scars. “let yourself rest.” 
a beat passed before he answered.
“i don’t know how.” 
you swallowed, biting back the sadness that you didn’t feel warranted to. sometimes, knowing everything that levi had suffered, knowing the depths of his pain, made you feel undeserving of your disdain towards the world. even if you were hurting too. 
“i know,” you said, running your other hand through his hair, flattening the pieces that had been disheveled in his sleep. “but i want to be there for you. i want to heal with you. please don’t push me away, levi. if you think you’re doing me a favor, you’re not.”
“i’m never going to be the same as i was before,” he said sharply, as if that could somehow change your mind.
you brought yourself closer to him, releasing his hand so you could wrap your arms around him instead, bring his head to your chest in a warm embrace. for once, levi didn’t protest. he leaned against you, inhaling, letting his arms rest limply on his lap. 
“no one is the same. the rumbling changed us all. even me. you’re such a fool if you think anyone can look at you and see a weak man.” you squeezed him tighter. levi’s arms came around you as tears spilled out of your eyes, his palm warm on your lower back. “you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met. it breaks my heart that you could think otherwise.” 
tears dripped off your chin, falling into his hair. although you tried to stop them, letting go of levi and sniffling to wipe your eyes, you couldn’t cease the ache in your chest. you released the sobs you’d held back for his sake, for everyone’s sake. 
why should you get to cry when everyone else had lost so much?
“i love you, just as you are. i fell in love with you because of the kindness in your heart, and i will always love you because of that. i—”
“hey,” levi pushed you away, reaching up to wipe at the tears that lingered on your cheek. “i didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, looking more horrified about that than he had the past few weeks of recovery and hospitalization. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”
“i’m okay,” you tried, lip quivering at the feeling of levi’s fingers on your cheek. it had been a while since you’d kissed him like you meant to, memories of war consuming every peaceful moment between you. 
“no. you’re not.” he sighed, stroking your face with tender eyes, the malice melting away from his expression completely. “you’re not. i should’ve noticed.” 
“i’m good about hiding it."
“that doesn’t make it any better,” he frowned, cupping your cheeks with both hands. “i know that better than anyone. i know you better than anyone.” 
you turned into his hand, kissing his palm tenderly, beneath the spot where his index and middle finger had once been, stopping him before he could apologize again. “and i know you, levi. i know we should both stop trying to hide our pain from the other, and try our best to move on together.” you sighed, smiling through your tears.  “can we do that?” 
levi stared at you for a moment, eyebrows knit together as he wiped at the wetness, the shadows under your eyes. though there was a battle behind his irises, a conflict, there always had been. for the remainder of his life, for the peaceful years you’d get to cherish together... even then, you weren’t sure levi could let go of the war. 
but that would be okay. after all, you’d always sworn to fight to the death by captain levi ackerman's side. 
the exhale from your chest breathed life through levi's inhale. a smile smile graced his lips as you finally stopped crying. he nodded.
“we can try.”
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thank you for reading! reblogs appreciated!
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nichoswag · 5 months
Note
im currently in desperate need of soft gut wrenching anton fluff like to the point i may sob i can barely find anything on tumblr for riize it makes me wanna cry!!!!
tummy . anton lee
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pairing: bf!anton x gn reader
warnings: gut wrenching fluff, kissing, a bit of play fighting, not proofread!
synopsis: anton can't bring himself to stop giving you tummy kisses even though you're ticklish.
a/n: a lil apology for my activity :( school is kinda draining and i now spend most of my time working and watching tv to relax :3 anyway, pls enjoy !! ♡
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you hear a sigh as the door to your bedroom opens and your boyfriend walks in.
"aaaaaanton!" you let your phone plop down beside you on the bed and sit up, making grabby hands towards him.
anton drops his bag on the floor and jumps onto the bed with you, nearly crushing you in the process. you giggle as he presses wet kisses to your face and neck.
"your mouth is wet!" you squeal, leaning away from him.
he blushes, realizing what he's doing, and backs up a bit. you watch him, still laying down, as he sits up and takes in your outfit.
"i love this top on you," he says softly, moving down the bed. wrapping his arms around your waist, your boyfriend rests his cheek against your stomach. his long legs move up to intertwine with yours as his hair tickles your tummy.
you giggle, attempting to push him away from your stomach, but his grip is solid. "baaaabe, that tickles!"
he just laughs softly and takes your hands in one of his, pressing kisses to your tummy. you squirm and squeal, but it's pointless, as you know he won't let you go anytime soon.
after a while of playing like this, he finally releases your hands and stops his assault on your stomach.
you catch your breath, staring at him with a playful pout.
"whaaat?" he pokes your face. "your tummy is just so cute, i couldn't help it..." he mutters the last part under his breath, but you can still hear him.
you smile at him, moving to lay with him - or so he thinks. you roll on top of him, caging him in with your body and pinning his arms down.
you grin down at him. "my turn."
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©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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I really hope you mean here 🤭
Request: "Remus is being rude to the reader due to the upcoming full moon.. make it as angsty as you can"
Thanks for requesting babe <3
cw: migraine, Rem is mean :(
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
When you come home from work, the apartment is dark and there’s evidence of Remus’ shit day everywhere. 
The curtains are drawn closed against the sunlight, and there’s a discarded blanket on the couch and several snack containers half-emptied on the coffee table. One of them has tipped onto the floor, a mess of crisps your boyfriend was likely feeling too unwell to tidy. He’s spilled tea on the table, too. These kinds of things are more common in the days before the full moon, but you think he must really be having a rough one. Even a few unwashed dishes in the sink is usually enough to stress Remus out, so he has to have been in a state to leave things like this. 
You brew a fresh cup of tea, grabbing some chocolates from the cabinet in case he didn’t bring any with him, and broach the bedroom. A shape moves under the sheets when the door creaks open. 
“Hi,” you say softly. You kneel by the bed, lightly touching the ends of Remus’ hair. “How are you, love?” 
“Bad,” he mutters from beneath the covers. You wince. He must be, if he won’t even lower the sheets beneath his eyes. 
You do your best to keep the pity from your voice, knowing he’d hate it. “I brought you some tea,” you murmur, “if you want it.”
“Can’t right now.” 
“It’s chamomile,” you coax. “It might help—”
“I can’t.” The low rumble of his voice takes on a hard edge, and you fall instantly silent. You nod even though he can’t see it, setting the tea and chocolate on his nightstand as quietly as you can. 
You don’t tell him you’re going, sure every footstep is agonizingly loud for him. You force down the lump in your throat. Remus is miserable right now; he’s not thinking about how his tone affects you, and that’s not his fault. He doesn’t mean anything by it. You can deal with it, help anyways.
You sweep instead of vacuuming, gathering the little bits of crisps into a dustpan and dumping them in the trash. The half-eaten snacks get reshelved in your cabinets, the puddle of tea cleaned off the coffee table, and candles lit to banish the stale smell in the living room. The cinnamon ones are usually Remus’ favorite, but you trade them out for lavender on the off chance it helps with his headache. You’re washing dishes one at a time so they don’t clatter when the bedroom door creaks open. 
“Hey,” you say, relieved. “Feeling better?” 
“No.” Remus’ voice is low, and the scratch of it tears at your heartstrings. He trudges to the end of the hall, where he stops, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. “I need you to be quiet.” 
“Oh, sorry.” You soften your voice, freezing with your hands submerged in the warm dishwater. “I’ve been trying, I didn’t realize you could hear. I’m almost done with this, so—” 
“Could you stop?” he asks, tone going harsh again. “Just, be quiet or find somewhere else to be, please. I can’t deal with this.” 
You swallow against the intrusion in your throat. Will away the heat from your face. “Okay,” you say, the word barely a whisper. 
Remus turns, plodding back to the bedroom. You hear the door shut.
You leave the dishwater to get cold rather than pouring it out and making more noise. You sit down on the couch with a book, eyes skimming over the words as you convince yourself over and over that it’d be stupid to cry about this. Your face heats, then cools. Tears blur your vision and you blink them away. This is ridiculous. Remus is just moody, he didn’t mean it. You know better than to take anything he says to heart right now. You can’t expect your efforts to be properly appreciated, but the important part is to keep making them. When he’s feeling better, he’ll thank you in a million sweet ways, because that’s who he is. He loves you. He didn’t mean it. 
It’s dark outside when the bedroom door creaks open again. You hadn’t noticed night falling, even when the light became too dim for you to make out the words on your page. You set your book down; you hadn’t been reading anyway. 
Remus sits next to you without a word. He leans the side of his head against the cushion with a sigh. 
“Dove?” he murmurs. 
You don’t dare do more than hum in response. 
A scarred hand finds your leg, the thumb sweeping back and forth over your skin. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” he says quietly. “That was…it was really mean. And undeserved.”
“I’m sorry I was being loud,” you reply, and you can’t help it, your throat clogs all over again. “I was just trying to help.” 
Your voice catches on the last word, and Remus makes a pained sound that has you silencing yourself instantly. He makes another at your response. 
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he rasps. “Do you want a hug?” 
You bite down on your lower lip. “Are you okay to hug?” 
“Yeah, sweetheart.” 
He meets you in the middle, pressing upon your shoulder blades like he can hold you together by sheer physical force. You try for his sake, swallowing the cries that rise in your throat. 
“I’m sorry,” he says again, palm marking a slow path up and down your back. “You weren’t too loud, I’m just fussy. You were only being your kind self. I had no reason to be so horrid.” 
“You weren’t horrid,” you warble. “I know you’re having a hard time.” 
“That’s no excuse.” His palm makes its way back to your shoulders just in time to feel the first little sob escape you. Remus’ grip tightens. “Aw, dovey. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t believe I spoke to you like that.” 
“It’s okay.” 
“It’s not,” he murmurs, kissing the exposed bit of skin where your shirt is slipping down your shoulder. “It’s not, and—” He pauses, looking around the room for the first time. “Did you clean?” 
You nod against his front, feeling the pained sigh that leaves him. 
“Fuck, I’m awful.” 
“You’re not.” 
“You were cleaning up my mess, and I yelled at you.” Now Remus’ voice sounds a tad raw too. He gathers you closer, stubble scratching your forehead as he kisses your hairline. “My sweet girl. You should have ripped me a new one.” 
“You weren’t yelling,” you point out, teasing a bit now, “and anyway, it seemed like you were already being ripped a new one.” 
“Still,” he mumbles into your hair. “You lit the lavender candles and everything. You deserve to put me through hell.” 
“You’re already going through hell,” you remind him gently, brushing a kiss against his cheek. “I don’t need to help the process along. Do you want some tea, love?” 
Remus hums. “I do, but let me get it. Let me get some for you, too, yeah?” He leans back to look down at you. “You want some nighttime tea, darling?” 
You’re alright really, but you tell him you do anyway. He looks nearly happy as he drags himself into the kitchen, and he won’t stop mollycoddling you for the rest of the night. 
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chrisevansonly · 6 months
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𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜
ʚ charles leclerc x female reader
ʚ nothing is more special than watching your baby boy take his first steps…and of course watching your husband get emotional that his little one is growing up…
ʚ no warnings, very soft and fluffy
ʚ i really wanted to write a dad!charles so here we are even if i still feel iffy about my writing lol, i hope you guys enjoy it! requests are still open for little blurb ideas, fics, smau’s etc<3
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For parents there was never a greater joy than watching their child grow, learn and get more and more curious as they became older. For little Théo Leclerc who had just turned 9 months, he was proficient at crawling and getting into anything and everything, you blamed his father’s drive and determination on that. He was as curious as babies come, intrigued in anything his mother and father were doing, he loved playing with coloured blocks, reading bedtime stories with his parents at night, he was the definition of a blessing to both you and Charles.
“good morning chérie, smells delicious down here”
You smiled turning to press a gentle kiss to Charles’s cheek, a soft smile on your face
“morning my love, thought i’d make some pancakes, Théo has been loving them”
“his mother is an amazing cook can you blame him? where is he anyway, it’s too quiet…”
You laughed pointing over to the little area you had set up on your living room, toys and books spilled across the hardwood floor
“he has been quite busy this morning, haven’t you petit prince?”
Cooing slightly at the mini Charles in the corner he giggled looking at you, upon noticing his father he began to wiggle on the floor, slowly making his way over on his hands and knees
“es-tu impatient de me voir bébé!?”
Théo squealed happily, finally making it to Charles who was quick to pick up the happy baby, who’s hands rested on his father’s face
“Look at that happy face! He’s so cute it makes me want to cry…are you so happy to see papa?”
You laughed seeing the smile on his face as he wiggled around in Charles’s arms, coming over to press kisses across his face only intensifying it
“You are going to squirm right onto the floor if you keep doing that”
Théo only giggled, his hands grabbing at the now cooking pancakes that rested on his plate
“Papa will put you in your chair and you can have some breakfast okay my love?”
“Can’t have you hungry can we little worm”
Snorting out a laugh you turned to him
“Little worm?”
“Have you seen him when he does that wiggle? You should hold him when he does it, he’s like a worm”
Shaking your head you couldn’t help but realize that was probably a good nickname for your son, when he got excited there was no stopping that wiggle.
-
Théo was quick to finish his breakfast, never leaving anything behind on his plate, so while you cleaned up, you set him down gently on the floor, though he never really stayed in one place, so as your back was turned he had made it over to his dad who was sitting in the living room, cleaning up the mess baby tornado had left behind. Upon reaching the couch, Théo had grabbed onto the couch to stand up, gripping onto the fabric he got to his feet, letting out a squeal, instantly catching the attention of Charles.
“What are you up too bébé, sois prudent…”
On instinct he moved a bit closer before pausing when Théo began to take steps towards him
“Chérie, regarde ça! Théo marche!”
Quickly turning to look towards the living room you grabbed your phone, immediately walking over to film your baby boy, tears in your eyes as you smiled
“Bravo petit prince! Tu vas si bien!”
Théo giggled walking a few more steps before collapsing into his fathers chest
“He-He walked! Char…he-I can’t believe he walked!”
Joining your boys on the floor you couldn’t help but notice the little tears that rested on your husbands cheeks as well, taking your thumb and gently wiping them off his skin
“I can’t believe it…he-he walked right to me, please tell me you got that”
Nodding you showed him the video once again on your phone, getting to experience the moment all over again, Charles hugging Théo closer
“You’re growing up too fast…can’t believe you’re walking”
“Aw baby, he’s still little…don’t worry”
You kissed his cheek gently, a hand rubbing Théo’s back softly
“Tu seras toujours le petit prince de papa, n'est-ce pas?”
He giggled wiggling around a little bit for Charles to put him back down, watching as he began to crawl around once again
“I’m going to miss him as a baby…”
“I know you will, but we still have some time…besides, who said we have to stop at one?”
Hearing your words Charles looked at you, a slight twinkle in his eyes
“Je suppose que nous avons du travail à faire…”
You smiled shaking your head before pressing a firm kiss to his lips, only pulling away when Théo began to walk once again, only this time heading away from you both
“Well here we go…”
Laughter filled the room as you and Charles took after your now very quick baby boy, what you thought was fast at a crawl, seemed to be lightning speed now that he was on his feet.
You wouldn’t change anything for the world, you’re family was perfect, and you couldn’t be happier…even if your little one was growing up too fast…
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lovelybucky1 · 6 months
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Smoke Me Out
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Kinktober Day 3- Corruption Kink
warnings: female!reader, college!au, drug use (weed), slight age gap (everyone 18+), slight dubcon, sex while under the influence, childhood friends, brothers best friend!anakin, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, cum play, tattooed and pierced anakin, 18+ minors dni
masterlist
kinktober masterlist
you are half way through your first semester of college and you've never felt more uncool in you're entire life. you rushed for a sorority and you got into alpha delta pi, and though they have parties every weekend where you get drunk, you still feel like you're missing a key aspect of the college experience.
you want to get high. you've never smoked anything before and you're nervous to ask your sorority sisters or a frat guy to help you through your first time. you didn't know who else to ask to supply good stuff or even who to trust other than anakin.
you've known him forever. he's your brother's best friend and he was always around when you were growing up. you used to have the biggest, most hopeless crush on him when you were younger. now he's a junior at the same college you go to, but it's a state school, everyone from your hometown goes there.
when you finally decide to ask anakin to give you some weed, you text him, telling him you're coming over. no information or anything, just "omw".
you walked the mile or so to the off campus house anakin shares with your brother and a couple other friends. when you walk up, you see the porch light is on, illuminating the figure on the porch.
"your brother's not here," anakin says instead of a greeting.
"i'm not here for him," you say as you skip up the porch steps. anakin sits on a dingy lawn chair and smokes a cigarette, the pungent smell filling the air.
"so what do you want?" he asks, raising a pierced brow at you.
"well..." you start, suddenly feeling embarrassed.
"well?"
"i want some weed."
anakin lets out a chuckle. "you're not serious."
"i am! i wanna do it but i don't want to do it for the first time with a stranger."
a slight smirk forms on anakin's lips but he does not make a comment about your double entendre.
"that's cute."
you frown. "i'm serious, anakin. can't you help me out?"
anakin hums like he's thinking about it. "no."
"what? why not?" you whine. "i can pay, i have money."
"it's not about the fuckin' money," he rolls his eyes. "i'm just not going to let my little sister get high."
"i'm not your little sister," you huff.
"might as well be."
"i'm an adult, anakin! i can make my own decisions."
he picks up his foot and stubs his cigarette out on the heel, then tosses the butt onto the porch. he stands up and now, instead of being blow you in the chair, he has to look down to meet your eyes.
"and i can decide not to give you any."
you cross your arms and look up at him. you know it's a bit childish, but if he's going to treat you like one anyway, what's the harm?
"fine then. i'll just get some frat guy to smoke with me."
that seemed to get a rise out of anakin. "no you fuckin' won't," he says, voice gruff.
"i will. you know i'm in a sorority now. i have frat guys busting down my door. i'm sure i'd have a line waiting if i said i wanted to smoke."
anakin's frustration seems to grow when he sees the smirk on your lips. without another word, he grabs your forearm and yanks you, forcing you to follow him into the house.
"anakin!" you exclaim, but he ignores you.
he practically drags you up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom. you've never been inside it, only having seen it from the doorway of your brother's room by the stairs.
he marches you over to his dresser and you take in the sight of the room. navy blue sheets on an unmade bed, dirty clothes on the floor, a pair of panties you suspect aren't his at the foot of the bed. empty beer cans, some with holes in the sides, litter the top of the dresser. he has a small box of jewlery for his piercings, a poster of his favorite band, and a framed picture of him with you and your brother as kids.
the room is gross, not unexpected for a 22 year old, but it feels like anakin. evidence of his vices everywhere, but touches of personality shine through.
"you want me to smoke you out, huh?" he opens the top right drawer of his dresser and takes out a pre-roll and a lighter. "here you go."
you take it from him, but you don't feel as excited as you thought. anakin's attitude is kind of killing your vibe.
"are you mad at me?" you ask.
"mad? no," he says, looking at you with crossed arms. "just a little annoyed that you came here beggin' for weed and got all bratty and started running your mouth when i said no."
"i did not get bratty!" you whine, sounding very bratty.
anakin rolls his eyes. he turns and walks towards the window, pushing it open and sitting down next to it. you follow and sit across from him, the blunt and lighter in each hand.
"what do i do?" you ask.
"christ, haven't you ever seen a movie before? you put this end in your mouth," he points to the filter end. "and you light this end."
you do as he instructs, and attempt to take a drag. you end up inhaling too deep and you start to cough, eyes watering. anakin doesn't laugh at you, but he does give you a satisfied little smirk.
you take another hit and this time it goes better, you only cough a little bit. anakin reaches over and grabs the blunt from your hand and you frown.
"you're not smokin' this whole thing yourself."
anakin puts it in his mouth, right were a ring of your lip gloss is, and took a drag just like he taught you, but his was perfect. he didn't cough or choke, and the cloud he exhaled swirled out the window.
he gives it back to you and watches as you take another clumsy drag. when you hand it to him again, he takes a long drag but doesn't pass it back.
"hey," you whine.
"that's enough for your first time," he says.
"that was barely anything, anakin."
"it hasn't hit you yet. you wanted me to take care of you, right?"
you huff. "yeah."
"so shut up."
you roll your eyes but decide not to argue further. you and anakin sit next to the window, letting the slight cool breeze blow in on you. you feel yourself become more fuzzy as time passes. you're not very high, but it just enough to satisfy your curiosity.
"how do you feel?" anakin asks after some time of silence.
"good. fuzzy."
"that's good. means you're not too far gone." anakin takes a pause before continuing. "i can't believe you were gonna let a fucking frat guy smoke you out. do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"
your eyes flick back up to meet his; you hadn't realized you were staring at his lips. "some of them are nice."
"nice," he scoffs. "they're only nice because they want to fuck."
"that's not true," you huff.
anakin takes a hit and when he speaks, smoke pours from his lips.
"jesus, you're so naïve. frat guys like dumb inexperienced sorority girls."
"are you calling me dumb?"
"yeah i am. you need to stay away from those guys."
"well it's a little too late for that," you bite.
anakin's brows furrow and his lip curls in disgust. "you didn't sleep with one of them, did you?"
"not just one."
anakin sighs loudly and shakes his head. "what the hell were you thinking?"
"i was at a party and we just had fun. don't act like you've never had casual sex before." anakin stubs out the blunt on the window sill and leaves it there to smolder. he gets up from the floor and walks around the room aimlessly. "why are you being so dramatic? are you jealous or something?"
anakin's eyes snap over to yours. "no, i'm not fuckin' jealous. no one's fuckin' allowed to touch you."
"why do you get to decide that?" you shout, feeling your blood boil with anger.
"because you're mine!" he yells back, running his hands through his hair in frustration. "i protect you, i keep you fucking safe from assholes like the ones you're just falling into bed with."
"i’m not a child, i don't need you to protect me!"
"i obviously haven't done a very good job. why would you even want a frat guy, they don’t know how to fuck.”
“and you do?”
you’re not sure why you said it. it’s irrelevant to the argument but for some reason it just slipped out. you can’t say you’ve never thought about how anakin would fuck before. you’ve spent many nights up late thinking about your older brother’s best friend.
“yeah i do,” he says, voice low. “i could show you what good sex is. it’s nothin’ like you had with those guys.”
your breath catches in your throat at the unexpected development. is anakin offering to fuck you?
“i thought you said i was like your little sister,” you say, suddenly timid.
“that's what you're hung up on?” he asks as he crosses the room in a few short strides. standing right in front of you, anakin towers over you. you have to crane your neck to look up at him, meeting his light eyes. "let me do my job and teach you something, huh?"
you shyly nod, none of the anger from moments ago fueling your actions any longer. desire burns in anakin's eyes, and although its odd that he is looking at you in such a way after being nothing more than platonic your whole life, it doesn't feel wrong.
"you want me to kiss you?" anakin asks. again, you nod.
he leans his head down and presses his lips to yours. it's not very tender, but you didn't expect it to be. his lips are slightly chapped and the kiss is rough. he's claiming you. anakin's hands grip onto your wrists and he pins them to your sides as he continues to explore your mouth.
when he pulls away, his lips glisten with spit and he's smirking down at you. he walks you over the bed and grabs the hem of your shirt. without saying anything, you raise your arms above your head and he takes it off, leaving you in your bra. anakin looks at your chest shamelessly, eyes drinking in the sight of you.
"anakin," you say, embarassed.
"what? you wanted me to fuck you and now you're getting all shy when i look at your tits?" he palms your breasts through your bra, watching them bounce. "how're you gonna react when i see your pussy?"
"don't say that," you whine.
"say what, pussy?" you nod. "aw, is that too dirty for you, sweetheart?"
he grins as he takes off his own shirt and tosses it to the floor. you ogle at his bare torso, acting like it's your first time seeing it. he has gotten more tattoos since the last time you saw him shirtless, and his left nipple has a silver bar through it.
without waiting for you to catch up, anakin undoes the buckle on his jeans and pushes them down to his ankles, kicking them off before removing his socks. now he's left only in a pair of loose plaid boxers that rest low on his hips, showing off the star tattoos on his hip bones. he then motions to you to do the same.
you kick off your shoes and socks, then more timidly, you take off your pants. you're left standing in your childhood crush's bedroom in your underwear.
"come on, take off your panties," he says, grinning. "let me see that pussy." you pout in response. he steps closer to you, putting his large, warm hands on your hips. "do you want me to do it for you?" you bite your lip and nod slightly.
he holds onto the waistband of your panties and pulls them down as he sinks to his knees. he lets the delicate fabric fall to the floor and he looks hungrily at the newly exposed area. he leans his face in and presses his nose to the joint of your leg and groin, taking a deep inhale of your scent.
"anakin!" you squeal, grabbing his hair and pushing his head away.
"what's wrong?" he asks, sitting back on his heels.
"don't be mean to me."
"i'm being mean? imagine how those frat guys would treat you. actually, don't."
anakin pushes you back on the bed and he crawls between your open legs, resting his cheek on your thigh as he stares at your pussy.
"what a pretty cunt," he smirks.
teasingly, he traces his finger over your slit, gathering your wetness. he circles your clit to gauge your reaction, delighted when you squirm.
"i bet most guys can't even find this. the most action it's probably seen is from you playin' with it yourself," he says, eyes flicking up to yours. "is that true?"
you squeeze your eyes shut and nod, evoking a laugh from anakin.
"this poor, neglected little pussy," he coos. "what do you think about when you touch yourself?"
"i-i'm not telling you that," you say, voice breathy.
anakin tuts as he pushes his long, slender middle finger into you.
"i bet it's not any of the guys who can't make you cum. is it a celebrity? what's the name of the actor you used to be obsessed with? i was so jealous if him."
"you, anakin," you whimper.
"what was that?"
"i think about you."
anakin grins and slides another finger into your pussy, curling them up to rub at that spot deep inside you.
"that's a good thing, then, because you're all i think about too."
"please fuck me, anakin," you beg, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears.
"already? but you've only taken two fingers. are you sure you're gonna be able to handle my cock?"
as desperate as you are, you're growing tired of anakin's coddling.
"i'm sure i've taken bigger. just fuck me."
anakin raises his eyebrows and blinks at you a couple times, clearly offended. he gets up from his knees and pulls down his boxers, letting his long, hard cock slap against his abdomen.
"alright then, since you want to be such a big girl, i'll give it to you."
he grabs your lower leg and hoists it over his shoulder as he lines his head up with your entrance.
"wait," you stop him. "are you clean?"
he gives you an unimpressed look. "yeah, i'm clean. are you?"
"yes," you nod.
"i'm not gonna knock you up, am i?"
"if it happens, it happens." anakin freezes. "i'm joking, you asshole. i'm on the pill."
he rolls his eyes and presses his tip into you. you whimper at the stretch but you give him the okay to keep going, so he continues. he feeds his cock into you and it feels never-ending.
"is it too big for you yet?" he asks smugly.
"shut up," you breathe.
after going slow to start, anakin seems to get tired of waiting. he pushes in until he's fully seated inside you, filling you up more than you ever have been. he then starts to rock his hips, driving his head deeper.
"fuck," he groans. "never imagined this pussy'd feel so good."
you reach down to rub your clit as he fucks you, feeling yourself becoming closer as he continues to stimulate your g-spot with his cock.
sex with your previous partners truthfully had not bern very satisfying. but with anakin, you find yourself hurtling towards the edge faster than you get with your favorite toy. maybe its from years of pent up attraction to him finally spilling over. maybe he’s just that good at sex.
“just like that,” you say breathlessly.
anakin is looking down at you with half-lidded, lust filled eyes. his mouth hangs open as he thrusts into you, really putting his back into it to fuck you hard like you deserve.
“little cunt’s squeezin’ my cock. guess she likes me, huh?” he asks with a smirk. you bring your arm up to cover your embarrassment from his babbling. “don’t be such a prude, i know you like what i’m sayin’. you’re soaking me. it’s dripping all the way down my balls, baby. you made such a mess of me with that slutty cunt.”
you let out an unintelligible whine and anakin laughs. your fingers speed up on your clit as anakin fucks you harder, keeping up with the intensity of the stimulation.
“i’m gonna cum,” you say quietly, like you’re confessing a shameful sin.
“yeah?” he asks. “cum all over my dick, baby. ‘m all yours.”
after a few more thrusts, the tension in your stomach releases and your orgasm washes over you. anakin continued to fuck you through it, dragging it out longer than just a few seconds.
when you finally let yourself relax, the stimulation becomes too much and you whine at anakin, telling him to stop.
“your little cunt not used to it being that good?” he asks as he pulls out.
his cock stands against his abs, slightly curved and glistening with your cum. he strokes himself as he looks at your body, deciding how he wants to cum.
“get on your knees,” he says.
“i don’t wanna blow you,” you saw, furrowing your brows at the thought of your juices in your mouth.
“i wanna cum on your tits. get on your knees.”
you stand from the bed on wobbly knees and kneel on the ground in front of anakin. he positions his dick in front of your face, but too far to taste it. he jerks himself off, using your cum as lube to make the glide smoother.
“look up at me,” he demands. you do so, looking up at his face with wide eyes instead of at his cock. “those pretty eyes,” he mumbles.
you watch his abs clench and flex as he nears his orgasm. it’s almost mesmerizing to see the physical reaction he has to you.
“want you to cum on me, anakin,” you say.
maybe you’re playing it up a bit for his sake, but it seems to work, because suddenly he’s moaning and hot spurts of cum paint your skin. he continues to jerk himself off until he’s finished, and as he catches his breath, he admires his artwork.
“fuck, baby,” he sighs.
anakin drops to his knees in front of you and drags his fingertips through the mess on your tits.
“that wasn’t your pay of getting payment for the weed, was it?” you ask, giggling.
“fuck no,” he pants. “nah, i did that cause i wanted to. and now i’m never gonna let you look at another frat guy again.”
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marlenesluv · 3 months
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charles + over-worked uni gf (hc)
note: i personally love when im doing hw, and then i find one of these “f1 driver x uni!gf!reader” fics cuz im like “omg me and i love this driver!” so i hope, if you are in uni, that you take breaks and make sure you’re eating, drinking water, and sleeping. ik it’s easy to skip these things <3
paining: charles leclerc x uni!reader (max near the end)
warnings: fluff but it goes to smut…oops, couldn’t resist. slight exhibitionism with max (i went off topic mb)
head-cannon: charles’ gf is overworking herself in uni, and he hates seeing her so stressed out
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۵ being charles’ girlfriend was incredible, you loved the fans, the races, and obviously, charles.
۵ but being in uni at the same time? that was hard. you spent races writing papers. plane rides were spent reading textbooks. and any free time? spent in person for lectures and study groups.
۵ and charles supported you. he understood if you couldn’t make a race because of a test. or if you needed time alone because the paddock was overstimulating along with your workload.
۵ like now, you were holed up in charles’ driving room during free practice in singapore because you had a lab due at 11:59pm, and the time in the corner of your laptop mocked you as the deadline grew closer and you grew more frustrated.
۵ charles hated seeing his girlfriend stressed. you should be in the paddock having fun, not nearly in tears in his drivers room :(
۵ so when he comes back from practice, he’s determined to spend the rest of the night with you.
۵ “pack up. we are going to get some takeout and i’ll help you study. then we can watch a movie, okay?” and it wasn’t even a question. he was already packing your books in your bag and throwing your pens in your pouch.
۵ charles helps you grab all your stuff, and hold the door open for you as you guys leave and say goodbye to the engineers.
۵ and although he had plans with carlos, carlos understands. everyone knows how much you study and work to get the grades you have. so no, carlos doesn’t mind when charles ditches him to cheer you up. he has isa to bother anyways.
۵ speaking of isa, she’s giving you a hug and telling you to relax tonight, enjoy spending time with your boyfriend.
۵ when you and charles got back to the hotel room with bags of takeout, charles makes a bed on the floor and puts your favorite movie on.
۵ “you didn’t need to do this, char. i know you’re busy, you have a race soon…” you would trail off, cuddling closer into his side.
۵ charles playfully rolls his eyes and kisses your head, he keeps telling you how much he loves you and would rather spend time with you than practice.
۵ he just wants you to de-stress, no matter what it takes…
۵ so yeah, as you’re watching the movie, charles might get a little bored, and he looks over and sees your cracking your knucklp
es, which he knows is a nervous habit of yours.
۵ the way you bit the inside of your cheek in attempt to calm down, and the only thing charles has going through his head is ‘you need to help her relax.’
۵ so when charles lifts the blanket off of you and helps you out of your sweats, who are you to question him? he knows you like the back of his hand.
۵ “come here, mon cherié.” charles lifts your hips, only to make you shimmy over his mouth. “char, i don’t want to-“
۵ he rolls his eyes, scoffing and making you put all your weight down.
۵ thirty minutes could go by and he wouldn’t even think about coming up for air, he is absolutely pussy drunk. all that he can think is making you fun over and over and over again.
۵ and obviously, the man is skilled, he knows how to use his tongue and fingers, having you absolutely melting above him. your hands shooting out to hold onto his hair for stability.
۵ you feel his laugh, making you gasp and squirm, which causes him to hold your hips tighter and go a little slower.
۵ this could go on for hours.
۵ his stamina is incredible, he works out all the time. if anything, it’s a neck workout since he’s holding his neck mid-air to meet your core.
۵ even when max calls to check up on him? nope, hes not stopping, he’s just carried you to the bed, fucking you as he’s talking to max.
۵ and charles doesn’t even care. max knows how stressed you are about uni, and he knows that charles calms you down. its not like charles hasn’t told him about a thousand times…
۵ max can hear charles’ grunts and how you’re trying to suppress your whines, the way charles pin your hand above your arm because he wanted max to know how good you felt.
۵ and after that night? yeah, you were definitely relaxed.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
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kitten4sannie · 28 days
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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ + ʀᴏʙᴏᴛꜱ
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ꜱᴇᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ/ꜱᴇɴꜱᴏʀʏ ᴅᴇᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ➠ ꜱᴀɴ
pairing: cyber stripper! san x gang leader! reader (fem) feat. gang member! wooyoung and a surprise cameo from matz <3
genre: cyberpunk au, smut
summary: too accustomed to chaos and bloodshed as a hardened gang leader, you need to wind down a bit with the help of san, a popular cyber stripper you always find yourself coming to visit in downtown neo city.
w.c: 4.5k
warnings: 2k words of plot, depictions of blood/violence in the intro, a cute lil cigarette kiss ;; (irl smoking is so bad for you DON’T DO IT 🫵🏼), references to the game cyberpunk, alcohol use, pussydrunk maniac switch! san, subby babygirl switch! reader, cybernetic body parts…..dykwim…., only praise in this one (shocking ik), pet names, dirty talk, use of a tie as a blindfold, oral (receiving), spit play, fingering, san grinds into the bed bc he’s so needy :(, cockwarming, tit play, kissing, dick riding, nipple play (f/m receiving ehehehe), mating press…., creampies galore !!!!
a/n: reuploaded bc tumblr wants to play games…. i hope this ends up in the tags or else i’m gonna be pissed ;; anyways!! this was one of my absolute faves to write i just ADORE cyberpunk stuff so i almost couldn’t stopp >< it makes me wanna turn this into a series or something ;^; so aaaaaaaAAA i can’t believe fff is over *sobs* this was such an amazing journey and i just wanna thank each and every one of you for coming along, supporting me, and leaving me the most wonderful feedback i could ask for 🥹🫶🏼 im thinkinggg about doing kinktober this year sooo see you then? ~~ <3
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ʜᴏɴᴇʏ (ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ?) ʙʏ ᴍᴀɴᴇꜱᴋɪɴ
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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ
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In Neo City, you had two options: live a life of crime and bloodshed all in the name of the almighty dollar, or be out on the streets, doing whatever necessary to feed yourself, doomed to be forgotten by the cruel sands of time, all while the rich got richer and the poor got poorer. Even in a city that sported the newest advances in technology, highly developed amenities, and shiny, lit-up streets filled with opportunities for material surplus and virtual sin, it all remained the same in the end. It made you feel hopeless the longer you thought about it — not that you ever had much time to think about anything, given your chaotic lifestyle. 
Right on cue, a group of enemy gang members filed in through the broken-down garage door that led to your cramped hideout, immediately shouting profanities at you and firing off in all directions, trying to pick off as many of your underlings as they could, only successfully grazing a few of them with hot lead. 
“Boss, you better get down here!” Wooyoung, one of your most trusted underlyings, shouted from the bottom floor of the makeshift living space, wiping a bit of sweat from his sharp jaw, nervously licking at the mole on his lip as he slowly dragged one of his injured friends away from the commotion and placed him behind a bullet hole ridden couch. 
Still inside your bedroom on the second floor, you went straight for a silver case that you kept underneath your bed and set it down on the mattress, flipping it open. You sighed at its contents, about to shed a tear. Good thing you had picked up something this useful at the last illegal cyber swap meet you attended. 
“Boss! Help! Please!” the young underlying called out in a slightly higher pitched tone, now hiding behind the couch, hastily pushing a few bullets into the chamber of his smoking gun, accidentally dropping a few of them onto the concrete floor below. 
“Coming!” You pressed a few buttons on your sleek metal arm, eventually sliding a large metallic blade into the open metal seams until it locked in, blue streams of light darting back and forth through the seams to let you know that it was ready to use. You ran down the stairs, the sound of your heavy boots hitting the pavement growing silent upon stepping into something wet. 
Seeing the spilled blood of your members, your family, sent you over the deep end. Red rings of light circled around your straining pupils, and a faint ringing overtook your ears, not fully in control of your body when you began to take your enemies head-on, dodging their bullets and slicing them up until your hideout was stained with more crimson. 
After the massacre was finally over, you slowly made your way back to one of the couches that had your injured cohorts haphazardly laying on it, either smoking cigarettes or clutching onto their wounds, some doing both at once, their eyes glazed over, the post-fight flood of dopamine hitting their wired brains. You plopped onto the couch where they left you a seat like always, ran your fingers through your damp hair and pulled out a cigarette from your blood-stained jacket, turning your head to face your dear friend, leaning in close to him.
With a lit cigarette in between his lips, Wooyoung quietly closed the space between the two of you, the end of his cig kissing yours until it was lit. You both silently studied each other’s sweaty faces, simply existing in the moment after the chaos. 
“What was it about this time…?” you asked softly, after you turned your head to blow out a puff of smoke, leaning your back into the couch. 
“It was over some dumb shit…” Wooyoung settled into the couch as well, angling his head up towards the ceiling. He rubbed at the cut on his cheek with his hoodie sleeve, smearing some blood across his tan skin. “One of our guys accidentally sold some dorph on the wrong turf. Then he got a little trigger happy when someone made a big fucking deal about it.” 
“Ahh…” You let out a long sigh, taking in a drag of the cigarette, the collective taste of smoke and iron lingering inside your mouth. Whether or not it was wrong to take the lives you did wasn’t up to you to decide. It was your maker’s when your metal ticker finally decided to give up on you.
You lingered there a bit longer, unconsciously reaching over to run your fingers through Wooyoung’s sweaty, disheveled hair, giving his head a few gentle pats, wanting him to know that you were proud of his constant bravery and loyalty to you without actually being able to say it yourself. You could kill in cold blood but shuddered in fear over speaking from the heart. How ironic. 
It wasn’t until Wooyoung hesitantly placed his hand over your bruised knuckles and nuzzled the inside of your palm that you pulled away, putting out your cigarette in a full ashtray that was sitting on the messy coffee table in front of you. You reached into one of your jacket pockets and pulled out a stack of Eddies, tossing it into Wooyoung’s lap. “Take anyone injured with you down to Yunho’s shop. Get yourself fixed up for me, okay?” 
Wooyoung flipped through the stack, looking up at you with wide eyes as you stood up from the couch and stretched. “Are you sure? This is way more than we need, Boss…” 
“I know.” You turned to look down at your beloved cohort, reaching down to caress his cheek with a gentleness you were surprised you still possessed after all those long, violent nights you spent taking lives and accruing their blood-stained cash, briefly licking at your thumb and rubbing the dried blood from his cheek. “Get yourself some upgrades while you’re there. You’ve earned it.”
Wooyoung stayed completely still, like he didn’t want to scare you off, his cheeks growing hotter by the second. Once he saw that you were simply standing there, letting the moment happen, his face softened and his eyes lit up, his lips curling up into a bright smile, wanting to say so much more than, “Thank you, Boss…” 
As you made your way back up to your room and into your shower to clean yourself up, you thought about the pretty smile Wooyoung gave you. It reminded you of someone you hadn’t seen in quite a while, his dimpled smile never seeming to leave the partly synthetic confines of your mind. Pressing your metal hand into the tile wall for support, you felt your thumping heart skip a beat, a few beads of sweat dripping past your flushed cheeks, making you wonder if your shower was too hot, or if you were going soft. It’s not like you were in love with him. He was the most sought-after cyber stripper in downtown Neo City, after all. He probably had an army of rich corpo men and women already lined up just waiting to sweep him off his feet. Sure, you had money like them, but theirs wasn’t tainted in the same way. They weren’t tainted like you, doomed to a life of voluntary solitude. You pressed your hot cheek into the cool tile, glancing downwards to watch the red-tinted water swirl around into the drain. None of it mattered, anyways. You just needed a drink and a good fuck. That was all. 
࿏࿏࿏
“I want a vodka on the rocks. Don’t give me that cheap shit either,” you told the small robot that rolled up beside your VIP table, tapping lightly against its smooth chrome surface. You looked to the side, spotting a robotic couple that couldn’t keep their hands off of each other on the large dance floor of the crowded club, causing you to sink lower against the soft cushions behind you. “You know what? Just bring me the whole bottle.” 
The robot blinked its simple eyes at you through the clear glass, calculating its response. “A full bottle of alcohol is not recommended for consumption by a singular person. Can I perhaps recommend–”
“I recommend you shutting the fuck up, robot.” You snapped a finger in its direction, crossing one leather bound thigh over the other, shoving a few bills into the slot that was placed in the middle of its machinery. “Now, get going.” 
You watched the robot slowly roll away into the crowd of patrons, before your attention snapped to the middle stage when people and cyborgs alike began to cheer. No one seemed to notice when two elegant looking men decked out in shades and fur coats that smelled suspiciously of gunpowder made their way across the busy club, especially not once the stage suddenly became bathed in sinful red lighting, the cyber stripper you swore up and down you weren’t in love with taking slow, deliberate steps across it. 
Dressed in a form-fitting suit that you’d probably see a stuck-up corpo drone wearing on his way to work, San eventually stood at the edge of the stage and ran his hands slowly up his body as soon as a bass-heavy, seductive track bumped through the large speakers around you, a voice announcing, “It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for, folks. Our very own hopeless romantic, Choi San, is blessing the stage with his new routine. You better bring out the big bills if you want to see what kind of cyber parts he’s got hiding underneath those tight clothes of his.” 
Just as the robot brought you your bottle of alcohol, you took a long swig from it, sinking down a little more into your seat, reaching into one of your pockets just to feel the stacks of cash that still sat inside, unable to take your eyes off of the cyber stripper that turned away from you and the crowd to show off the curves off his ass through his tight work pants, gently pulling his blazer off and revealing just how small his waist looked from behind. 
A few people threw money at him, cheering and whistling, as he rolled his body along to the sultry music, leaning his head back dramatically just as he began to tug his tie off, an overtly erotic expression woven into his hypnotically beautiful face. 
Just as the music began to come to an intense peak, he dropped to his knees, bringing the tie up into his mouth to bite down onto it, expertly rolling his hips in a fluid motion like he was fucking into someone on the stage floor. The crowd went absolutely apeshit, Eddies floating in the air around San, everyone’s attention on the club’s most beloved stripper — but, like clockwork, his attention was on you. See, San was a sucker for a woman in power, for a femme fatale that could provide him raw, unadulterated excitement, and he simply couldn’t get you out of his mind, couldn’t stop reminiscing about what it felt like to have you underneath him, taking all that he could give you. 
His piercing, cat-like eyes never left yours, even as he unbuttoned his vest and tugged it off, revealing an expanse of smooth tan skin and straining muscles, grabbing someone’s hand to run it along the pronounced ridges of his abs, his tongue swiping across his lips.  
You took a few more sips of your liquid courage, one hand clutching your thigh, hardly able to handle the blinding heat that blazed away inside your core. It wasn’t until San began to unbuckle his tight pants and gently ease them down just enough to show off the edges of his hips and the neat trail of hair that led to his cock, that you got up onto your feet and made your way up to the main stage, a few patrons taking cautious steps out of your way when they saw your face. It turned up on their holo devices during the evening news too frequently for them to not know who you were.
Quite amused with your presence, San stood directly above you with his hands on his bare hips, giving you a good view of his half-hard cock pressing into the thin material of his pants, his hands slowly running from his hips down to his inner thighs, just barely grazing over his cock each time. “It’s good to see you again, angel. Are you here to have some fun with me?” 
Barely able to speak, let alone think, with the way your head, heart, and cunt was pounding, you pulled the stack of bills out of your pocket and reached up to pull the lip of his pants down, revealing his cock to yourself and the enthusiastic crowd just long enough to tuck the stack comfortably inside the hem. “Need to fuck you, San,” you requested softly, but firmly enough that it roused the cyber stripper enough to jump down from the stage and pick you up bridal style. 
It wasn’t until San brought you to one of the empty love rooms and sat you down on the edge of the heart-shaped bed that you complained. “You can’t just carry me around like that in front of everyone, San…I have a reputation…” 
San stood in front of you, reaching down to run his fingers through your hair, humming softly, rings of light rapidly rushing around the edges of his eyes. “You know your reputation doesn’t matter when you’re here with me, baby…” He reached for the bottom of your chin, tilting it up towards his smiling face, his thumb gently pressing into your bottom lip. “Just your pleasure.” 
“My…pleasure…” you repeated in a soft whisper, your hand automatically reaching out to settle on his hips. 
“Yes, sweetheart.” San slowly brought himself down to you, pressing his lips lightly against yours, just enough to draw you in. He pulled away teasingly, seeing the desperation inside your fervent gaze, his own eyes creasing with mischievous amusement. “Should I give you a reminder?” 
You swallowed hard, not wanting your thumping heart to somehow leap out of your throat and ruin the moment with the cybernetic man you most definitely weren’t in love with. “Yes, please…” 
San, who had his tie hanging loosely from his neck, took it off and leaned down, wrapping it around your head to block your vision. Sensing your slight hesitation, he cradled your jaw, pressing a few kisses along it, whispering, “It’ll feel so much better when I put my mouth on you like this…Trust me.” 
San wasn’t lying. Since your vision was blacked out, you focused entirely on where he touched you once he discarded your clothes, feeling his strong hands slide along your thighs, his thumbs spreading you apart, his tongue slowly lapping at your cunt, his warm breath and spit hitting your clit when he sucked on it. “Fuck, San….” 
Your hands went straight into his styled hair, though he didn’t care one bit when you began to mess it up by tugging on it, simply burying his face deeper into your cunt to drag his tongue rapidly back and forth over your sensitive clit, groaning all the while. When your thighs squeezed around his head, he clutched them tight, holding them in place. “You’ll be good and cum all over my face, won’t you, baby? You’ll let me get a taste of you?” 
“Yes, San…I’m so close already…” You nodded weakly, desperately wishing you could see what the man of your dreams looked like in between your thighs, but choosing to be patient, not realizing what his next plan of attack was until you were being filled by two thick fingers, moaning at the feeling of them rubbing eagerly against your pulsing walls. “Oh my god, San…!” 
“Baby, won’t you call me by my other name? The one I like to hear?” he sighed against your cunt, giving it one long lick past his thrusting fingers to your clit, pursing his lips to send a wad of spit onto it, before he licked it up once more. 
“Sannie…” you moaned out, feeling a familiar heaviness pool within your core, the muscles in your thighs starting to tighten up, your fingers gripping the man’s hair just a little tighter. “Make me cum, please, I’m right there…” 
San moaned back just from hearing you call out his name in such a way, starting to desperately thrust his hips forward against the side of the mattress, wanting to get some friction against his large, aching cock. “I’ll make you cum so hard, baby, just like always,” he promised haphazardly with his lips and tongue on your clit, fervently licking at it with his small pink tongue, easily slipping in a third digit into your squelching hole, curling them up just in time to hear you let out a shaky cry. “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that…You’re so good for your Sannie…” 
When you came, you came hard, your body fully locking up once the intense waves of pleasure washed over you, unable to keep yourself from tugging the tie from your eyes once you could catch your breath. The already low lights of the room hurt your eyes for a second, having to blink a few times to truly focus on the state of the man who just sent you to cyber heaven. He was looking up at you with his big brown eyes, small digital hearts present within them, his raven hair tousled, a few damp strands clinging to his forehead. His cheeks and arousal-stained lips sported an alluring reddish hue, the flush making its way all the way down to his long, curved cock, the tip of it leaking vast amounts of pre-cum onto the floor below. 
“You made me feel so good, Sannie,” you praised him softly, reaching down to caress his warm cheek, running your thumb across the cute mole underneath his eye. “You deserve to feel good too, don’t you?” 
“Uh-huhhh…I’m so hard, it hurts…” The dominance San once displayed was instead overcome with submissive neediness, a whimper leaving his lips, once he began to rub his cock against the mattress a bit harder, looking up to you for approval. 
“Aww, do you want to rub your cock against my pussy instead of using the bed like that?” you asked teasingly, pressing your thumb into his bottom lip. 
“Yes, please…” 
That was all it took for you to reach down for his hands, coaxing him onto the bed with you and gently pushing him down onto his back. “You always take such good care of me, Sannie, always take such good care of everyone that visits you…Do you want to be taken care of like that too?” you spoke softly, as you straddled him and slowly sank down onto his oversized cock, feeling its sleek, cybernetic curves fill you up just right. 
“Yeah, I do…Please take care of me, Y/N…” San moaned loudly when your bodies finally connected, all the synthetic pleasure he felt in his cock going straight to his head, entirely grateful for the recent upgrades he got from his ripperdoc. 
You stayed still on his lap, simply cockwarming him until you felt that you should move, leaning down to press kisses into his neck and along his collarbone, his pre-cum causing a soft squelching sound to escape where your bodies joined together. “You feel so much bigger inside…Did you get a naughty upgrade, Sannie?” 
“I got the pleasure package…” San murmured shyly, reaching up to rub his hands along your thighs, slowly making his way up past your waist to your chest to knead your tits against his palms. “It increased my length and width by three inches, gives me longer cumshots, and makes me more sensitive…” 
You giggled softly, moving your hips up and lowering them back down just to make San groan out from the sudden slick friction, hovering above him, your faces a few inches away from each other. “Want me to milk you dry, Sannie?” you asked underneath your breath, running your hands up along his abdomen to his chest, feeling his muscles contract slightly underneath your touch. 
San bit into his bottom lip, his cock pulsing steadily inside your leaking cunt, wondering if his rapidly beating heart was simply a glitch in his coding. “Yeah…” 
That was all it took for you to rest your hands securely on the fullness of his chest, and begin desperately bouncing on his throbbing cock, not wanting to stop until he filled you up so deep with his load, that you’d be willing to survive another day in Neo City. 
“Y/N, fuck, you’re so tight,” San whined, squeezing your tits in between his fingers, eventually letting his hands slide down your abdomen until he got to your cunt, taking turns rubbing each of his thumbs into your sensitive clit, causing your hips to stutter. “Come on, baby, don’t you dare stop riding my cock…You’re going to cum just like this…”
“Just like this, Sannie?” you panted out, smiling at the way he desperately nodded back, gently squeezing his chest in a similar fashion, running your own thumbs along the hardness of his nipples, delighted with the way he began to arch his back into your touch. “All of you is so sensitive, huh? Not just your cock…” 
“It all feels so good, baby. You make me feel amazing…It drives me crazy…” San jolted suddenly when you pinched one of his nipples, emitting a whiny sound of approval, starting to buck his hips up into you on his own.
“You drive me crazy too, Sannie…I can’t seem to stay away from you…” you admitted softly, pressing your hands into his pecs, before slowly lowering yourself down to his lips to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Then, don’t…” San whispered back, before he caught your mouth against his, your lips and tongues meeting in the middle, getting lost in the heat of the moment, reaching for your hips so that he could drive himself further inside you. It didn’t seem to be enough; he needed to be closer to you, needed his cum to reach your womb. 
“Sannie…!” you suddenly gasped out, when he rolled onto you and and positioned himself so that he had you in a proper mating press, his throbbing, dripping cock slipping back into you, much deeper this time. 
“Need to fuck you full, baby, need you to have my cum so deep in your pretty pussy, it won’t drip out until you get home…” San began to drool into your mouth, sucking gently on your tongue, despite the way he began pounding himself into you so hard, you couldn’t seem to catch your breath, instead having to just take what he gave you. 
“Please, Sannie– Please, give it to me!” You began to see stars, unknowingly sending your nails down his broad back from the vast amounts of pleasure surging through your body, unable to keep yourself from whimpering when he suddenly stopped moving completely, his cum beginning to pour inside and coat your pulsing walls with thick globs of white. 
“Oh my god, there it is, baby, all for you,” San groaned huskily into your neck, pressing a few kisses into it and along your jaw, smiling softly at the hearts present within your own barely open, digitally enhanced eyes. He rubbed your thighs in gentle circles, sliding out for a second to let some of the milkiness spill out of your used cunt and pushed back in, just in time for his cock to twitch, filling you up with a few more pumps of hot cum. “Fuck…how was that, baby?” 
“So good, Sannie, you don’t even know…” You could hardly move, filled to the very brim with San’s load, jolts of pleasure still shooting through you, a pleasant fuzziness running along the edges of your brain. “Wish I could feel like this every day.” You bit your bottom lip, wondering if it was the leftover pleasure or the slight buzz that made you want to be honest with San. “Wish I could see you more…” 
San’s expression softened, his already pink cheeks sporting a darker hue, his deep desire to see and know more about the mysterious gang leader that visited him once in a blue moon increasing tenfold. However, he didn’t know exactly how to express the myriad of things he was feeling, so he simply replied, “I wish you could too. I never want you to leave…” 
“San…” you whispered, your heart just about imploding from hearing his softly spoken words, about to suck it up and tell him how you really felt when a sudden loud boom shook the walls of the club, causing a bit of dust and debris to float into the air, the distinct smell of smoke filling up your noses, the sprinklers inside the room immediately going off, along with the smoke detector. 
“What the hell was that?” San gasped, sitting up, but instinctively pulling you into his arms to protect you from any harm, looking around the room for some kind of a clue. 
It was then that a shaky, agitated voice came out through the speaker within the room, warning, “For those who are somehow unaware, someone set off a goddamn bomb inside the club. A fire broke out and now we’re fucked. Do you hear me? Fucked. Get out while you still can, motherfuckers.” The man’s voice grew a bit quieter, some feedback sounds ringing out, someone’s hushed voice not legible through the speakers. “No, I don’t have insurance for this shithole. How was I supposed to know some prick would set off a fucking bomb in here? You know what? You’re fired just for that. Get off my dick–”
When the announcement cut off, the both of you stared at each other for a while, slowly getting soaked by the spraying sprinklers. You saw the deep concern in San’s eyes and the sudden loss that he was trying to come to terms with. “San…” 
“I don’t know what I’m going to do…This place is all I know…It was all I was programmed to know…” San murmured, not even caring that the water brought his flap bangs completely into his sad eyes. 
You gently brushed his hair out of the way and cupped his cheeks, holding them tightly. Before you could have the chance to doubt yourself, you blurted out, “Come home with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you never have to worry about a thing.” 
San’s eyes widened. He wasn’t very used to anyone giving him anything in return. He was the giver. He was always the giver. “You’d do that for me…?” 
“Of course, San, I–” You caught yourself. It was too early for that, after all. Instead, you moved his hair out of the way and brought your lips to his forehead, giving it a kiss before looking back into his eyes. “I care about you. I want you to be safe…with me.”
San reached up to cradle your face within his calloused hands, feeling a warmth spread throughout his entire body, making him wonder if he was more human than robot. He smiled brightly, his eyes creasing at the corners. “Then, what are you waiting for, Y/N? Take me home.”
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510 notes · View notes
rvfecamerons · 7 months
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》 TOXIC pt. II -- rafe cameron x reader
{ series masterlist }
word count — 3k+
warnings — MDNI; toxic!babydaddy!rafe, mean!rafe, dom!rafe, domestic violence, degradation, humiliation, manipulation, jealousy, choking, cussing, reader's daughter sees/hears them arguing for 2 seconds, kinda more ooc rafe but still toxic af, lmk if i’m missing anything else??
a/n — struggled so hard to come up w/ a concept for part 2 so FEEDBACK would be so appreciated <3 pls send requests my brain is so small i can barely come up with ideas!! also thanks sm for 200 followers and 1k notes on part 1 ily all also this was barely proofread :))
summary — rafe is your high school boyfriend turned toxic baby daddy. when you come home from a date, you’re shocked to find rafe in your house, and he’s not happy.
“Thank you for a great night,” you started as you stood from the car with a helpful hand from your date.
Trevor hadn’t let your absence the week before deter him from persuing you, much to your surprise.
You smiled up at him as he held the passenger door open for you, only closing it when he was sure you were out of the way.
“Of course,” he started, one hand still lingering on your own, “Let me walk you upstairs-“
“No,” your protest came a little too quickly. You let out a nervous laugh as you let the jacket draped across your shoulder fall into your free hand, offering it back to the man before you.
“That’s okay,” you started, adjusting to the chill in the air, no doubt stemming from the nearby ocean. You were left in just a form fitting red halter dress, one that perfectly projected your cleveage, and stretched about halfway down your thighs towards your knees.
“This place is like a maze anyway. You don’t wanna get lost, do you?”
“After I just found you? Not a chance,” Trevor pondered jokingly, both of you sharing a quick laugh.
He grabbed you by your waist with gentle hands, softly pulling you into him without letting your bodies touch fully.
A man who actually picked up on and respected your boundaries… who would’ve thought?
According to Rafe, those guys didn’t even exist. Not for you, anyway. He was the best you’d find on the island. He was the only man who could provide for you. And he was the only man who was ‘allowed to provide for his daughter’.
It was just after 9 o’clock, and you knew you had to be up early for Y/D/N’s first ever gymnastics practice in the morning.
It was the first sport you’d done as a child, and now the first one that the smaller reflection of you was going to try. You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your face at the thought.
“Thank you again, Trevor. For tonight, and for giving me another chance…” You hoped he could tell your apology was genuine. 
He almost couldn’t bare to let you finish the sentence.
“Hey, hey, you don’t have to apologize. I’m just glad I got to see you tonight.”
You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d eventually make it far enough to tell him why your first date got pushed back a week at the literal last minute. You thought about how you’d love to be open with him one day and confirm the suspicions a lot of the town already had about Rafe.
One day, maybe. But tonight, you settled for a squeeze of his hand in place of a goodbye kiss and further exchange of words. He held your hand until he couldn’t anymore, releasing your fingers as you made it to the first step of your building.
You waved goodbye and offered him a quick, “goodnight,” before holding your phone to the small black box and scanning your way inside the condominum.
The night replayed in your head as scanned your phone again and allowed the lift to take you up to the top floor. From Trevor picking you up, to the fancy dinner you’d shared, one Rafe would’ve sworn only he could afford for you, all the way to him offering to walk you up to your condo.
And now, you’re thanking your lucky stars that you’d turned down Trevor’s gesture.
…Because you almost jumped out of your skin when you entered your apartment. As you locked the front door and turned around, you were shocked to discover an unexpected figure on your loveseat. 
“Ah!” You gasped and jumped back, pressing yourself into the wall before letting out a frustrated sigh.
“Oh my fucking God, Rafe!” You clutched your chest with one hand, the other planted on the small table by the door, trying to steady your now heavy breathing.
“What are you doing-“
“Where were you?”
It took a few moments to regain enough composure to confront the situation.
When your eyes finally focused on the man in your living room, you realized he was now hunched over your coffee table.
A quick sniffling sound met your ears before your eyes fell upon the white powder scattered across the glass.
Your Louis Vuitton purse hit the floor just as Rafe’s credit card clattered on the table.
“Are you fucking crazy? You have that shit in here with our daughter?!” The instant realization had you marching past the couch, towards the sound of your daughter’s TV in her playroom.
You were appalled at the thought of Rafe getting high in your house.
Let alone, on a table low enough for your daughter to access while only a wallseparated her from her father and his shitty habit.
“She’s with Rose,” he corrected, “Calm the fuck down.”
You didn’t miss how he referred to Y/D/N as ‘his’ daughter. You never did. You always used the term ‘our’ when describing the young girl, but Rafe didn’t, because Rafe Cameron owns everything. Anything of value to him, has to belong to him, and him only.
Rafe brings the back of his hand to his nose, wiping away the excess powdery substance. 
He began stalking away from the loveseat, around the couch that acted as a wall between the living room and hallway, and straight towards you.
He didn’t move fast, but he didn’t have to; he intimidated you nonetheless.
“Where were you?” An accusing finger is shoved in your direction, but you ignored his intrusive question.
“You didn’t even tell me you were taking her to your par-“
“Y/N,” He warned, his newfound tone and level of voice taking you by surprise.
You were also nervous for the coke you’d just seen him snort, and for the coke you were sure you didn’t see him use, before you’d returned home. 
Home.
Was this really a home?
The waterfront condo was beautiful. Any girl’s dream, really. High ceilings, long hallways, two levels, a balcony overlooking the beach, king size bedroom and bathroom, fully furnished and modernized. Its beauty was enhanced by the fact that the home, in its entirety, was completely free to you.
…But at what cost? You’d only recently realized you yearned for a different type of free. The desire brought to fruition by the way Rafe reacted to the mere possibility of you moving on from him physically or emotionally. Though you were sure the physical part was his real issue.
You knew Rafe was posessive. Jealous, an addict, vindictive, cruel, controlling, degrading, rude, insensitive, insane, toxic…
The ease you had coming up with negative labels that fit the kook, was a big reason why you’d chosen to leave the relationship. At least formally, anyway.
Because the strings Rafe Cameron had webbed around you during your time as a couple, never weathered or tore afterwards. They were very much still there, he made sure of it. The teathers had just become harder to see as you began pursuing a new version yourself and your wellbeing, minus Rafe.
Your daughter was the clearest one to see, though. You hated to think her beautiful, tiny life could’ve possibly been a result of Rafe’s own spite or cruelness, because she was anything but.
Y/D/N had changed everything about you, for the better. She’d given you a new purpose, a new lease on life.
You were a mom. Not someone’s girlfriend. Not someone’s property.
And Rafe’s addiction was something you’d always tried to hide from your daughter, along with all of the other baggage her dad carried.
The father of your little girl was already cruel by nature, but cocaine only intensified it.
“Do not make me ask you again. Where were you?”
“I want you to leave,” you raised a shaky hand, index finger extended towards the front door, “Right now.”
A sarcastic laugh was not the response you wanted to hear, though to say it surprised you would be a lie. “You’re not kicking me out of a place that I fucking pay for,” his hands were balled into fists at his sides, you didn’t miss the way he clenched and unclenched them.
“I wanna know where the fuck you just came from,” he took an intimidating step your way, chests brushing as he looked down his nose at you, “And I wanna know right fucking now.”
You’d almost manifested Rafe’s next move, already able to feel and picture the tall man’s grip on your arm before he actually grabbed you, his hold so tight you immediately cried out in pain.
You used your unbound arm to shove at Rafe’s chest, tears springing from your eyes.
“You need to leave Rafe! I-I don’t want you here!” How had your night gone from amazing to completely ruined?
Two words. Three, actually: Rafe. Fucking. Cameron.
Your attack was stopped when Rafe seized your other wrist, quick to squeeze and twist it in an unnatural way.
He forced you back into the wall behind you and inhaled swiftly through his nose, instead this time, it wasn’t cocaine blaring through his nostrils.
It was the cologne that lingered from Trevor’s jacket he’d spared you when the restaurant proved to be a bit too chilly for your attire.
“I can fucking smell him on you!”
With that, you barely had time to register what was happening before you were ripped away from the wall by the collar of your dress, only to be shoved harshly back into it a moment later.
Your hand shot to the back of your head, pressing into the spot where you felt the pang from the impact.
You definitely didn’t expect the sudden stinging in your cheek as your head whipped to the side, courteous of Rafe’s large, open palm.
The jolt was enough to have your knees threatening to buckle beneath you to the floor, where your tears were currently shattering.
Rafe didn’t let you though. He held you up by your arms, even as you continued cowering down, shrinking back into the wall to avoid the rage of the man in front of you.
He grabbed you by your jaw next, grip tight as he yanked your head back up, forcing you to face him. Your eyes no doubt pleaded up at his through the hair that now messily covered your face.
“Did you fuck him?” He seethed, gritting his teeth as he held you against the wall, a single knee digging into one of your thighs.
“No! Let me go-“
“You let him fuck you? Hmm?”
“No!” You cried, now thrashing around in an effort to break free of the iron grip he was subjecting you to. You didn’t understand how it felt both impossible for the man to grip you any tighter, and also like his hold was still tightening by the second, all at once.
“Rafe-“
“Shut the fuck up! I guess you just forgot your fucking place,”
When your eyes met his again, your fear grew. His blue irises were dark. Empty. Scary.
“That’s okay though,” he said, almost too low for you to register, “I’ll fucking remind you.”
His knee stayed on your thigh while one arm moved to cross over your chest, holding you to the wall while his free hand began fumbling with his belt buckle.
“No!” You pleaded, desperate to avoid the same humiliation you’d been forced to endure a week prior.
Through your cries and his screams, you’d both missed the sound of a phone vibrating from the couch as you continued to fend off your ex-boyfriend.
“Stop fucking moving, Y/N,” he warned, but you couldn’t will yourself to give in so easily this time. Not after the night you’d just had, a week delayed due to his doings.
You continued your fight, so much so that you were able to free a hand long enough to deliver to Rafe what he never seemed to have a problem giving to you - a slap across the face.
It was harder than you’d expected it to be, and it shocked the both of you equally. You struggled to recall a time you’d ever done such a thing to him before.
Your eyes were wide as the realization of your action set in. Rafe’s were wide too when he turned his head back to you, and they showed nothing but betrayal, almost hurt, even.
He stared down at you for a few moments before both of his hands met your throat.
You clawed at his wrists with your nails as he choked you. You wondered if he knew how harsh his grip was, how much oxygen he was robbing you of as his hands crushed your airways. His thumbs curved into the ridge between your jaw and your neck, the sensation almost feeling like a pressure point under your ears.
“Fucking whore,” he spat as he shook your frame aggressively, “what did I fucking tell you?”
You scratched and hit at him as he continued hurling insults at you, even tried kicking him multiple times, all to no avail.
As pathetic as it was, you still couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief almost as you thought about the other fate you were being spared of, now that Rafe had taken an interest in choking you instead of forcing you to your knees.
A sudden, swift knocking at the door acted as more of a deterrent for Rafe’s behavior than any physical pain you had tried to inflict.
Both of your heads veered towards the sound, Rafe’s face falling pale and his hold letting up just enough for you to wriggle free and make a dash for it.
“No, no, Y/N, wait!-“ he didn’t even have a chance to stop you. And you didn’t care who was on the other side of the door at this point, you were desperate for someone to intervene.
Your hands were stationed at your throat while you ran, as if your touch would sooth the burning that consumed it.
You threw the door open through tears, ready to throw yourself into the arms of whoever waited on the other side. You immediately regretted the decision as your eyes met a smaller, brighter pair in the arms of Rafe’s step-mother.
You gasped, both in shock and as a way of collecting your composure once again. You’d wondered if you’d find Trevor or even the police on the other side of the door, but your daughter had never even crossed your mind.
“Hey, I’m sorry, I- oh my god! Y/N, are you okay?” The blonde’s eyes jumped from you, to her step-son, then back to you, this time with an obvious grimace plastered on her face.
“Rafe, what the hell is going on here?” She snapped, lowering her voice as she let the swear word fly right past the ears of your daughter in her arms.
You quickly wiped your tears with the palms of your hands, forcing yourself to offer your daughter a smile even as your body was still stinging and aching from the brief altercation with Rafe.
You extended your arms out at the same time Y/D/N did, and you’d never felt more relieved to have her in your embrace than you did at that moment.
You hugged your little girl tightly, only letting a couple of tears fall when you were sure her gaze was buried in your neck. It was almost like the toddler soothed any pain you were feeling in that moment, because she was all that mattered.
You’d tuned out Rafe’s bickering with Rose as you embraced Y/D/N, your ears only tuning back in when you heard him saying your name.
You turned around, now facing the same way your daughter had been as you rocked her, your eyes falling on Rafe’s.
He wore an expression that was hard to read as he watched you clutching your daughter like a lifeline.
He slowly strode over to you, stopping mere inches away only when Rose spoke again.
“Rafe, do I need to call your father? You need to come with me, right now!” She’d interrupted whatever it looked like Rafe had wanted to say to you.
“Shut the fuck up, Rose.” Rafe had always despised his step-mom, and you knew he had animosity built up towards you, too. You were sure the only thing stopping him from disregarding Rose’s words and lunging for you again was the tiny girl in your arms.
“I’ll be back this weekend.” He spoke curtly in your direction, almost as a way of warning you.
He stepped closer and you couldn’t help but flinch, even as the hand Rafe laid on his daughter’s back was gentle and kind. Much kinder than any touch you’d been on the recieving end of the past few years.
He placed a kiss on the top of her head before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “We’ll finish this conversation next time.” You shuddered, immediately stepping further into the house as you shot him a tearful glare.
The tall man sent a condescending smile your way, though his face immediately fell when his eyes met those of his step-mother’s again.
He made his way over to the living room, taking his sweet time gathering his things before heading back towards the door, violently shoving past Rose on his way out.
You nodded towards the blonde, silently letting her know that she didn’t need to worry about you and your daughter. She offered you a remorseful glance before leaving Y/D/N’s bag by the door and shutting it quietly.
You made your way over to the staircase, the tears flowing steadily now as you allowed yourself to sink down onto the first landing with your daughter in your arms, and you didn’t want to let go.
You never wanted to let go.
She was your reason for anything you did. She was the drive behind any decision or move you made.
And she would be your motivation to get away from Rafe, once and for all.
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1K notes · View notes
gamermattsgf · 2 months
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Cherry popper // nerd Matt p.2
Warnings: heavy smut / mommy!kink (duh) / doggy style / glasses kink / praise kink / sub!matt x dom reader / back shot / degradation kink… kinda / masturbation / hair pulling
Summary: you and Matt are trying to do one of your homework assignments, until Matt finds himself painfully distracted by thoughts of your body instead of thoughts of the equations on the sheets of paper in front of him.
Author’s notes: GUYS!! I am actually so insanely grateful for all of the love you have given me from the moment I started publishing on here. The fact that so many people have wanted a part 2 for this is unbelievable to me fr. Also the fact that the original has almost 1,000 notes is actually fucking insane wtf?? I always wake up everyday and smile at all of the lovely comments/requests people send to me and I couldn’t be happier that people enjoy my stuff, it just makes me motivated to write more hehe. But anyways, after a long and PAINFUL wait, finally, here is your part 2 of Cherry popper Matt <3
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“You’ve got me nervous to speak… so I just won’t say anything at all” - Nervous, The Neighbourhood
‘Okay so what about the vector analysis in this problem? How do I solve it?’
You get no response in return.
‘Matt?’
You turn your head to look over at him from your position sat on the floor, a pencil twiddling in between your thumb and fore finger. The notepad open in front of you details Matt’s pen marks from where he had written out the equations of your assignment for you to solve before your tutor lesson this afternoon.
It has been a good deal of weeks since your first session, and each time Matt has come to your house you have taught him something new.
Fingering. Head. Mutual masturbation.
Last week you took his virginity. It was simple. Missionary. But ever since then something has changed within Matt. He’s gotten needier, more eager for you. A text message every hour or so, asking about your lessons. You never tell him what you’re planning though, you like to keep it a surprise for him.
Evidently though, the thought of what you do at the end of each one seems to distract him. It keeps him on the edge of his seat and fiddling about until he’s instructed to get on the bed. Which he does now with a fast pace and happy smiles on his lips each time. You really like Matt.
‘Matt? Are you even listening to me?’
He hums questioningly. ‘Oh uh yeah… sorry wha-what did you say?’. His eyes blink in confusion, as if every word of your voice had gone in one ear and out through the other.
You purse your lips, smiling cheekily at him and shaking your head. Matt catches on as soon as you give him a look that you know why he’s distracted, so his cheeks go pink and he shyly flits his eyes to the floor. You raise your eyebrows and he does a double take.
‘I’m sorry… I can’t help it…’ he peeps, before lifting one of his hands to shift them underneath his glasses. He rubs his eyes, as if embarrassed with himself, before dropping his hand back down and bravely glancing up at you. ‘Poor baby… Thinking about my body instead of my assignment. Matt you naughty boy…’ You tease, and Matt whines pitifully.
‘Don’t say that!’ He shakes his head, trying to act as if he feels physically repulsed by you calling him a naughty boy. But you know he loves it. Just last week he was thrusting his cock into you slickly, whining from above you to praise him and call him a good boy as he did so, his mouth hung open with pants and his hands greedily gripping your headboard to help his hips move. Just as you had instructed him to do.
‘Who’s going to help me finish it now?’ You feign sadness. Matt humphs. ‘I am… I’m sorry. Please I won’t get distracted again, please mommy I’ll help you!’ He begs worthlessly, sitting up from his position sprawled out on his side on your carpet. He leans himself up onto his hands and knees, now used to just calling you mommy like second nature. You didn’t even have to ask him.
‘But baby… you’re already hard. How could you possibly help me in that sort of state?’. Matt’s face falls into a frown and he squirms about uncomfortably, the obvious bulge in his jeans now the topic of conversation. ‘I- I can do it!’ He argues back, his voice wobbling but trying to be defiant.
‘No you can’t Matt.’ You patronise him in response, knowing that there is no way he’s going to be able to sit through any more of this tutor session without feeling uncomfortable and groaning lowly after every time the harsh seam of his jean’s zipper rubs against his sensitive cock. You know how prone to pleasure he is.
‘If we get rid of your problem will you promise to concentrate and help me afterwards puppy?’.
Sighing and getting up, your eyes keep trained on Matt whilst his head snaps up to now fully bask in your attention, the slightest mention of you touching his cock and him getting fed with more sexual pleasure rilling him up. You walk over slowly, before you stop right in front of him.
He finds it strange really, that now he gets more excited about your touch than teasing out a good math equation. He perks up with a curling smile on his face, his eyes dreamy and sparkling. Nodding his head as quickly as he can he bumbles an awkward ‘yes- yes of course… please’.
You smirk and tip your chin down at the way Matt lies on his knees before you. Reaching up one of your hands, you push it into his hair, combing it back and folding it into the rest of his crashing brown waves. He moans happily in content at the feeling of your nails scratching against his scalp, tipping his chin up and looking at you like a baby doe who’s just learnt to walk.
‘Well, you know what I’m gonna say then…’ you laugh through your smile at his inexperienced, soft nature. ‘Yes mommy…’ he obediently nods and coos up to you in a mumbled voice, before leaning up so that he can stand to his full height. He waddles with his padding feet over to your bed, a place where he’s now left a permanent imprint every Sunday, when only the two of you are in the house and left to your own devices.
‘Hmm… think it may be a little too early to use any of my…’. You struggle to find the words for all of the miscellaneous items hidden within your wardrobe. ‘…toys’. Matt sits on the bed and waits patiently for his next command whilst listening in to your debate between yourself. ‘And I’m not in the mood to do all of the work today… so seeing as you’re the one who interrupted our tutor session because you just couldn’t wait, then I suppose it should be you doing the work’.
Matt winces at your scolding nature, before shuffling up the mattress a little further. He smiles guiltily and nods. ‘I guess that’s only fair’. You hum, looking at Matt’s fluffed hair and the glasses that slide sweetly off of his nose. Every time he has to push them back up to the bridge of it in class you have to squeeze your thighs together, because you know how much of a little slut he really is. The glasses are just a front in your opinion, it doesn’t matter how innocent they make him look, he’s still always pussy drunk for you at the end of the day and it fills you with such power.
‘Why don’t we step it up from missionary a little then?’ You finally decide, crawling onto the bed yourself and slithering over to a Matt that gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing and practically asking you to make a meal out of his exposed neck. He already has the sheets gripped within his fists, how adorable.
‘Step it up?’ He asks confusedly, his eyebrows furrowing. But you ignore him, and instead swing your legs so that you can straddle his lap, his stiff cock already pressing thickly up into your clothed core. You clutch his jaw and tilt his neck upwards, his breathing thick and laboured with anticipation.
‘Kisses for mommy?’ You mumble and tilt your head with a questioning sensuality that almost has Matt drooling within a trance. He nods, his eyes looking a little spaced out but your lips soon coming to mesh together. It reminds you of the first time you both made out, and similarly, you slowly begin to rock your hips. He pants at the friction, and knuckles tentatively at the bottom of your t-shirt.
‘I like mommy kisses…’ he mumbles delicately in between the brush of your lips, his tongue feathering out to lick into your mouth as you continuously comb back his hair, gripping and pulling on it playfully. You break away from him to rub your thumb against his cheek. He looks up at you and blinks, his mouth dropped and his lips juicy like swollen cherries after being sucked on.
‘More please’ he whimpers, and lurches forward to reconnect your lips. At this point, you decide to lean forward, making Matt’s back fall onto the mattress.
Lying all of your weight on top of him, he sneaks his hands down to squeeze around your hipbones, his fingers nervously travelling to your ass next so that he can keep you grinding above him as you kiss. But you open your eyes through the kiss when feeling the sensation of his digits.
‘Did I say you could touch that puppy?’ You chide him, and Matt’s hands freeze their descent. He snaps his eyes open and pulls himself away with a pout, your breaths mingling and your noses almost brushing.
He looks as if he’s about to cry at getting into trouble, and swallows thickly before feeding his bottom lip into his bitten teeth. He tries to embarrassedly suppress a moan, thinking that it’s not the right time to release one at the rub of your cunt against him. You smirk when his back arches in helplessness, his cheeks red as he stutters ‘sorry… I didn’t mean to… I couldn’t help it’.
Shaking your head in amusement, you listen to the way his breath hitches when you slip your hands up his shirt, tickling your cold fingertips up his stomach so that you can circulate his sensitive nipples.
‘That’s okay baby boy, I know you’re frustrated. Shall we get these clothes off?’ Matt nods frantically, tipping his head back and squeezing his eyes closed whilst he focusses on his breathing.
Both of your clothes come off at lighting pace, Matt practically ripping to get to the supple skin of your body. After he does, his hands are babyishly squeezing anywhere, himself now comfortable enough in his sexual ability to be brave. Both of you lie sprawled out majestically on your bed, groping at each other like feverish teenagers in heat whilst the exchange of tongues between the two of you is messy and sloppy.
Matt cannot get enough of kissing you, he throbs at the feeling of your tongue twisting with his, his naked lower half now grinding subconsciously into your bedcovers. You slap his arm at this though and he hissed slightly, pulling away and looking at you offensively.
‘Puppy don’t do that, you’ll make a mess of my sheets with how much you’re leaking’. He looks down shamefully, whining because he knows he can’t help it. ‘M’sorry! I just really need you- I-‘ he starts to apologise but you shush him quietly by pressing your pointer finger into his lips. ‘I know you do baby boy… I want you to do some revision first though’.
He blinks and nods hesitantly, yourself shuffling up to the end of the bed so that you can spread your legs in front of him, still only in your underwear. After teasing him out of all of his clothes and leaving him feeling vulnerable and bare, you had decided to keep your panties on. It drives him insane when you do that, to know that he is in more of a submissive position than you.
‘How wet do you think you can get me baby?’ You drawl, and watch as Matt’s shoulders heave after crawling up to you with his cock red and stiff. ‘Dripping?’ You add on, and Matt nods his head confidently.
He reaches out his knuckles to graze them gently against your clothed heat and you hiss at the faintest of his caresses. ‘I’d do anything to get you off…’ he breathes, before pressing his thumb into your clit, rubbing it like how you showed him. Your breath hitches as you feel your centre pool hungrily, you folds dampening and getting hotter the more pressure he adds.
Your back arches. How could someone look so innocent and naive whilst performing something so unholy?
‘Can I- can I see your tits please mommy?’ Matt shyly asks whilst playing with your clit over your clothed sensitivity. You nod. ‘Of course you can sweet boy. Well done for asking so nicely baby’. Matt smiles in achievement at this, loving the praise freely gifted to him for the most simplest of tasks.
He struggles to not moan at the sight of you unclipping your lacy set to let your tits rest on your chest freely, your nipples hardened and mouthwatering. You watch the way his eyes hypnotically flick from one to the other and you smirk. ‘Like that baby? You wanna make me feel good now? Make mommy happy?’.
He lurches forward to kiss you once again, dipping his tongue leisurely into your mouth to taste you as he pleasures your clit with the pad of his finger. This makes your legs spread even further.
‘Please- I’m ready to make you feel full now’ he eagerly states through a bite of your lips, and you hum in satisfaction. ‘It’s time for your next lesson then’. You press your hands onto Matt’s pecs and push his mouth away from yours so that you can fully look him in the eyes. ‘Ever thought about doggy style before?’.
Matt furrows his eyes in confusion. ‘Well um… no, not really’.
‘Well that’s what we’re doing today, let’s get you on top of me, real nice and easy’.
You push him backwards and he falls onto his behind. You then swing forwards and spit directly onto his cock. He lets out a strangled pant at this and watches as you wrap your hand around the very base of his throbbing prick. ‘F-fuck’ his voice rags out and he closes his eyes with his head rolling back.
‘I’m going to get on my hands and knees, and then you’re going to come up behind me alright?’ You start to instruct him whilst pumping him slowly. He finds it difficult to focus at times because your hand feels so good, but he gets the rough picture of what you want him to do in his head.
‘O-okay’ he whimpers. You stop touching him and then crawl onto your hands and knees in front of him. ‘Go and take off my panties then puppy’ you tease him, making fun of the way he’s so hesitant to do anything. You then feel Matt’s fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he timidly slides them from off of the curves of your asscheeks. They fall to the mattress around your knees and you clench when you feel the weight of Matt behind you.
The bedsheets crinkle underneath his knees and his warm stomach soon presses against your back. You feel his chest up your spine as he lies over you whilst his bigger hands come to splay down at the outer edges of yours. You look at his popping veins and tendons hungrily before taking in a shaky breath. It’s nice to ache at the feeling of his dominant position, because his heavy masculine difference makes you so fucking horny.
‘Good boy.’
You feel Matt’s stomach clench in approval at the nickname. ‘What now?’ He questions innocently, and you have to smirk once again at just how adorably clueless he is. ‘Now, you fuck me.’ You bluntly muse. Matt falters for a second. ‘Oh right-’ he laughs nervously.
‘Go on baby boy, give me your cock’ you encourage him. At this sudden permission, Matt thrusts his hips forward. You feel him shuffle around before his throbbing tip is pressed into your slickness. He moans throatily after pushing up into you, stretching you out and stuffing your walls full of him. Your breaths are equally as laboured when you feel him throbbing into you, his shaky torso wobbling and trying to keep himself steady above you.
‘That’s it baby’ you coo.
He starts to fuck his hips into you at a slowed and lazy pace. You feel his hot breaths on the shell of your ear as he pants, the bed squeaking below you two erotically at the motion of your bodies.
‘A-am I doing a good job mommy?’ He peeps, wanting to eke out as much praise from you as he possibly can. ‘Yes. Very very good Matt, well done’ you respond back, almost choking on your breath from how good it feels. You feel him right in your gut, just the perfect sort of length to drive you fucking insane.
He whines petulantly.
‘Please! Please call me a good boy, please, m’desperate’. Your legs spread further to let him in more whilst his hips slap against your ass roughly. Your stomach clenches as you groan slightly when his prick presses into exactly the right spot. With your elbows buckling, your head falls into the mattress, Matt keeping a hold of you by possessively grappling onto your waist with his calloused hands.
‘You are a good boy Matt… treating me so well, treating me like a fucking princess’. He smiles happily through his aggressive whimpers, speeding up his hips. ‘Touch my clit baby… I want my orgasm’ you then demand, stabilising yourself onto just one of your elbows so that your other hand can reach back to grab his and pull it forward.
You slip his fingers in between your dripping folds and begin to help him circulate your clit before you deem him competent enough to do it himself.
‘Ugh my glasses…’ Matt moans ‘they’re- they’re gonna fall off’. His glasses slip down his nose and then off the hooks of his ears. His rosy cheeks blush when they patter to the mattress right in front of both of your hands. He feels embarrassed that he’d railed you into the bed so hard that his glasses had fallen off, but you only grinned at this.
Snatching up the glasses yourself, you do exactly the thing that you know will drive Matt crazy. You slip them onto your own nose and push them up to the bridge.
At this, Matt throbs and your walls suck around him. Your orgasm comes so fast after this that you barely have any time to think about announcing it.
You press your face into the mattress and moan as Matt helps you ride your waves of pleasure out, your thighs quivering and your mouth hung wide open. ‘Can I cum inside of you please mommy?! Y’feel- you feel so fucking good’.
But you don’t let him. Instead, you shake your head and move forwards, falling out of him and flopping directly onto your stomach. ‘Be my good boy and finish on my back instead’. Matt whines but obeys, knowing that if he doesn’t he’ll be punished. He wraps his fist around his wet thickness and begins to stroke himself quickly. His hot skin slips over his hand easily and he whimpers and pants when his cum creams out of his tip. It leaks and splatters all over your back and you smile in exhaustion after he finishes completely, his own exhausted breaths wracking his own body.
Flopping onto the bed next to you, he calms, his spent length satisfied and both of your orgasms soothing over your sexual frustration.
His baby blue eyes softly scan over your face, and he doesn’t even try to hide his smile in adoration at the way you look with his squint glasses resting on your face. You look so gentle and so kind, and he almost wants you to keep the glasses for yourself just so that he can see you with them on every day. If only he didn’t need them for reading.
‘So… time for homework?’ You mumble.
Matt giggles with a toothy grin.
‘Time for homework’.
Author’s notes p.2: @lovingmattysposts … you don’t have to hold your breath anymore gf, I gotchu. I definitely felt the pressure with writing this one that’s for sure, bc so many people have wanted a part 2, so hopefully I’ve done nerd Matt justice. Also I am SO sorry if I accidentally missed out anyone who wanted to be on the tag list, there were quite a few names and I don’t have the best of memories lol. Thank you so much for giving me and my writing the time of day. It literally means the whole world to me :) P.S. Aww? Such a cutie pie little moment at the end wtf??
Taglist: @lovingmattysposts @strniohoeee @asturniolos @thesturniolos @nickdevora @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @chr1sgirl4life @kvtie444 @ellie-luvsfics @reidsween @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniolololover @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo
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garrison-girl-08 · 2 months
Text
Love, Honour, Disobey
Pairing- Thomas Shelby and Reader
Part 3- (More Here)
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You spent the day hiding in your room. Polly was right, you couldn’t have the children seeing you like this. How would you explain it? All afternoon, you had heard your youngest Sadie asking for her Mama. She had only just turned one, and was very attached to you.
Isabella was a Daddy’s girl, well she usually was. Apart from last night, when he had scared her. And your eldest Thomas, he was a free spirit. Quite happy, playing outside, climbing trees. Helping with the horses. No matter how cold it was.
You would have to leave the room at some point…but what could you say to them?
“Wake up!” Tommy heard the stern voice of his Aunt. As she kicked his leg, “Now!” When he groaned, she grabbed hold of his collar, pulling him into an upright position. Picking up the glass of water on his desk, she threw it over him.
Gasping for air, Tommy sat up, hands shaking. "What the fuck, Pol?" he snapped, finally opening his eyes. Only his Aunt, would have the balls to do that to him. Grabbing his collar again, she used all of her strength to throw him onto the floor.
“I have never …. Ever…. Been so ashamed of you! Thomas Michael Shelby!” She snarled through gritted teeth.
Frowning, he shook his head trying to understand what was going on. Wiping the water away from his eyes, his vision blurry, head pounding like a drum.
“That girl deserves better than you. If she ups and leaves over this, it’s your fault. And your fault alone!” Turning on her heel, she strutted out of the office. Slamming the front door.
“Mr Shelby?” He heard, seeing Frances hovering nervously. How many times, had the poor maid seen him like this? He had lost count.
“Come,” he answered, pulling himself back into his chair. So confused, how long had he been asleep?
“Miss Sadie is asking for her Mummy. What shall I do Mr Shelby? Only Mrs Grey said… keep her away,” she confessed, not wanting to get involved in your domestic. "To keep the children away,"
“Away?” He repeated, now standing up. Shit... Tommy... get it together. “Just watch the kids, ey. I will go and see Y/n,”
Dragging himself up the large staircase, Tommy had little recollection of the night before. He remembered arguing with you, Mosley! That was it, you had been to see Mosley. Why the fuck had you done that?
Polly was angry with him over something. So, he had obviously pissed you off. She always took your side anyway. It was nothing new.
About to open the door of your shared room, he glanced at his hands. Noticing how much they were shaking. Shit, he needed to ease of the opium. Entering the room, he could see you sitting at your dressing table. Still dressed in your nightclothes, despite the time of day.
Sensing his presence, you stiffened. "Go away, Tommy. I don't want to hear it,"
He noticed the shake in your voice. Dabbing your eyes, you kept your head bowed. Not wanting to look at him. "Please, I can't do this now,"
"Sadie is asking for you," he breathed out, bending down next to you. His body was aching, clothes soaking from where Polly had thrown water onto him.
"What do you want me to do?" you snapped, finally turning to look at him.
Looking at your face, Tommy's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't breathe, what the fuck? Your face was swollen, and badly bruised. Marks on your neck, eyes red from crying.
“Y/n... what's... it.... er..." stumbling back, he landed on his backside. Trying to grip onto something. "What? How?"
Keep the children away, rang through his head.
"Did he do that? Mosley? Ey?" his adrenaline was pumping. How had he allowed this to happen? "I wanted you away from him, I will kill him over this,"
Quickly standing, you held onto the dresser for support. Head spinning. "You did it Tommy!!!" You screamed, "It was you!"
Jumping up, he quickly moved towards you. Trying to reach for you, trying to take your hand. No…. He couldn’t have done that…. Not to his own wife, his beautiful wife. He loved you.
“Get away from me!” You screamed, at the top of your voice, physically shaking. Terrified, scared of your own husband. Scared to be alone with him.
“Y/n…” he paused, holding his hands up. “I … I .. would never… I,” Sinking to the floor, he tried to rack his brains to remember.
What the hell had happened?
"You would never!" you vented back, "You don't know what you are like, Tommy. I let things slide, that shit you take."
Holding back a sob, you looked at him with hatred. "You turn into someone else, how many times have you crawled into bed with me? Woke me up, like you were fucking someone else. You can't even fucking remember,"
Blinking, he frowned up at you, running his hands through his wet hair.
"Y/n... I... I'm sorry, did I.... did I really? Do that?"
Sinking onto the bed, you felt like you could sleep for a week. "You were so angry with me, I was so scared Tommy. I shouldn't be scared of my own husband, I can't have you here. Near me, near the children,"
"The ... the children, Y/n, I would never, I, I didn't," his mind was trying to catch up, to the words that you were saying. Feeling physically sick at his own actions.
"You are an addict Tommy!" you warned him, taking a step closer.
“You terrified Bella last night, are you going to push her over too?" You couldn't stop now you had started, he needed to hear this. "Or if Sadie cries, are you going to grab hold of her? And shake her? Shake her like a rag doll?”
You pointed at your arms, the deep fingerprints now visible to him.
"No..." he whispered, "No.. no... no..." holding his head in his hands, he mumbled.
Talking, but not making any sense. Breaking down in tears, shoulders shaking from his sobs. Rocking back and forward, on his knees.
“No ….no…” he kept whispering, hands moving to his hair as he began to pull.
“I can’t….I can’t breathe…” he choked out, pulling at his collar. “I can’t breathe,”
Watching in horror, your husband falling to his side. Clutching at his chest. Struggling to catch his breath. This man, this strong family man, your husband, the father of your children.
Now reduced to this…
“He… help,” he begged, as you couldn’t move.
Trying to keep your head low, you walked along the corridor of the hospital. Heading back, towards your husband's room. Blinders tipping their hats to you, as they stood on guard. Two days, Tommy had been in here. Thinking he was having a heart attack, you had panicked and called an ambulance.
A panic attack, it had turned out to be.
But, he was ill, you knew that much. He needed help, mentally as well as physically. He need rehab, to stop taking the drugs, stop the drinking. Sort his head out.
His family needed him, you need him.
You couldn't help but feel guilty. It was your visit to Mosely, that had started this. That was no excuse for Tommy's behaviour, you knew that. You just thought you could handle it. Prove something to Tommy, maybe?
That you were not just a wife, and a mother, that you were still your own person.
Flashback
Walking ahead, he gestured for you to follow. "And how shall that happen, Mrs Shelby?" Mr Mosley asked, a smirk on his face. Oh this man was sued to women bowing down to him. No doubt, falling to their knees for him. Not having a choice.
But you did...
You were not going to give yourself, for the sake of business. You were a married woman, you loved your husband. Nothing, and no one was going to come between you. Especially this creep.
"As I have stated Mr Mosely, I am a married woman. I am aware of what you are insinuating. And the answer is no." you warned, edging closer.
Mosely visibly gasped, shocked from being turned down.
"As you wish, Mrs Shelby. Leave the contract with me, I shall have to look it over again. I bid you goodnight," As you handed him the contract, he kissed your hand, before walking away.
Climbing into your waiting car, you let out a long breath of relief. Vowing, never to put yourself in danger again. You had your children to think of.
Note-
Is that how we thought it would go with Mosely?
Should she forgive Tommy?
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