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#fuck man i will never run out of Thoughts and Feelings about these two characters from like 2005
torchickentacos · 11 months
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'that girl never fails to surprise me' sorry your honor but I've been in this hellhole for basically my whole life. how do you expect me to get out of it when I can rewatch episodes with my friends and think about this at 12:25 AM
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ellemj · 4 months
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Off-Limits: Ch. 1
Bucky Barnes x Reader: Mafia AU
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Summary: Bucky Barnes wants the one thing he can't have, and he'll go to great lengths to get what he wants. The tension between the two of you makes it impossible for him to think rationally.
Warnings: profanity, possessive!Bucky, mentions of firearms, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: I've been thinking about writing something like this for a few weeks but I'm typically not an AU kinda girl so stick with me. Bucky is intentionally out of character in this but hopefully a few of you will like him this way. Also, THANK YOU ILY for the little bullets and foliage art for my timeskips @littlemiss-yeehaw. She is an angel, an inspiration, I love her.
            Off-limits. Nothing has ever pissed James Bucky Barnes off more than the phrase off-limits. The fact that it’s you who’s been labeled off-limits only adds to the fiery rage that’s steadily growing inside of him.
            Bucky leans back in his desk chair, running his flesh hand through his hair while he goes over his options in his mind. He could just take you. He could give a few orders and have you in front of him by nightfall, though he isn’t quite sure how he feels about starting a war simply because he’s thinking with his cock rather than his head. He could have a sit-down meeting with the man he detests most in this world, the man who currently has total control over your future. He could make an offer, bargain for the right to have you to himself. No, that sounds too polite.
            The sound of a fist rapping against the heavy wooden door of his office breaks Bucky out of his thoughts.
            “You told me to come back at eight, so here I am. What did you decide?” Sam asks, shutting the door behind him after entering. He’s itching to do something, anything. His life has been hell ever since Bucky first laid eyes on you. It’s as if the entire fucking operation dropped to the bottom of the totem pole while you rose to the top. It would be great if he could bash a few heads in, fire a few rounds, and deliver you to his boss tonight so he could fuck away whatever this newfound obsession is and get back to being the cunning, ruthless mob boss he’s meant to be.
            “We’re paying my least favorite lowlife a visit.”
            Just like that, James Bucky Barnes and his entourage of over-eager gunmen are on their way to your house, to see your father.
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            As you tiptoe down the mahogany stairs of your childhood home, your bare feet just barely gracing each step, you forget for a moment that you’re not a little girl anymore. You can hear the distant sound of low voices and tense discussion coming from your father’s home office near the bottom of the staircase. When you were younger, those sounds would’ve had the hair on the back of your neck standing up and you would’ve been hightailing it right back to your bedroom. You’re not so timid anymore. The man already holds your entire life in the palm of his hand, molding and shaping it however he sees fit. What’s the point in trying to abide by his rules when it’ll never get you anything other than exactly what he wants for you? So, you continue your daring trip to the kitchen, with the hem of your oversized t-shirt skimming along the skin beneath the curve of your ass and your heart set on a late-night snack.
            Bucky sits across from your father’s desk, his jaw aching due to the number of times he’s caught himself clenching his teeth together during the past hour of deliberations. As he lifts his hand to massage the sore muscle along the side of his face, he hears the sound of a wooden floorboard creaking somewhere outside of the room that he currently sits in. He shifts his gaze around the room, noting the way his own men, your father, and your father’s men all seem oblivious to the miniscule noise that came from somewhere in the house.
            “It doesn’t matter how long we sit here and go through this. My daughter is not getting married, she isn’t on the table.” Your father’s tone, though resolved and sure, doesn’t match the look in his eye. It’s a look that lets Bucky know you’re not actually off the table, he just hasn’t made the right offer yet. The words echo in his head for a moment: on the table.
Fuck. If he sits here for another second, picturing you physically on top of a damn table, he might make an unreasonable offer just to turn that fantasy into a reality. It’s what prompts Bucky to rise to his feet suddenly, reaching into the pocket of his black suit pants to retrieve his phone and act as if he’s going to make a call, maybe a call to check on things within his business to see what else he can offer the piece of shit who sits in front of him. In reality, he’s making up an excuse to get the hell out of that stuffy office and clear his mind just enough to close the deal.
“Let me make a call.” Bucky says evenly, shooting your father a steely look. Your father leans back in his desk chair, relaxing for the first time since his rival showed up on your doorstep an hour ago. When Sam and Torres make moves to follow Bucky out of the office, Bucky holds up a hand, signaling for them to stop. “Stay, I won’t be long.”
Leaving his suit jacket draped over the back of the armchair he had been sitting in, Bucky steps out of the office and guides the door to shut as quietly as possible. It’s fucked up, what he’s doing here. He knows that good and well. Offering large sums of money, offering obscene amounts of quality product, offering a damn near eternal truce in the streets…all to have a woman he barely knows. As his eyes adjust to the darkness of his enemy’s home, he casts a glance up the staircase by the office door, wondering if you’re awake up there. Are you sitting in your posh bedroom without a single worry plaguing your pretty little mind? Are you sleeping soundly as he barters with your father for the right to have you all to himself? Or are you thinking about him too, about the handful of times you’ve run into each other over the past two months?
Shaking his head to clear his mind of all thoughts of you, Bucky takes a few steps to his left and turns the corner at the bottom of the stairs, entering the kitchen soundlessly. That’s where he finds you, hidden behind the open refrigerator door as you rummage around for a snack. He sees your bare legs first, peeking out beneath the half-door. He clenches his teeth and tightens his grip on the phone in his right hand simultaneously. It fucking hurts just to look at you.
“Your father lets you walk around like that with guests in the house?” He seethes. Startled, you shove the refrigerator door shut just before dropping the container of blueberries in your hand. As the plastic container goes crashing to the kitchen floor, blueberries scatter around your feet. James. When your eyes land on him, you can see the look of disdain all over his face. He despises you, you’re sure of it. Never one to take shit from a man, you narrow your eyes at him before crouching down and positioning yourself on your knees. Bucky watches intently as you pick up the blueberries one by one, placing them back into the plastic container.
“I don’t think my father considers you a guest.” You whisper the insult just loud enough for him to hear it, but not loud enough for your voice to carry over to your father’s office. Bucky’s squeezing his phone so tightly in his hand that he’s already thinking about having to send someone out to pick up a new one for him tomorrow, because surely, he’s shattering the screen of it. It isn’t your cute little attempt at a comeback that’s irking him. It’s the fact that you’re still on your knees, with your t-shirt riding up your thighs and your eyes lifting to meet his gaze as if you have no idea what effect you’re having on him. He’s sure you aren’t that naïve, which means you’re doing this shit on purpose.
“Get up.” He says through his teeth. You narrow your eyes at him before cocking your head to the side and picking up another fallen berry. It’s a test. He wants to see if you’ll listen to him. The way Bucky sees it, if you listen to his command and stand up, he’ll feel a bit better about going to all of this trouble to have you. It would tell him that although you’re defiant and like to talk back, you still know how to do what you’re told. But if you don’t listen? He can think of a few enjoyable ways to break you of that bad habit.
“What would my father do if he knew you were in here telling me what to do?” The question leaves your lips with the intention of being threatening, but Bucky’s hard stare and cold expression melds into a look of mild amusement. You pick up one of the last few remaining blueberries and drop it into the plastic container, keeping your gaze steady on the cold-blooded man a few feet in front of you. You watch with masked curiosity as he tucks his phone into the pocket of his suit pants and begins rolling up the sleeves of his white button-up shirt. He notices the way your eyes fixate on his black and gold arm, the way you almost seem fascinated by it. When he uses his metal hand to roll up the sleeve on his right arm, your focus shifts to the tattoos covering the majority of his flesh forearm. It isn’t your eyes that tell Bucky you like what you see. It’s the way you subtly clench your thighs together as you drop another berry into the container. You don’t shy away, you don’t move even an inch as he begins walking toward you. Even when he comes to a stop in front of you, close enough that the toes of his dress shoes are nearly touching your knees, you stay where you are. You look up at him through your lashes without tilting your head upward, refusing to move any more than just your eyes for a man that you know would take a mile if you gave him an inch.
“What would your father do if he knew you were on your knees in front of me?” He lifts his flesh hand toward your face, expecting you to flinch away or refuse his touch, but you don’t even blink as he lets his fingertips trace the curve of your jaw. He drags his fingers downward, until he’s in the right spot to curl them beneath your chin and force you to tilt your head up for him. Again, you don’t resist him. “Get out of here before someone else sees you like this.”
It isn’t at all what Bucky wanted to say to you, not even close. But it was what needed to be said. If anyone else had walked out of your father’s office and stolen the privilege of seeing you looking so pretty on your knees like that, he would’ve shot them dead right there in the kitchen. Whether it was one of your father’s men or his own, he wouldn’t have given a shit. So, Bucky lets his hand fall away from your chin, but he doesn’t step away. You reach down for the container of blueberries and grasp it in your right hand as you move to stand, keeping your eyes locked on Bucky’s the entire time. You want to shove him, to tell him he has no right to tell you what to do, especially not in your father’s home. At the same time, you wouldn’t be opposed to tracing the tattoos on his flesh forearm with your lips. What is it about this man that makes your rational mind war with the rest of your body?
            When you step around Bucky a second later, setting the container of blueberries on the island in the center of the kitchen before heading toward the stairs, he has to fight the urge to reach out and grab you. Not now, not yet. You’re not his yet. When you round the corner of the kitchen and begin tiptoeing up to your room, Bucky makes his way to the bottom of the stairs and watches you silently as you take each step. You don’t look back as you make it to the landing and turn right, disappearing behind a wall. When he hears the faint sound of your bedroom door closing, he reaches into the back pocket of his suit pants and retrieves a small silver cylinder. It sits heavy in his hand as he pulls his gun from the back waistband of his pants. As Bucky screws the silencer onto the barrel of his gun, a distant voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to be rational about this. Don’t do it. Don’t go to such insane lengths for a woman you don’t even know. Don’t spill blood on these nice mahogany floors.
            When he enters the office a few seconds later, he fires two shots. The first into the shoulder of your father’s righthand man, and the second into the thigh of the other hired gun. His face is emotionless as he steps over their bloody, writhing bodies and presses the cool metal of the silencer against your father’s temple. Bucky only has to speak one sentence to let the man know that he isn’t to be fucked with.
            “We make a deal tonight, or I make your daughter an orphan.”
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nouearth · 11 months
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lessons in kissing.
dick grayson x male reader x peter parker.
summary: dick and peter become your professors in kissing 101 (& more).
wc: 6.2k. genre: smut. warnings: top!peter, top!dick, bottom!reader, handjobs, blowjobs, kissing, cum-swapping, mouth-fucking, threesome, unprotected rough!sex, reader's first time, characters are aged up!
notes: yeah, so um... this might be my dirtiest smut yet. this was also my first time writing a threesome soooo, i hope i did okay? thank you, anon!
request by: anonymous.
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“you’re lying! you’ve really never kissed anyone before?”
“dude, like, ever?!” peter gasped, and you turned towards him, slowly nodding while you grew cautious of everyone’s confusion. 
“not even when you were in kindergarten?” you twisted your neck for the nth time at the sound of dick’s voice again, and shame unexpectedly crept onto you the more the two men collected their bafflement together.
your cheeks and neck flamed as they both stared at you, bewildered as if your confession was akin to an unmasking of a superhero—like a family of lemurs, a small one, you’d reckon.
“geez,” your hand clutched onto the can of sparkling water harder before downing it, ridding your insecurity in several hard and fizzy gulps. “if i knew i was going to be interrogated, i wouldn’t have told you guys in confidence.”
“no, it’s just…” a careful exchange was puzzled together by the two men. dick shrugged and peter stammered, following you into the kitchen of his apartment. “i mean, not to make you feel weird or anything, but you’re not ugly.”
“i- pete, was that supposed to be a compliment?” your eyes narrowed at him jokingly, maintaining the coldness of your gaze to break peter into nervous stammers. 
“w-what, no!“ he shook his head and approached you closer, a mixture of awkward laugher filling the feigned tension between the both of you. “wait- no, i mean, yes! it’s a compliment.”
you’ve always found it cute.
“i think what peter means is…” bouncy steps followed you two into the kitchen, more-so to sate his appetite for pizza after losing his tenth consecutive match on a game, but consider his curiosity piqued. a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese didn’t stop him from joining. “you’re handsome, he talks about it all the time.”
“dude...” peter grumbled and instinctively turned his body away out of your sight, sipping at nothing in his cup. the only fizz left was the glare he sent dick; like a sparkler on holiday festivities. 
“oops, my bad,” another bite, and dick took his cup of soda to gulp the grease down. “we find you handsome—though, i’m pretty sure (m/n) knew that since i hit on him when we first met.”
“god,” you laughed it off, picking the pizza box of gloopy cheese to take it in your mouth. “can you imagine? my first kiss being with you? or even peter?”
yes, you can imagine. those thoughts had run rampant since you met them in freshman year of university, expanded upon it even. what would it be like to date dick? how soft were his lips? and the same for peter. sometimes, you’d even think about making out while he was in his spider-man costume, but that fantasy was shamefully bookmarked into a deep abyss of thoughts, only sprouting when you would touch yourself at night.
“why?” peter turned back, almost offended, while dick’s laughter joined you, and you swear you can feel a draft from how quickly he twisted around. “is that weird?”
“kinda?” the conversation made you shift on your feet. it was more intimate than what you were used to, and they knew it too, judging by the way they both stared at you again—hyenas. “i mean, i guess it’s because we’re so close now, so…”
“pft, that never stopped me,“ it was like a magic spell drew that confession out of dick. your fingers would have to be cut to coerce that out of you, but you weren’t dick—shameless and confident, you admired it on good days. 
nonetheless, you and peter both gave dick a questioning look. offended would be a regular person’s first reaction, but from the brief exchange you and peter shared, it was unanimous that curiosity took the lead.
dick’s gaze shifted from you and peter, and when the silence drew out for longer than he would’ve thought, a welcoming draft in the room awaited his rebuttal. “come on- you seriously think i stopped thinking about you guys just because we’re best friends now?
“dude, you think about me?” peter’s eyes widened. it would’ve been hilarious if you weren’t involved. you would’ve passed this off as a banter, no more than that. 
you hated to admit it, but you felt yourself throb at this revelation. blood rushed downwards in light speed and you were barely conscious to the drone of peter and dick’s chatter, but you shook it off, laughing at their banters like you aways did.
the day went on like usual. peter’s collection of video games kept you guys entertained for a few hours. when you felt fatigued from mashing your thumb onto the buttons for the ninth match, a walk downtown sufficed. laughing and bantering were the core of your friendship with dick and peter—like every friendship you’d imagine.
but at its finest, it was their vulnerabilities to you, and yours to them, that kept the foundation strong. they trusted you with every secret of theirs, aided them in a few missions of their own, and your friendship thrived. 
the next few days haven’t been exactly the smoothest. you were quieter than usual, and they both took notice because you’d pick at your food while their voices—questions and comments—were ignored, passersby to the street of hearville.
was it that weird to have never kissed at your age? to never have had sex? to not even have had held hands with another guy? they never made fun of you, but you couldn’t help but let these thoughts run rampant.
no. no, it wasn’t. people have their own pace. mine... just somehow happens slower.
you weren’t insecure, but you still felt weird. you suddenly became moody when you saw dick and peter, like you want to be left alone, push them out of your apartment when they drop a visit, drop their pants and suck them off-
oh.
ohhhhh.
dick and peter.
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“teach me.” you suddenly spoke out and the two men looked up from their plate of food, exchanging a look with each other before questioning you, humored because you barely spoke all day. the tv played in the background and you were all sitting on the ground, eating off of peter’s very… very small coffee table.
“ah, i almost forgot what your voice sounded like, (m/n)!” dick laughed, twirling his fork into his pasta before shoving the food into his mouth. 
you made a slight pout, only because they weren’t taking you seriously. though, to be fair, you have been acting weird all week.
“with what?” peter noticed, a little more serious in his inquiry. but food was more of a priority for him, you can see him practically sweating at the thought of leaving his spaghetti cold.
“pete, you can still eat-“ you laughed, taking a bite of your food. 
“oh, thank god.” and peter does the same, chowing down on his spaghetti after a hard day of saving lives.
dick cleaned his palette with a cold gulp of soda, a refreshing hiss when the bubbles trickled down his throat. “so, teach you what exactly?” he continued on. “fighting? oh, dude, are you going to be a vigilante-“
“no, no! does it look like i have the strength to be like batman or something?” 
“well, i’m guessing that’s why you came to us for training?” dick amused himself, and peter chuckled, much to your annoyance. 
“guys, i don’t want to be a vigilante.” you grumbled, beginning to bury your confession deep in the pit of your stomach somewhere. “or a superhero, or a guy in a spider-suit with weird web things.”
“hey, they’re not weird-“
“i want to…” it was calming to watch the way your fork swirled itself into the pasta, metal tongs pierced and capturing a wave of sauce and spaghetti all in one swirl. “learn what it’s like to kiss.”
peter choked on his glass of water.
you continued, hot in the cheeks because you can see peter’s widened eyes even when you look away. “handjobs, blowjobs, everything…”
and a piece of dick’s meatball was caught in his throat.
a low drone accompanied the silence once the tv was muted and while a huge weight lifted off your shoulders and chest, you felt small knowing how vulnerable and weird your request sounded. 
“so, you want us to teach you how to…” dick cleared his throat and you feel like you could hear a smile, but you weren’t sure if that was your mind trying to convince you that everything was fine. “kiss and… other things?”
“yeah,” you continued to avoid your gaze, opting for the wooden floor instead. “i know, it’s weird. you don’t have to say yes or anything, it’s just-“
“is that why you’ve been acting stand-offish lately? peter was worried. he was the type to always blame himself of someone else’s behavior, no matter how much you tried to reassure him. though, you guess, he technically was the reason why you became so moody—part of it, anyway. 
“mhm.” the silence was defeating, you can hear their necks turn to look at each other—of judgement, most likely.
and it was all but confirmed when you can see them hopping back onto their feet and running—running as far from you as possible. “guys, wait, i’m sorry-“
you looked up and watched them dash to peter’s bathroom, immediately chasing after the trail of their steps in bewilderment. “what are you-“
“first step, make sure you have good breath.” dick handed you your toothbrush, his spare one at peter’s already brushing into the foaming spearmint in his mouth.
“atleastluntilhelikeyousenough” peter gargled thick and incoherent, brushing into his jumbled sentence.
“uh-huh, okay… seems a little obvious, but…” you spread the toothpaste on the bristles of your brush and began brushing, a smile forming because you have to brush the front teeth too—but also because of your best friends.
you can always count on them. 
“you ready?” dick naturally became the leader of this impromptu training program. he was the most experienced considering how many women and men you caught him with, and as much as you hated that when you were roommates with him, his expertise was needed in this moment. 
“yes.” you sat in the middle of peter and dick, rubbing your sweaty palms against your shorts. a mere flash of regret ignited inside of your beating heart, but peter rested his hand on top of one of yours, squeezing ever so gently to warm and soothe you—to pacify you.
and your worries were quelled when dick does the same, his smile softer, countering his usual playful attitude. “just stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable.” he made you feel safe.
you looked at peter, and he nodded in agreement, his fingers now intertwined with yours. he had always kept you safe, feeling safe, this was a normal feeling towards him. “same with me.” “i will.” your voice was quiet in the bedroom, a mere soft whisper, but they recognized your will to be more vulnerable with one another, to blossom. and dick appeased it with a kiss.
light and feathery at first to test the water, but once dick heard your breath hitch, he applied more pressure in between your lips, capturing them in a slow waltz that kept you on your toes, yet flat on your feet to contain your excitement—your relief. 
it was awkward at first, to find your footing. your nose would bump into his, teeth as well, but dick chuckled, assuring you this will always happen.
unbeknownst to you, dick’s been wanting to do this since he met you, and he savored every second. “remember what i told you… build it up.” he reminded you because you were getting eager, following his lead but returning his kiss in hard sucks. “nice and slow.” 
peter’s palm on your thigh pressed gently onto your bare skin, mistakenly under the lift of your shorts because he was too in awe of the kiss, but they grounded you from your brief flight to the heavenly clouds nonetheless.
“nice and slow…” dick repeated, and you succumbed to his reminder like a prodigy. “that’s it.” it lasted for a few seconds longer until you pulled away to capture your breath again. your lips tingled still, remembering the taste of spearmint when dick’s breath ghosted on your skin.
“was that okay?” an innocent question, but you swore you stole that exact same tone from a porn you watched the other day.
“a natural,” dick laughed, stroking your hair back and you’ve never see him so affectionate—loving, as he doted on you. “try it on peter. more touching though, if you’re okay with that.”
you nodded and turned your head, meeting peter’s gaze with a flushed smile, your lips slightly swollen from your previous endeavor. “I’m okay with that.”
“me too.” peter smiled, only softening when you leaned in, and it completed hid against you when you captured his smile with a kiss. 
his hand gently placed on the back of your head when you did and he pulled you closer into him, returning the kiss, and spilling his breath into yours, while at the same time, drawing yours out. “rub my chest, i like it when people do that.” peter whispered in between each kiss.
you do as you were told, a gentle hand to peter’s broad chest, and you feel yourself tightening, satisfied with how intimate this all is as you felt the muscles on his chest through the fabric.
in the meantime, dick’s been squeezing at the bulge in his pants, containing his will to completely ravish you simply by watching the way you and peter made out. he’s always been observant, noticing the strong twitching of peter’s own erection, and soon yours when peter slid his tongue into your mouth. 
it was tantalizing—breath-taking— watching intimacy build up and vulnerabilities become unimaginably pliant before him. the pink muscles looped and swirled with one another, spreading and sharing sticky saliva until your mouth and peter’s were practically coated in it, glossed in sheen.
when peter pulled away, your lips were immediately stolen by dick again, kissing you with more strength than before, stubbornly refusing the chance for you to restock on oxygen as he wanted a taste of you too. the air became thicker, harder to breathe, but you basked in the taste, the wetness of dick’s tongue, and allowed yourself to become weak in his arms when he took you in, embraced you closely. “mmf...” you moaned out, breathing harder.
but just like dick, peter wasn’t finished with you, directing his tongue and lips to the back of your neck when you turned away. his ticklish and fleeting kisses pulled you back into peter’s arms, but dick noticed and pulled you forward: a stubborn game of gentle tug of war. 
they wanted you, every piece of you. it was telling as peter sucked into your neck, venomous and poisoning, and when dick began directing your hand under his shirt, allowing you to feel his toned stomach and chest, and eventually his clothed erection, making you squeeze around it with an open palm.
lessons have completely escaped to the back of minds, and all that remained was pure lust.
“it’s okay if you don’t want to.” dick reassured. though, ironically, his hand atop of yours, relieving the ache in his pants continued.
through swollen lips, you managed to mutter, distracted by peter’s bruising sucks to other areas of your neck and skin, whimpering when he bit a little too hard. “i did say teach me everything…” his hands were under your shirt now, warming your bare skin with his palms, excited, but fleeting as they immediately tied to the buttons of your shorts when you gave the okay.
“hey, hey,” dick laughed, watching the way peter has grown grandly impatient. “you’re going to scare him, horn dog.” he left a kiss on your lips, a quick one before leaning past you to kiss peter.
you watched in awe at what a kiss was supposed to be like: burning with ease and passion with every stroke of their lips, no hesitation at all—just a moment of time that they’ll remember. you backed into the bed and leaned against the headboard as they kissed at the foot. you don’t remember having your hand down your shorts, but you do, palming yourself to your own private show.
the kiss ran sloppy, drool dripping down either chins, stained with intimacy, and clothes were quickly tossed to the side, with no care in the world.
you followed.
even though you were similar height to peter, he was stronger—they both were. and now, you felt smaller as they climbed onto the bed, towards you, bare and hardened. you watched breathlessly, as their cocks swung heavy with heat. peter’s pre-cum dripped thickly in yearn for something to fuck, while dick’s throbbed for something to fill—a porn scene come to life—and you were left agape, jaw and legs.
“kinda surprised we’ve never done this sooner,” peter said, you weren’t used to his voice so low. kneeling on the bed, by your left hip, he took your hand and kissed the palm, the wrist of it, skimmed his lips over your forearm before guiding It toward his cock, aching for your touch. “though, was hoping i’d have you to myself, but…” gently, your hand was cradled to wrap around his shaft, warm and running with veins, it pulsed. “this works too.”
your chest rose with every spoken word, and peter has never looked hotter. taking control of you like that made your skin crawl, a spell that commanded you to move your hand back and forth, conjuring you to pump him in slow strokes.
contrary to his overall demeanor, his actions were of warmth. caresses to your head, doting on you with honey dripping from his gaze and cotton in touch while you sinned. 
you didn’t know where to look—to fall in love with the way peter gazed at you like a painting in a museum, or to salivate over the way his pre-cum leaked thickly over your hand when you squeeze it out of him, like a bottle of maple syrup.
that became more a problem—a dilemma—when you felt a wetness over your right nipple, then a sting when dick bites to get your attention—selfish and stubborn, like always. “are you sure this wasn’t a tactic to get all three of us in the same room? you seem comfortable.”
he tongued your nub, flicking back and forth to make you squirm, to hear the sound of your moans, to be the reason you have trouble sleeping at night. alongside, his palm ran over your body—chest first, down your stomach, and finally, your erect cock and balls.
you watched, breathless, continuing to stroke peter’s cock and he’d lean over to give you a few kisses here and there. for the most part, he was content like this, watching you squirm while maintaining to do the best to pleasure him.
“no, i swear- it’s just-“ dick played with your balls, squeezing and tugging on the tight sack to loosen them. every man was sensitive down there, you were no exception. “you guys made me feel safe, so…”
“well,” you looked up when peter spoke, his eyes fluttered shut, and you only got them to open when you thumbed the slit of his head, rubbing slick all over his glans, then the length of his cock when you continued stroking. “we are superheroes.”
you all laughed, switching gazes between the both of them, but it was dick’s mouth suddenly wrapping around you that made you concentrate only on him.
“oh, fuck…” warmth surrounded you, inhaled you in one shallow breath, before dick pulled you out of his wet mouth, taunting you with the loss of heat.
“it’s just like kissing,” he said, licking a stripe over the underside of your cock, tonguing his favorite spot: the neck of the glans and the frenulum. dick followed the lines of flesh with precision, leading the very tip of his tongue into the duct of your urethra—once again, tonguing it while his eyes focused on you, devious. “but let curiosity take you further and explore every part of their body.”
“m-mm…” you were sure there was meaning to his words, but they fell on deaf ears. instead, you focused on the ample heat that engulfed you again, moaning.
“every.” dick took you in and pulled you out with a pop.
“fuck-“ you breathed out, curling your toes into the sheets.
“part.” holding your cock up and stroking sloppily, he inhaled your ballsack. sweaty and musty, they must’ve been, but dick devoured the scent, the taste of sins with hungry sucks and licks—ardent and full of fervor.
and at the moment where you most expected to let out a moan, it was shoved down your throat when peter suddenly situated you in between his legs and filled your mouth with his thick cock, smelling of sweat and sex when you inhaled near his trimmed hairs.
“come on,” peter briefly pulled out, tapping the plump tip over your lips. “you learn best when you demonstrate what you’ve been taught.”
peter covered your view of dick, but you weren’t sure if you needed to see him because you felt every maneuver of dick’s tongue, now drowning your cock with his mouth while he continued assaulting your sensitive balls, tugging and squeezing. 
you looked up and peter never looked bigger, more intimidating, but it’s become your new addiction, and you take his cock, holding it thick and take in what you can. it was barely past the tip before you could feel yourself gagging, but with peter’s reassurance, you swallow more of him every time you went down, slicking him up with your spit.
“how’s he doing, pete?” your cock was left cold when dick pulled away to speak, but he made up for it with his hand, stroking his spit with your cock.
“he really is a natural.” peter chuckled, watching you with a scrunched face of pleasure whenever you pulled him deeper into your mouth. almost down your throat now, but he pulled his cock back completely before you can fully take him. “you try.”
“fuck, yes.” dick leaped over and used the spit from your length earlier to lube his own cock, spitting in his palm and stroking when it wasn’t slicked to his likening while peter scooted back to kneeling at your side, stroking himself now.
as your head was positioned in between both their cocks, dick’s was bigger, thicker—a mouth stretcher you’d imagine. but peter’s was longer, veinier, and the only thing they had in common was that their balls hung loose. in porn terms, hung like a horse. 
and on this very day, you considered yourself a lucky man because you have no objection to either, no will to pick and choose.
“look at you,” dick’s voice was rugged, deep, and he pushed his cock past your swollen lips. there was a clear difference in girth. your mouth was stretched wide, and you could only hum a sound of satisfaction, even with the slight sting from the stretch of skin. “who knew you’d be such a cock lover, hm?” 
“he can’t get enough of it, god…” peter was in awe, salivating and stroking quicker at the sight.
two hands kept dick’s cock still in your mouth while you sucked on the bulbous tip like a lollipop. the rest of your hands stroked whatever you couldn’t mange to fit in your mouth. you were apologetic at first, but dick’s smirk told a simple story of his ego, clearly aroused by the size of his own cock as it only grew wider when you struggled downing him, gagging with a whimper.
“come on… (m/n), you can do better than that. you were so good at sucking peter off, kissing us too. what happened?” dick pulled away to stroke himself with your spit, but he quickly buried any excuses into your throat when he pushed himself into your mouth.
“you’re too comfortable now, (m/n). you’re slacking…” peter joined the banter, and when dick pulled out of your mouth, peter’s cock replaced the loss of warmth to your surprise.
holy shit, this is happening.
like a see-saw, the two men alternated in filling your mouth, stuffing saliva further and further down your throat, without allowing a single excuse from you to escape. it’s buried now, deep in the pit of your stomach, and all you can do was be the prodigy that they wished for you to be.
when it was dick’s turn to stretch your mouth, you made sure that peter’s cock wasn’t left abandoned, stroking him with distracted strokes, and vice versa when it was his turn at your throat. you overworked yourself in pleasuring your two best friends, making sure they were satisfied with you, with your mouth as you took more of them without a single plea for a break.
“fuck, there we go…” occasionally, dick would take control by holding the back of your head and fucking inside of your tight mouth. drool leaked down either corners of your mouth while you let him, tears brimming in your eyes when your throat tightened again, a familiar feeling that dick encouraged to hold back. “there’s my star. taking cock like a good student.” 
if there was one thing that these very brief lessons have taught you, you were exactly what they named you: a cock lover. you slurped at whatever—whoever—entered your mouth absentmindedly, spat on cocks that have begun to look more or less the same, because it was dizzying now. your cock was left alone, but it stood tall and proud, throbbing as the two men harassed your face and mouth with their erections. one would gag you while the other had his balls shoved to your face and nose, sliding its wet, dirty slick all over your skin, staining you with lust.
it alternated like this for a while, and you were content, so was dick and peter. but you needed more—something to fill you elsewhere that wasn’t your dirty mouth. and you pleaded with your eyes, looking up at your best friends with delighted tears, a mouthful of cock, and a gaze only a cock loving whore could have—and they recognized it. 
peter was reluctant to pull away, he was so close. but he’s always been selfless. he released his hold on you and it was a struggle to pull you away, but he did with your lips suctioning off with a quiet pop. a thick string of spit that once connected between your lips and peter’s cock laid like webs on your chin, cooling as you watched the two men reposition themselves.
“i’m going to assume we don’t need a lesson in how to finger yourself, hm?” dick whispered against your swollen lips and kissed you again. you were entranced under his tongue, swirling all over yours like ocean waves while you touched yourself to his licks. you twisted and pinched your nipples, tugged on them with the occasional help from dick, then stroked your cock while dick continued from peter’s original trail of bruising kisses to mark his own territory on your body. you were as horny as they were, if not hornier, and you needed them inside of you, in any way possible.
“fuck, i need you guys so bad.” breathless in your moans, your legs squirmed when you felt something wet between your thighs when they were raised, peter’s nice girth sliding in between the plump skin. 
he thrusted himself slow and steady while he worked on your hole, reaching down to prepare you with his lubed digits, one by one. you’ve done this before, they were surely aware, so it wasn’t a unit that was particularly focused.
in between preparation, your mouth remained on dick’s cock again, delivering him your fullest attention with several lathers of your tongue, sucking hard and hollow, deep into your throat. you remember what he taught you and occasionally stuffed your mouth with his balls, sucking on the weight and letting go with a pull because you got off on seeing how they tensed and jiggled when you did.
“i’ll go slow.” peter leaned in with your legs hooked over his shoulders, bending you back, and kissing the tip of your nose when he was close enough to your face. “tell me if you want to stop.”
once you nodded, allowing him the will to deliver on his promise, peter made sure to lube himself up once more before pushing inside of you, slow and steady. he was careful, watching your face as it scrunched when the head slid in—burned when the rest of him filled you to the brim.
it was almost like you couldn’t breathe. it was too much, to be bearing all of this pain alone, but at the same time, you held peter close, wrapped your arms around him to prevent him from leaving you while you buried tiny whimpers into his neck, because you don’t want to stop feeling it, so full and devoured. it was written all over their faces when you glanced at them—they didn’t want to stop either. 
peter and dick decorated your skin in wet kisses, distracting you from the pain while peter began to find a rhythm. although slow, you were beginning to familiarize yourself with this pain. soon after, pleasure, when he struck something inside of you, a certain spot.
“oh- peter, right there, fuck.” your legged tightened around him and the sweat from your thighs rolled back onto your stomach when peter re-adjusted himself to fuck you at a higher angle, folding you onto your back. 
“yeah? right here?” peter thrusted into that spot dead-on, like a dart to a bullseye, and you groaned, your throat aching in pleasure, but dick pacified it with his cock again, filling you up once more. “oh fuck, look at you. all of your holes are filled up, fuck… so fucking tight”
“baby, you’re doing a great job, god…” your heart beat when dick called you that. it was always something he said as a joke when he arrived to your place. honey, darling, you name it, but the fact that it came out so genuine, it made your skin flush red and you could only respond in moans while you sucked him off. “i think he likes it when you fuck him like that, pete.”
for the first time, you felt wanted. 
peter’s thrusts were hard and strong, his balls swung into with every rhythm. you can see the muscles in his thighs flexing whenever he pounded down into your tight hole, your bodies colliding like waves to a rock. it stung whenever his skin slapped into yours, sweaty and musky, but the sinful sounds were well-worth the prize as you basked in them, in the taste of dick’s cock, the sound of peter’s grunts, the flutter of dick’s eyes when you gargled his cock again, deeper, the sweat dripping from peter’s forehead and body—the bedroom hailed of sex. it rocked of brutal creaks and slams as both of your holes were violated and filled to the very brim, all driven by pure lust. 
after some time, they switched spots, tag-teaming so dick can have his turn at your hole. unlike peter, he was rougher, immediately pounding into you because he was sex-crazed about you, couldn’t stop thinking about you since day one of meeting you.
“fuck, better than i’ve ever imagined,” he laughed into your mouth, kissing you sloppily, and pulling away when peter’s cock impatiently wedged himself in between the kiss, and you were back to sucking and jerking off cock again—no complaints. “still so tight, even after peter fucked you so hard…”
“it’s like he was made to be a whore, right?” such vulgar language from your best friends broke the original portrayal you had of them. now, all you could think about was how they wanted to absolutely make a wreck out of you, de-blossom your naive thoughts of what your first time should’ve been like.
it wasn’t what you had imagined. it was supposed to be with one person. a full-time commitment to your relationship. a loving pair holding each other close when they both climax. it was going to be special.
but this… you thought to yourself as you were fucked into the bedsheets with absolutely no mercy, your ass pained and bruised from dick’s muscular hips driving into you every time he came down, harassing you in that familiar spot again.
this was… peter pushed on your bottom lip with two fingers to open your mouth, then spitting in the void, some catching onto your tongue, before shoving his swollen cock inside of you again, aching to touch—to fuck.
dick palmed your cock as you writhed, bent under him, moaned around peter’s long cock. he gathered all of his strength left to tickle you deep, to reach inside of you with his cock, breathless and panting with every thrust that rocked the two of you together—three, when peter fucked into your mouth. 
this was so much fucking better. 
“holy shit-“ under dick’s touch, you came hard in several thick ropes, all over his fist, and then the sweat of your body when he opened his palm. you were a natural shooter, accidentally spraying your face with your own thick semen, and you heard peter and dick moan in unison, in awe.
seeing you dressed in cum like this had them race each other to their climax. dick fucked you harder, his grasp on your hips bruising and white, while peter held onto your head and met your throat with his cock, repeatedly forceful in strength. you gagged around him, and they only benefitted from every sound you made.
“fuck, i’m going to-“ you watched peter’s abs flexed, tightened as his stomach pooled with pleasure, and you can hear the holy bells ring when he pulled out of your mouth, jerking his wet and slimy cock off until he came undone in thick spurts, all over your pretty face. not a single shot was missed, painting you in white like a canvas with every last drop.
you were still high off of your own orgasm, and you turned your head to watch dick fuck himself into you, clearly wonder-strucked by the scene before him. you were covered in cum all over. they beckoned him to join, the many loads on your body. they were begging now, a mantra of pleas pulled him closer to you, and he can smell the sex off of you, inhaled peter’s musk as well, and again—those holy bells rang.
with the speed of lightning, dick pulled himself out of your abused hole and climbed over to kneel over your chest, fucking into his fist while simultaneously jerking his cock off over your face. to your cum-covered body, to peter kissing his spunk off your cheek and chin then your lips, to the taste of your own cum when you swiped a load off your chest and fed it into dick’s mouth. he suckled, bittersweet salt spread over his tongue, and he was ravished by the taste of you. 
dick then pushed his hips out and aimed his cock over your lips, still connected to peter’s for a messy kiss, stroking until the only reason he tore his gaze away was because his lids fell heavy, ceased his sight to roll his eyes back, and came with a shudder. thick ropes of cum inked on your face and peter’s, but most of it fell to your connected lips. 
“fuck, that’s hot…” dick muttered, rolling his shoulders back while he milked himself to you and peter making out, cum-stained and all. you moaned at the taste, saltier than yours and peter’s, and peter does the same while scraping a load of warm cum from the corner of your cheek and into his mouth before kissing you again, swapping the gloopy residue with a sloppy exchange of tongues.
he was envious, watching how the sticky load caught onto your lips then peter’s when he squeezed himself dry. before you and peter could take all of his cum for yourself, he leaned down to join peter for a kiss, stealing the mound of cum that peter has expertly hidden on his tongue. dick didn’t know who he was tasting anymore. but whether it was you, peter, or himself, it was delectable, and he wanted to share the delightful taste with you. he spat the mixture of cum and spit inside of your mouth before webbing his lips to yours, sealing it with one final breathless kiss.
“so, are lessons still on for next week or?” peter lay by your side, and dick joined the other, still dizzied from his high as telling by his shut eyes and drawn out pants. 
“i mean… i’m still up for it if you guys are?” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to peter’s cheek. you took his smile as an answer and looked to dick for his.
“mm... yeah.” dick sleepily opened his eyes, his locks stuck to his sweaty forehead while he buried himself under the blanket. you felt his arms wrap around your waist once he got comfortable, muttering a kiss to your shoulder before dozing off. 
“we’re good teachers, pete.
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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tootiecakes234 · 5 months
Text
Warning: NSFW
Character aged up
You ask Katsuki if you can paint his PP🤭:
“No! Get the hell away from me!” And he starts walking away from you.
“But Katsuki! I’d make it so pretty. I already have a vision in mind. I want to paint it into a microphone! Maybe sing a song into it.” You say following behind him, positive you aren’t helping your situation.
“Y/N if you don’t get away from me right now, we are breaking up. I’m packing my shit and leaving and you’ll never see me ever again! I meant it.” And he plops down on the couch with an exaggerated groan. “You’ve lost your entire fucking mind, smooth brain.”
You know you’re gonna have to grovel for this one. You try to slide yourself onto his lap, but he pushes you off and you bounce a little on the couch cushions.
“No, you’re not kissing and snuggling your way into this. I’m not letting you practice your goddamn painting skills on my dick. Where do you even come up with this shit?” He says now looking at you with wide, concerned eyes.
“Well I was scrolling on TikTok-“
“And there it goes. I’m not even surprised.”
You lean over and run your hands over the his wide chest and buff arms.
“‘Suki when you think about, a microphone is only two colors. Black and grey. It would only take me like 5 minutes.” And then you start pressing kisses to his neck. “Pretty please. I’ll even hop in the shower with you after and help you clean up.” There’s a sultry lilt to your voice. This is something you pull out all the weapons in your arsenal for.
“Y/N i go along with a lot of your dumbass ideas, but I’m drawing the line. No paint on my d-dick. Fuck, cut it out.” You had slipped your hands down his stomach and right under the shorts he had on.
“But it’ll be easier to paint if its hard Kat, don’t ya think?” You whisper up against his ear. You run your thumb over the top and smear the precum over his slit.
“Ugghhh. I hate you, you know that.” He groans really low.
“Mmmmhhh. Pretty please,” you say and stroke down to the base of his cock and then back up. “With a cherry on top.”
“You have 10 f-fucking minutes! And that paint better be safe for skin or I swear to god!” He shouts at you.
You’re up and off the couch before he can even finish that sentence and within a minute you’re back with the paint you already had prepared and brushes.
You get down on your knees, in between his legs, and place your supplies on the ground next you. For him to be so against it, he’s already pulled off his shirt and underwear. He’s accepted his fate.
“Okay, if any of the brushes are uncomfortable or the paints don’t feel good, let me know k?” You say looking up at him.
This man has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring daggers into you.
“What the hell ever woman. Hurry up, your time’s tickin.”
So you pick up a big fluffy brush and dip it into the black paint before you start working on the base of his dick.
As soon as the brush touches against his skin Katsuki screams bloody murder. Its scared the hell out of you and you’re surprised at yourself that you don’t drop the damn brush and get paint everywhere.
When you look up at him to ask him what’s wrong the bastard has a smirk on his goddamn face his shoulder are shaking because he’s holding in his laughter.
“You should’ve seen yourself. Your entire body took a screenshot. I thought you might go into shock.” Now he’s outwardly laughing loud as fuck.
He thinks he’s such a comedian. Well too bad for him because we’re a freakin party clown.
While he’s still laughing you bend down and take the head of his cock in your mouth and swirl your tongue all over it.
His laugh is cut short and you look up to see him squeezing his eyes shut. You pull your head back up and give him a sweet smile.
“So now, how about you cut out the jokes and let me focus on my masterpiece.” And you hear him grumble back some kind of rude response but you take that as an understanding.
You breathe and try to gain your composure before you start back on the task in front of you. You again start at the base of his cock and then do long stokes upwards until you get right below the shroomed tip.
You’re about halfway through when you notice his cock twitching and leaking pre all over.
Oh my gosh he likes this. Or it at least feels good because damn. When you look up at him there’s a blush covering his face and his lips are tight like he’s trying to hold in sounds that might escape. His eyes though are trained on the brush in your hand as you work.
You were about to speak when he cut you off, “Don’t. Just hurry up and finish”
“Yes sir” you say slyly as your start working on the other side.
“Ok. Base is done. Now the tip, I know how sensitive you are so I’ll try to be gentle.” And now you’re the one with a smirk on your face. “Look I can’t paint correctly if there’s precum constantly leaking up here.”
“The fuck do you want me to do. I’m not making it leak out on purpose.” He rolls his eyes at, throws his head back and uses his arm to cover his face. Hes not quick enough to cover the blush that’s dusting his cheeks.
It’s so funny that he still get embarrassed in front of you. You take your thumb and lightly run it over the top to pick up as much pre as possible then you pop it in your mouth. Then you get to work.
You dab lightly around it and make sure to avoid the opening. You hear Katsuki’s breath become more ragged.
“Ok, I’m all done. Take a look.” He removes his arms and leans his head back up. You see that his eyes are blown but you try to ignore it for now. “Do you see the vision?”
“This is so dumb.” Is the only answer you get from him.
Next thing you know you’ve wrapped your hand around it and you start singing. “ANNNNDDDDD IIIIIIIII—eeeee-IIIIII will always love Y-“
You’re cut off because he’s gotten up grabbing you with him and now you’re thrown over his shoulder.
“I’m done with this. Not about to watch you sing Karaoke into my penis. You promised me a shower.”he says as he starts striding toward the bathroom.
“But I wasn’t done! I wanted to take pictures and maybe rap a verse or two. Kats wait dammit.”
“No. I was nice. I let you play and have your fun. Now it’s my turn to play around and have some fun.” You can hear the smug grin on his face.
You take this opportunity and slap his naked ass hard asf. You were right outside the bathroom door and the jerk sets you on your feet so quickly you feel like you’re gonna fall.
“You’re gonna pay for that brat.”
And oh do you pay for it.😭
Katsuki Masterlist
Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @i-literally-cant-with-this @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife
*I have a tag list. Let me know if you wanna be added💕🤗
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becomingmina · 7 months
Text
FUCKBOY MIN. little series w/ LEEKNOW
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18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: lee minho x female reader genre + warnings: previous fkbuddy relationship, angst, smut mdni!, min is mean, oral (f recieving), semi-public (empty bathroom), hyunjin is a character wc: 3.4k mina's note: Minho is kinda mean. The way I would have done anything for him just so he can like me back. ❤️‍🩹
other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.
series chapter ➵ part two, part three ending one
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"Isn't that Y/N?" Han asked looking over the older boy's shoulder.
Minho turns his head around and sees you amongst the crowd - of the very grand party he dreads. He feels himself tense up at the sight of you, he hasn’t seen you in a while and you looked as beautiful as ever. He can feel the corner of his lip turn up as he replays memories of him and you, and that’s when he realises he misses you.
But the feeling soon fades when he notices you’re with a guy. Only a month and you already found yourself a guy? Loud sweet giggles falls from your lips as you grip the man's biceps, laughing about nothings. He scoffs to himself as he recognises the man.
“Out of all the boys in this fucking city, she chose fucking Hwang Hyunjin?” Minho blurted, he was mad. “She’s got a type. Fuckboys,” he turns back around to Han and raises his brows, as if asking for him to agree with the statement.
“You’re not going to do anything right hyung?” Han nervously asked, knowing his hyung will definitely be doing something.
“She just looks too happy, Han. I gotta ruin it for her. Especially when it’s Hwang Hyunjin she’s fucking with,” Minho says before downing the rest of his drink and ditching the younger boy.
Minho met you a couple months ago at one of his mother’s grand get-together. He only came to these events in hopes to find a hook up or a quick fuck, he was never here to support his mom on what ever event-job-work-promotion she got herself into. He probably got with half of the girls who attended these parties with their rich parents.
“Imagine what your daddy would think of his sweet innocent daughter completely coming vulnerable underneath some guy she just met?” Minho would often whisper in their ears as he thrusts into them. He would say anything to get them to sleep with him then ghost them the next day, leaving them restless.
However you weren’t like any of these girls to him, well at first. Minho was addicted to you, he couldn’t put his finger on it but he kept coming back to you. After seeing you a few times, he proposed for you both to be fwb and you agreed, because to be very honest, Minho was hot and he was a great fuck, the best if you can say. Also, something about him felt very secure to you. Meaningless fucks turned into lingering kisses, then turned into secrets date nights. You both shared such gentle and heartfelt moments, like cooking dinner together to holding hands randomly. Minho became so romantic with you secretly, but he never sincerely voiced it. You fell for him. You wanted to do anything for him in hopes that he liked you back. You became obsessive, got restless, jealous that there was many other girls hovering around him. You wanted him to yourself, and it got to the point where you had pull him away one night, letting your tears run down your face as you admitted your feelings to him, intoxicated. And maybe because he never dealt with such heavy feelings and high emotions like this before that, he turned on you.
“Y/N, you're just like the other girls.. Maybe worse. Easy. Clingy. I would never like you back.. Are you crazy?" You couldn't believe it, he abandoned you. Minho ended up treating you just like all the other girls.
Now the other half of the girls that Minho didn’t hooked up with were probably sorted by Hwang Hyunjin. The city’s heartbreaker. Classic story of two best friends that now hates each other. Minho and Hyunjin grew up together, basically brothers due to their mother’s close friendship. But when the boys got older they grew apart. Times that was supposed be spent together catching up on a tv show or playing basketball turned into time spent with a girl trying to get her to undress underneath them. It was now a competition to see who played the most girls. Oh how toxic.
So when Minho saw you in the ballroom with Hyunjin, he assumed you two were sleeping together. Minho needed to get you alone before the end of the night.
He needed to ruin you, in order to ruin it for Hyunjin aswell.
“Should I get you another drink?” The long haired boy asked realising the glass in your hand was almost empty.
“I was actually eyeing the orange slices over there-” you pointed out, gesturing to the massive grazing table.
“-Mimosa?” He was quick to respond, tone so sweet and cheeky.
“You know me too well Hyunjin,” you smiled admiringly up at the boy.
“I’ll get the champagne, you get the oranges and we meet back here then,” he says, hints of his dorky smile showing.
You were finally alone.
"Hey baby," Minho speaks from behind you, his voice so deep, hands find their way to your hips sending chills down your spine. He used to call you that all the time, and your heart never fails to beat out of your chest from it.
Lee Minho. Why the hell was he behind you? Shouldn’t he breaking some poor innocent girl’s heart?
“I missed you.” You stood still at his words, unable to move.
No not this again.
"Minho, go away," you finally spoke, building up a wall that you know isn’t going to stay up.
"No. I need to talk to you baby. I missed you," he made sure you heard him, his hands now made its way higher to your waist. "You look so pretty tonight..” one hand rests on your waist as the other one slowly travels to your thigh. “I missed your pretty little body so much, baby,” his lips were so close to your face, the proximity is so familiar, so safe that you wanted to turn and press your lips on his. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Minho had you under his spell, his presence was all it took for you to consider him again. You lean back, head taking its place on his shoulder as your back pressed on his chest. You tilt your head up slowly, finally looking at him. Oh, he was so beautiful as ever. His cute little bunny teeth showing from his agape mouth, his pretty sparkly eyes looking down at you, and his sharp nose, which you remember you use to peck so much. You missed him so much, you couldn’t resist it anymore.
“Min.” You say in the most vulnerable tone ever, gripping his forearm, giving in to him. He smiles at the nickname, the nickname only you were allowed to call him by.
"Come with me," and with that he yanked your arm dragging you through the crowd, for sure going to leave Hyunjin confused when he comes back.
Minho pulled you into an empty bathroom and pressed you against the door after locking it, instantly smashing his lips on to yours. His lips feels so soft against yours and your body hasn’t felt this rush of adrenaline in a while that you were going insane. Already feeling yourself start to go wet, you were so bothered, you needed more. Your teeth clashes as he practically devours you, his hand hoists one of your leg over his hip.
“Need you on the counter, bunny,” he murmured in between the kisses, there goes the nicknames again. He carries you to the counter, helping you up, your legs immediately spreading for him to slot himself in between. His hand slips underneath your dress, brushing against your clothed core.
“Already so wet for me,” he smirks, feeling the patch on your panties. “Can I?” He asked tapping his finger twice on your core. You nodded throwing your head back and he accepts the invitation to suck on your neck, leaving marks. Minho’s fingers pulls your panties to the side, his pointer finger finally runs through your folds. You were so warm, so sticky already that Minho let out a moan into your neck, unable to control the pleasure he was also having. You jolted forward when his fingers finally entered you pumping you slowly, causing him to let out an airy scoff. “Need to taste, let me taste?” You nod again knowing every time Minho ate you out, he would reward you with his dick for being such a good girl. You wanted that again.
“Need to hear you say it, Y/N,” he stops his movements, to brush your hair out of your face adoring your features.
Verbal consent has always been a big thing to Minho. He has so much control when the other person expresses what they want. It feeds into his already massive ego seeing the other person submit to him, makes him feel like he was in winning. And right there and then when he asked that question he wanted you to submit, so he can feel bigger than Hyunjin.
“Yes, please Min. I want it,” you gave him exactly what he wanted. You missed this. You missed his body and how he fucked you, how he made love to you. You miss Minho. You miss how sweet and gentle he was. How he would text you if you got home okay after spending the entire day with him. How innocent and lovely he can be talking about his cats, his hobbies. You wanted him to like you back, to want you back that you were willing to let him do anything to you, to use you.
“You’re still so good baby,” he buttered you up pressing a kiss your lips once more, letting it linger on a bit before dropping to his knees. He bundles your thin long dress around your waist, pulling down your soaked panties and burying them deep in his pocket. He is met with your pretty pussy, glistening with arousal. Your scent takes him by surprise and he goes numb. Oh, how he remembers it all so well, he would spend forever in between your legs on a Sunday afternoon. He parts your thighs and moves his face closer to your cunt, finally sliding his tongue in your slit. You still taste as sweet as ever too and that was all it took for Minho to devour you, to eat you out like a starved man. You lean back on one hand and the other one finds its place in Minho’s hair keeping it there. He was so good with his tongue, alternating between giving fat stripes, kitten licks and harsh sucks on your clit. Minho was getting you closer to your orgasm. Moans and whimpers falls from your lips as you allow him to hear how good he is making you feel.
“Feels good baby? You still taste so sweet, I just know you’re still going to be so tight." he removes himself from you just so he can glance up at your fucked out state nodding to every word he was saying.
“Want to- to cum,” you needed to cum, you were on the verge of tears feeling the tension in your stomach start to fade..
“Hm?”
“Please, I want to cum Min,” you restates and he dives back down. He grips your thighs as he makes out with your pussy, his nose hitting your clit every now and then to get you going again. Minho picks up his pace, moving his kisses to your clit where he then sucks harshly earning a sharp moan from you. You jolt forward, thighs closing around him, throwing your head back as you spray Minho with your sweet release. You feel him smirk against your pussy, his mouth and chin coated in your arousal. That wasn’t enough for you, you wanted more. Your hand pushes his head further into your cunt as you grind down in his nose, riding out your high. Minho lets you use him, his tongue still overstimulating you until you were satisfied. Frankly, he found it hot how after just one taste you go feral for him.
He licks his lips cleaning himself off as he gets up from your legs, helping you pull down your dress. He cages you between his hands that are now resting on the counter, you don’t move. Just staring up at him, he examines your features again, taking all everything that he used to adore. Something about this moment just feels so innocent to both of you, that Minho can help but give you small giggles, his lips turning into a smile. You mirror it in return, sitting in silence as you both recalls the old times.
A sudden buzz of your phone causes you both to snap out of the sweet moment, heads turning to the device next to you on the counter. And Minho grows hot, his reputation overshadowed his feelings for you the second he saw Hyunjin’s name pop up. He lets out a scoff, remembering why he got you in this bathroom in the first place.
Minho's leans in slowly, one hand still gripping on the counter but the other comes up close to your face. Your phone forgotten now. You think he's about to kiss you but he dodges your lips, making his way by your ears as he lets out an airy chuckle, he sounded so cocky you were taken by surprise at his sudden change in demeanour.
"God, Y/N. You're still so easy," His tone deep aiming an attack on you as he reaches for the paper towel dispenser behind your head. He pulls out a towel throwing it to you, to clean yourself up. "Still so desperate for me". It broke you. He has never done this to you before, usually he'll be on after care and cleaning up. Your head snaps to his face, taking in his smirk and dark eyes. You swallow hard, a salty taste coat your tongue and you realise you're trying you best to not cry.
“Are you this desperate for Hyunjin too?” you furrowed your brows together in response. What?
“Hmm?” You asked confused.
“You got a type Y/N, you’re so pathetic.” He continues, the vibrating of your phone doesn't help but fuels his anger.
"Min, what do you mean?" It was clear to you that Minho and Hyunjin weren’t the best of friends when you meet with Minho. But that night when Minho abandoned you, Hyunjin witnessed the whole thing. He help you get up, covering you with his his coat, wiping away your tears and took you home.
"What are you doing here with Hwang Hyunjin?" he finally asked. But you don't respond, instead you hop off the counter, unable to control how hurt you are from his previous act. Your eyes sparkle, cheeks pink, lips trembling. He takes in your reaction, making him feel a bit guilty as he has seen this all before. The night you admitted your feelings.
"You guys fucking?" this time his tone and eyes soften, it was like he needed to confirm it first before continuing to take out his anger and tension on you. You reach for your phone but he snatches before you could, declining the call sliding it across the counter where you can’t reach.
"Does he fuck you as good as I do?" He moves in closer, your noses barely touching. "He treats you better than I do?" You stay quiet.
You didn't know what to answer. Do you lie? Do you teel the truth? Regardless at the end of this Minho isn't coming back to you right? You realised the moment he called you pathetic.
He moves in to kiss your cheek, a gentle peck. Your heart starts to race even more, unable to look him in the eyes. One hand comes up to hold your face, thumb rubbing against your cheeks. "Come on baby, tell me and I'll give you what you want," his lips comes in contact with yours. You melt into the kiss, your hands grasping the waist band of his trousers. Snap out of it, Y/N. "Hmm, you going to be good and tell me? He kisses you better than I do?" He kisses you harder, helping you back up the counter. He takes back his initial position, in-between your legs. Minho moves his kisses down your neck as his hands advances to your shoulders, pulling the thin straps down exposing your chest. He gulps at the sight and latching his lips onto your boob, his hand groping the other one. You tired your hardest not to give in but you cant, the feeling is too strong. You whimper at the contact, your hand palming his hard on through his pants. It was the first time you touched him that night and Minho throws his head back, unable to control the sexual frustration.
"Fuck- see what you do to me, baby?" He coos. You undo his belt, pulling his trousers along with his boxer down, meeting with his big cock. He was already so red, a bead of pre cum already spilling frim his tip. You grab the base of his cock, holding it firmly giving him a gentle pump. Just like the way you always did. Fuck Y/N I missed this so much. Minho finds himself addicted again as he shuts his eyes, a little moan slipping from his lip. You continue to pump him and he tries his best not to give into you but your hands felt so good, he could cum like this. You lean forward attaching your lips to his neck, leaving marks just like he did to you before. “Want you Min,” you whimper on his skin. You needed to feel him inside you.
"Answer me first, Y/N." He was getting irritated at your lack of answer. God, why are you so caught up on this Minho! Your phone rings again, the buzzing noises incites his thought, and that was the breaking point for him. Hwang Hyunjin. Only Y/N would want such a pathetic man like him. "I'm not fucking you if you’re dirty Y/N," he says and you halt your movements, completely removed yourself from him.
"What?" You replied. Minho is now faced with your confused face.
"You're so desperate Y/N. I can’t believe you’re with Hyunjin right after I left you? You're so dirty for that,” Minho repeat himself moving closer to you to provoke you, he was sure you had given yourself to the other bloke. Your lack of answer confirmed it for him too. “Did you fuck Hyunjin?" But he was determined to hear it.
You took a deep sigh, and all the names and remarks he had made to you tonight flooded your head. You’re hurt. God, Y/N you are pathetic. You wanted to turn this on him but you couldn’t. Regardless of what you answer, you couldn’t win and Minho won’t be yours.
"No I didn't because I love you, Min," you confessed, pushing him off you. You proceed to pull up your dress and jump off the counter. You needed to leave him.
You brushed past him retrieving your phone and bag, unlocking the door and walking out.
Leaving him the way he left you, abandoned. Although it was your feelings that he disregarded, leaving him while he was hard and sexually unsatisfied like this would have hurt the same for a fuck boy like him.
But Minho wasn’t hurt by that. Your words was the thing that stung him. Shes loves me? No one had ever done this to Minho, he didn't know what to do. Such a similar feeling to how you felt - when he ghosted you and just now.
His words still played in your mind, they're still lingering around you. You wanted to sob, cry your heart out but you couldn't just yet, only allowing the tears to build in your eyes. Did you really just let him treat you like that? You chose pleasure again instead of protecting your already broken heart. Minho was right, you are fucking easy. You see the exit through your blurry vision and you rushed to it, pushing into the many people that was just crowding around. Just as you're about to leave a hand pulls you back.
"Y/n, you okay?" You turned around to meet with Hyunjin, and you couldn't help but burry your face in his chest as you let your tears fall.
"I hate him," you cried loudly, your whole body shaking and your legs go numb. Hyunjin hugs you, both arms wrapped around you tightly as he lets you become completely vulnerable. You were safe with him.
"I know.. Let's go home."
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whitexwolfxx310 · 15 days
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|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.
Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader
Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!
Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.
Word Count: 5.4
A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!
In case you missed it, Part 1
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You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.
Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.
Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.
Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.
Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:
I’m not alone.
You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?
Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.
What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.
The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.
Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.
But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.
But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.
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It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.
"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.
Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.
Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.
“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.
Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.
“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”
Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.
Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.
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Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.
Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.
Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.
Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."
Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"
"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.
That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.
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After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.
She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.
"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"
"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.
You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.
Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.
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About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.
Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.
Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.
This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?
The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.
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Us. Hailee...
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Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.
“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.
Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.
You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.
Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.
There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.
Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.
Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.
As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.
Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.
It's a Ghostface mask.
He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.
"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.
Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.
"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.
"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.
"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.
The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.
The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.
Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.
Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.
That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.
Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.
The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.
"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.
You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.
"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.
There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.
It’s a choker.
Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”
“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.
You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.
Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.
Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.
Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.
Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.
Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.
There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.
Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.
That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.
Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.
The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.
"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.
"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"
Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.
“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.
Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.
Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.
Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.
With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?
Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.
There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.
"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.
You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.
He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.
It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.
In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.
Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.
"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.
You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.
His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.
You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."
Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.
The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.
"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.
"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."
If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist.
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sooniebby · 8 months
Text
Random thought… suddenly in my older men phase.. Trans masc reader, use of pussy, cunt, heat, folds. You’re 20 and the guy is 40.. no set character for this one! Creampies <3
Now… you’d always thought the max difference in age you’d allow in dating would be five.. not twenty. But it wasn’t like you were searching for this. He was just looking for someone to take care of his home as a live in maid. And you were a broke college student, needing a home and some cash.
And one thing led to another..
Which is how you find yourself gripping the glass table beneath you. You had just clean this damn table so you were a bit upset but all you could really think about was the man between your legs.
His grip tightened on your legs, keeping them apart as his tongue licked your cunt. His free hand occasionally rubbed your clit—causing you to flinch and thrust up into his mouth.
Your moans were filling the dining room. His tongue licking between your folds. The table beneath you creaked and squeaked as your body was gently rocked from the force of him eating you out.
You bit your lip, feeling his prominent nose accidentally rub against your clit. It was definitely one of your favorite features on his body.. besides his cock.
But even as you begin to whine for his cock, he was focused solely on you, one of his hands reaching down to slip two fingers inside of you.
It was slow at first—his fingers just starting to stretch you open. But like always, he began to thrust his fingers in and out, causing your body to shake as the pleasure began to feel like too much.
“W…wait!”
You’d whine, legs shaking as he continued to make sure you couldn’t clamp them shut. His hands were so big compared to your body, easily holding you down. Was it his age…? Or just the fact he still found the time to workout?
It didn’t take long before you cried out, cumming right into his mouth. But he’d always lap it up—despite your whimpers of it being “too much”. His fingers continued to stretch your pussy.
He pulled away from your legs, his lips wet from your cum. You always blushed in embarrassment even as he gave you a smile. It was his favorite “meal” of the day, so to speak. Though it was still embarrassing to think about.
He raised an eyebrow, pulling away from you as he watched you expectantly.
With a flushed face, you kept your legs wide open, your pussy the prize of the night for him.
“Please… Sir, I wanna cum again?”
He didn’t move, as if he wanted you to continue.
You tried to bush down any embarrassment. “I… wanna cum from your cock, Sir..” you whispered, looking away.
You only heard a soft laugh as suddenly you were harshly pushed down into the glass table. You could’ve sworn you heard a slight crack beneath you. But he didn’t seem to care about that.
He could always replace it, anyway.
Your legs were kept wide open as you felt his cock rest right against your cunt. He always teased you before fucking you. Letting his cock run down your slit, teasing you with it almost slipping inside.
He’d always enjoy your whimpers, your legs shaking and your body thrusting up, hoping to make him accidentally thrust inside. But he went by his own pace..
And he wouldn’t fuck you until he say you were desperate. When your eyes were prickling with tears and your lips pulled into a cute pout as he whimpered pleas..
Is when he fully grabs your waist, slamming his cock inside your stretched cunt. You’d always take him easily, legs wrapping around his waist as he fucked you purely for his own pleasure at this point.
Your hands always find themselves gripping his shoulder, tearing into his suit coat. He’s always fully clothed still compared to your naked or barely dressed body.
It keeps you in place. Your place, as his sweet little maid.
His cock always stretches you wide, causing you a pain and pleasure a dildo can’t. His thrusting causes your skin to slap together, creating the sound that fills the room with your constant mewls and screams.
It never takes long for your cunt to clamp around his thick cock and you’re cumming again. He doesn’t stop fucking you through it, holding you down on your stomach to keep you still during your second orgasm.
He slows down after a second as you try to catch your breath. But you know it’s not over yet.
He grabs your waists and picks you up, holding you close while his cock is still deep inside you. You’re tired and practically on the verge of sleep.. but you wrap your arms around his neck as he walks over to the bedroom.
As soon as he reaches the bed, he drops you onto the bed, his thrusts immediately continuing once more. You can only cry and moan in response—body overwhelmed. His hands keep tight on your waist, keeping you still.
His groaning always tells you he’s close. And once his thrusts become short and harsh, causing your body to shake violently, is when he finally cums.
It’s always deep inside of you. He stays still inside, making sure his full load releases as far as it can go. And once he pulls out, you shiver at the light feeling of cum slowly seeping out of your sore cunt.
He reached down and slowly pushed a small amount back inside of you, smirking at your small gasps at the feeling of his fingers.
You don’t even have to glance at his cock to know it’s still hard, still dripping precum.
You heard the sound of his coat falling to the ground and his shoes being taken off. His cock rubs against your cum filled pussy, still hard as it slowly presses back inside you.
He’s still hard and eager for round two..
Despite his age, he’s still as horny as a teenage..
Good thing you’re here to always satisfy him <3
Trying to get better at describing sex with a trans masc reader.. hopefully this was still good enough lol. Also just wanted to post a story so you guys know I’m still writing <3
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entirelysein-e · 22 days
Text
『 Becoming his princess 』
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☼ synopsis: Toji was obsessed with making you his sweet anal princess - entirely drunk on his cock stretching you so well.
☼ character: Toji
☼ wc: 3.2k
☼ cw: fem!reader, anal play, (first time) anal, Toji talking the reader into trying something new and pushing boundaries, consent checks, sex toys, lots of teasing and praise, reader getting called "good girl" and "princess", overstimulation, creampie, mentions of fingering, gentle aftercare
☼ notes: welcome to the depths of my brain when it comes to this man. Thank you @suyacho and @kenpachisbrat for letting me write this in chat! 🫶 | don't forget to sign up for my taglist so you won't miss a post!
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Toji had always been an ass man, that much was clear. Whenever you two were cuddling on the couch or making out, his broad hands always found their way to the globes of your ass. You didn't mind it, you were actually starting to enjoy it, but lately he started to push you further. The talk of trying out anal came up, which you quickly turned down. Your ass was a one-way route, exit only and the thought about having Tojis cock in there made your skin crawl in all the wrong ways. Without another choice, Toji didn't bring up the topic again, but he didn't stop to feel you up either since you never expressed any issues with it previously, so why not push your boundaries a little?
The next time he had you on all fours, he grinned dirty when his tongue dragged through your drenched folds, eating you out like a man starved, but instead of sinking his tongue into your cunt to have more of your juices melt on his tongue, he dragged it further up to tongue at your puckered hole for just a second. The foreign sensation made you squeak and move away before giving him an angry glare, to which he only feigned innocence, hands held up high, but that wolfish grin on his lips gave it away. “Just couldn't stop myself, darling. Won't happen again,” he promised, half assed but he meant it. You made it clear that you didn't like it and he wouldn't push it - at least not with his tongue. In reality, you weren't sure about how you felt about it, that big taboo clouded your judgment because it actually didn't feel that bad when his wet tongue toyed with your ass, but you shook your head, the thought gone as quickly as it came. Perhaps you'd let him indulge in his little fantasies when you're fucked dumb on his cock, at least that way you won't be able to think about it too much.
Toji was caught by surprise when you nodded softly as he was running his thumb over your puckered hole, his dick buried deep in your cunt. “Want me to push it in, hm?” He asked with a teasing smirk, but that was his mistake, he made you think about it. Unsure about it, you groaned into the pillows, your face buried in the plush fabric, while your hips were high and working to meet his thrusts. “Don’t ask me like that... That's weird,” you mumbled between breathless moans and he made a mental note about putting you in this position again next time, simply putting his hand back onto the globe of your ass as he continued to fuck you into the mattress. Once again, your mind was clouded with the taboo you almost explored and perhaps you just needed to talk with him? Let him know that you're simply nervous about it and his teasing isn't helping - quite the opposite, actually.
"Why do I want to fuck your ass?” Toji repeated your question, the heat rising to your face upon hearing his words that were followed by a chuckle.
“Because that's hot and feels good. For both of us, if it's done right,” he eventually answered nonchalantly, and you nodded.
“Would you do it then? The right way, I mean, so it feels good? But please stop your teasing it's-” Your words started flooding out, rambling in your nervous and slightly embarrassed state, but the black-haired man interrupted you.
“You're rambling, my sweet,” he grinned and leaned in to capture your lips in a sweet kiss that left you wanting more. His lips always left you addicted, wiping your head empty and filling it solely with him.
“Let me make you feel good.” His words sent shivers down your spine and you absentmindedly nodded, allowing him to give you that sweet taste of pleasure you both craved now. In an instant, he pulled you across the couch and onto his lap, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his hands roamed over your back and your sides as your lips collided in a heated make-out session.
It only took a few minutes until his hands discarded your shirt, his skin hot against your bare chest, when he kissed down your neck to leave love bites along the way. A raspy moan escaped your throat when his teeth tugged at one of your nipples before his tongue immediately lapped over it to soothe the sting. The mix of pain and gentle caress almost drove you insane. Shaky hands started pulling at his jet black strands when his lips left soothing kisses scattered across the valley of your chest. Lost in the feeling of his lips and tongue against your breast, you barely noticed how he picked you up to carry you to the bedroom, ever so gently setting you down on the mattress, where his warmth left your body for just a moment.
"One word and we stop," he whispered into your ear when he returned to his position on top of you again, dragging your favorite toy - a small magic wand - across the inside of your bare thigh, the lowest setting already letting your skin tingle deliciously, but you nodded. "Hmm, yes," you verbally confirmed when he removed the toy from your leg, an expectant look on his face. "That's my good girl. Using her words for me," he muttered against your skin and rewarded you by letting the toy glide over your already slick folds. Soft moans erupted almost instantly, the pleasure was near overwhelming.
His fingers soon joined the toy, the vibration taking your focus away as he dragged them between your folds without dipping them in, instead letting them glide lower between your cheeks. The lube was almost dripping off of them when he started massaging your puckered hole with his middle finger. Eyes full of insecurity shot up at him when you felt him slowly push inside, but not enough to slip past the tight ring of muscles yet.
Your hands started to claw at his arm, trying to stop him and he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss once again, the vibrations against your clit getting more intense.
"Color?" His voice was uncharacteristically soft and you struggled to answer him between moans "ye-yellow." The words eventually slipped out and he hummed in acknowledgment - You didn't say red, so it was okay to continue.
His lips returned to yours as the magic wand remained teasing your bundle of nerves until a gasp escaped your mouth. Toji couldn't hold back the smirk against your lips at how cute your reaction was, his finger slotted deeply inside your ass, unmoving.
Only when you started desperately grinding against the wand did you register his finger inside of you and a desperate "green" left your lips, almost in a scream. You were on the verge of an orgasm and all your previous little worries didn't exist. Your mind was feeling as light as a feather when he pushed a second finger in right before the vibration of the toy gave you that sweet release you were so desperately chasing after. Toji groaned when he felt you clench around him, so tight just with his fingers inside of you that it made his erection grow painful, but he had to wait. His fingers kept pumping into you, curling and scissoring them to stretch you further. The foreign feeling started to feel good and Toji was able to see the change in your eyes.
It was exactly how he planned this to go, making you feel so good and making you lose your mind with pleasure as he pushed your boundaries until you're begging him to fuck your little ass.
"Be my good girl and turn around," he mused and slowly pulled out of you, which made you whine. You felt so pathetic when that noise escaped your throat, but you did as told, wanting this high back you felt moments ago. The orgasm was more intense than usual.
"Atta girl," his voice was raspy as the need in him grew from seeing you in such a vulnerable position for him - laying on your stomach with your hips held high just for him.
Your slick folds were on full display for him as he let some more lube drip onto your puckered hole, chuckling when you flinched from the cool liquid. "Careful, it's cold," he teased, warning you far too late, but before you could react to his words, another toy pushed against your hole. Unsure where he even got it, you braced yourself and Toji held the magic wand against your wet cunt once more, trying to help you relax for him.
The plug slid in surprisingly easy and you looked over your shoulders at your lover with doe eyes, feeling so good but scared at the same time. The metal object made you feel full, stretching your insides while his thumb slid into your pussy to massage your g-spot until he had you right where he wanted to again. All the stimulation tightened the knot inside of you at record speed, threatening to snap the next time his thumb pushed against your sweet spot, but it never came. Instead, Toji removed his finger and started moving the anal plug, the buzzing of the toy against your clit finally taking you over the edge a second time.
Your muscles sucked the plug back in, clenching tightly around it, which made you feel so full already and it only made you crave more. The black-haired man knew exactly what he was doing, corrupting you, making you crave having your ass filled with his cock and it was working.
When the shocks of pleasure wore off, Toji continued playing with the plug inside of you, pulling and pushing - he wanted you to whine, to admit how good it felt to you. He broke you down slowly but surely and you enjoyed it. Your hands gripped the sheets tightly when you started pushing back into him, breathless moans falling from your lips and getting swallowed by the pillows beneath you.
“What was that?” He asked teasingly and at the same time, he pulled the little metal plug out of you.
“You want my fingers again?” His voice sounded menacing, having heard your plea for his fingers perfectly well.
“Fuck- Toji… Just finger me already,” you snapped embarrassed, wanting him to work you open so you could finally feel his cock inside of you.
You were always so drunk on his cock, craving it inside of you in one way or another and the thought of having him fill yet another hole of yours started to excite you rather than scare you. His chuckle sounded mean, but you didn't bother focusing on it when two of his thick fingers pushed into your ass once again, this time with ease.
“You take me so well, darling. Gonna make you my little anal princess, hm? Want me to fuck your ass so badly?” He started to mock you, his voice laced with amusement with every whine of pleasure you provided him with and you didn't need to answer him. The way you bit your lip absentmindedly at his words was enough for him to know you wanted this as badly as he did now.
Thoughtful as he was, Toji turned the little wand on again to help you relax because his fingers were nothing compared to the girth of his dick and it would hurt. Both his fingers remained inside of you as he used his other hand to slick up his cock with the lube, using a generous amount to make things easier for you.
“Ready to be my little princess?” He asked with a smirk as he pulled his fingers out painfully slow, the tip of his dick now kissing your puckered hole, and slowly he pushed in, never enough to slip even the tip inside of you. He wanted to hear you beg for him, beg him to fuck your sweet little ass. He needed you to beg him to ruin you completely, claim your body fully and never be satisfied with another man ever again.
The anticipation his endless teasing brought drove you insane, the vibration against your pussy wasn't strong enough to give you the pleasure you craved and you knew that you needed him inside of you to cum again, needed to have him ruin you to find pleasure.
"To-ji,” his name was cut in half by a whimper when just his tip slipped into your puckered hole, only to disappear again.
“Just fu- just fuck me already,” you almost screamed it, shame sitting deep inside of you at having to beg him to finally take you from behind, but he made you taste poison and you liked it.
“As you wish,” a wolfish grin spread over his lips and a single thrust was all it took for him to be settled inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your wet cunt in the process.
Your eyes opened wide at the intrusion, unsure if it hurt or felt good - you just felt full. Feeling you clench around him like a vice was almost painful to him, but he granted you time to get used to the feeling.
“Taking me so well. So good for me.” His words were soothing, kisses against your spine helped you relax further, but when he turned the wand higher again, your hips jerked up, letting you feel him so much deeper inside of you. A high-pitched moan left your lips, almost a yelp, but it was filled with a foreign sense of pleasure. Your walls stopped gripping Toji’s cock like a vice, giving him the opportunity to finally move inside of you. His thrusts were slow but deep, his hips rolling against yours to make you feel each thrust dragging along your walls. The overwhelming feeling of being so unusually full, paired with the strong vibration against your already overly sensitive bundle of nerves had you panting like a bitch in heat, your hips bucking into him and helplessly humping the wand.
“Ah, ah. You'll cum from my cock, princess,” Toji ordered and removed the toy from your pussy.
A loud whine of protest escaped your lips, but it turned into one of pleasure when he rolled his hips particularly hard, catching you off guard by how good it felt. You were so close, but it was never enough to take you over the edge. The feeling of Toji's cock in your ass was too foreign and intense to snap that knot inside of your stomach - or at least that's what you thought. Toji slumped over you, no longer able to hold up his weight entirely as he caged you in, his huge body forcing your hips down against the mattress so he had you in prone bone.
The simple change of position made you feel so small compared to your lover, his hot breaths and grunts driving you insane and before you knew it, you were clawing into the pillows, chanting his name like a lewd prayer as another orgasm washed over you. "Fuck! That's my good girl," Toji praised, his voice deep and strained from the way you clenched around his cock, so hard he could barely thrust into you anymore, but that's exactly what he liked. Your little ass was just so perfect for him and no one else ever made you feel this way. It gave him the biggest ego boost with the way you were singing so pretty for him.
Your ears were ringing from the intensity of your orgasm, barely able to hear the praise that fell from your lover's lips, only the strangled moan followed by harsh pants when he finally released inside of you. Unable to help it, you whined loudly. The feeling of his cum filling you up made you realize that it would be over soon and you didn't want this ecstatic feeling to end yet, not when you just started enjoying it. Your pathetic whine made Toji chuckle, his black hair tickling your shoulder as he shook his head.
"You're so damn greedy, you know that?" He asked amused and pulled your hips into him so he could slide the magic wand between your pussy and the mattress once again, the highest setting buzzing against your clit. "To-ji," you moaned his name, "too much." Your voice was hoarse, but he didn't listen. The feeling of your ass clenching tightly around his cock was drowning out your little sounds of protest. "Stop crying and fucking cum," he groaned into your ear, an order you knew you should follow. You could have told him "red," but you didn't, craving the feeling of yet another orgasm even if your overstimulated clit screamed for mercy.
When you finally reached your peak, Toji was hissing into your ear as you milked him dry, trying to get every drop of his seed into your greedy body. "You're doing so good for me. Took me so well." His voice was soft, uncharacteristically sweet, even when the wand slowly lost the intensity until he shut it off entirely. Your clit still twitching from the intense vibration it just felt and all you could do was nod. You were his good girl, his sweet little anal princess and he was so proud of you.
Carefully, Toji slipped out of you, his hands spreading your cheeks to see your hole gape from the previous intrusion and it was a sight he could certainly get used to. There was a grin on his face when he watched his cum run down to your still-glistening cunt, a finger following the trail of white liquid.
“I should make sure that your little pussy doesn't feel neglected, don't you think?" Toji mused out, a single finger pushing some of his seed into your entrance, but you shook your head. "Red." The word left your lips in a mumble and he immediately stopped teasing you.
"Let's take a bath then, or you'll regret it in the morning," he said matter-of-factly before scooping you up into his arms and throwing you over his shoulder, which never fails to make you laugh. It was such a silly thing to him, but you looked like you needed more gentle aftercare this time, so a bath and some cuddles after would do it.
"How're ya feelin'?" Toji's voice was gentle now as his arms wrapped around you and his head rested on top of yours, bodies surrounded by hot water.
"'m good. A bit sore, to be honest," you mumbled back to him, your head resting against his broad chest, adoring just how caring he can be if he wants to.
"You'll get used to it. The first always is worst, but you seemed to enjoy it regardless," he pointed out, a shit-eating grin spreading over his lips and you could hear it in his voice.
"Just shut up, Fushiguro." You laughed softly and bit his arm in a playful way. But he was right - you did enjoy it and perhaps you'll let him have both holes next time.
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rubra-wav · 4 months
Note
May I Request a part 2 to Dealbreaker!Reader (same characters) but it’s the characters reactions to the reader surprisingly breaking their deal? I loved what you wrote!
Angel, Husk and Alastor with a dealbreaker S/O pt. 2
[ Part 1 ] < > [ More lore on DBs ]
A/N Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it, I loved writing this and the last one. Dealbreaker lore brainrot fr.
With how dealbreaking usually goes, it's not instantly a happy ending, unfortunately. These are all pretty happy endings, though.
Fairly long reads for all of these, but it's worth it, I promise 🙏
!(MY REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN RN. THIS IS JUST LEFT OVER FROM WHEN THEY LAST WERE.)!
Cw: SFW, depictions of violence, mentions of murder, Husk and Angel's is romantic, Alastor's is platonic, gn reader, male reader in mind for Angel's (forgot to add this aaaages back omg)
**Alastor's is written under the assumption that the Lilith owning his soul theory is real + is making a great big assumptions about Lilith + the nature of her deal that will likely be disproven.
She's a great big mystery, I'm just heavily leaning into pure theory in that one.
Angel
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- When you break his contract, Angel is overwhelmed with a potent mixture of relief and gratitude.
- The path this far had been fairly easy as far as the process of actually breaking the contract goes.
- The chains on him were poorly crafted and the format was extremely simple with a lot of loopholes to bust the contract wide open.
- It was honestly much harder to fully knock Angel out of the all-encompassing fear-rooted belief that he was doing something incredibly wrong after years of Val's manipulation and control over every part of him.
- It didn't take long to make the counter-contract, just a few minutes referencing the draft as you quickly wrote everything down upon the page pressed against the filthy bench you were sitting at. Angel hovered over you anxiously wringing his hands as he watched you work.
- The lock on his prison cell was quickly broken, along with the actual collar around his neck.
- You cheered as you threw your arms around the disbelieving man next to you. Angel cracked a smile, giddy as he realised that you had done it.
- This peace was short-lived, however.
- You now had to deal with the consequences of actually breaking Angel's deal. Valentino does not take kindly to people taking his toys away from him, especially not one of his top money-makers and favourite souls.
- You had, of course, crafted the counter-contract that was now clutched in your palm in some random location far away from the hotel so Val wouldn't be knocking at the front door knowing it was done then and there.
- However, you two still needed to run.
- Hand in hand, you run away from the approaching sound of distant but loudly approaching cars with the sound of gunshots echoing, legs and lungs burning with exertion.
- As a contrast to your very evident worry, Angel is laughing joyously and more boisterously then he thinks he ever has as the feeling of the heavy sensation of the collar that has been weighing on him is lifts alongside the inability to speak his real name without choking on it.
- The feeling of his newfound freedom and adrenaline mixes in his body, making his blood sing out in his veins like a symphony. An indescribably rich sensation of being alive that he thought he'd never be able to feel again while sober.
- "So long, you overly tall rat bastard! I've found something that's better then anything you could ever fucking give me!" Angel yells out into the warm air of the night as he flips off the general direction of the sound of the gunshots, laughing all the way as you get to the getaway car.
- You're panting as you crank the car into gear, speeding away and putting the glowing counter-contract on the back seat.
- As the distant sounds of gunshots fades into the distance behind you, you turn to the passenger side of the car to make absolutely sure Angel is really okay as he calms down from the high of the chase.
- Your boyfriend is absolutely beaming next to you, glowing with a sense of natural light you'd never before seen in your time being together. It's a beautiful contrast to the artificial sense of life you are so used to seeing broadcast within the studio and his films.
- He looks so different, and not only due to the disguise he had decided upon to lay low until shit calmed down a bit.
- As you make it to your destination - a small house youd been allowed to stay at courtesy of Charlie - you put the car into park and sit there for a for a few seconds.
- "Holy shit. I did it. I actually freed you. And we're not dead." You said, stunned.
- Angel snickered, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning over to you to kiss you on the cheek. "Never doubted you for a second, baby."
- You laugh, relieved, turning to him and gently pull his face close to yours, kissing him deeply. You chuckle at the feeling of the giant smile on Angel's face.
- As you move to settle in to live in the small house for a couple of weeks, you regret turning on the television.
- Angel's face flashes across the screen with text quickly scrolling past a smiling but seemingly close to tweaking Vox on the screen, the man looking like he's about to absolutely lose his shit if one more mild inconvenience happens. The Video Star's eye twitches sightly as if hearing something irritating as he speaks.
- "There is a hefty reward for anyone who can find Angel Dust and the dealbreaker who has interfered with his contract. Any useful information will be welcome. To give us tips, go to the website listed below or call-" You switch the TV off, unplugging it as well just in case.
- If Vox got well and truly involved in this situation to attempt to placate Valentino as soon as possible, this would be even more difficult of a situation. You hadn't much considered the rest of the vees getting involved, assuming they would stsy in their own lanes while Valentino stopped being pissy.
- You shake your head, and move to go to the room where Angel is unpacking. The outside world could wait until later. All that shit could wait until later.
- Angel smiles at you as you walk into the room, such a lightness in it that makes your heart burn.
- You hug him tightly and then fall down on your side into the bed, both of you laughing joyously and filling the empty house with life.
- The road ahead would not be easy, but you were finally on the road to starting your life with him.
- Your life with him as Anothony, not Angel Dust.
Husk
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- The road to forming a counter-contract was hard as all hell.
- Alastor's deals are absolutely air tight, crafted with the uptmost skill and attention to detail, so you finding a vague clause to dig your claws into to get it rolling after weeks of arduously reviewing it again and again was a goddamn miracle.
- When he saw that you had made progress, he's shocked as can be. Has a 'well I'll be' moment as you point it out to him after another sleepless night as he wanders up to you.
- Feels bad for fully doubting you after that. He's still pessimistic about your chances of actually succeeding in the counter-contract, but the flame of hope inside of him sparks to embers as you manage to do what nobody has managed to even remotely succeed to do in centuries.
- When you make further progress, he becomes deeply afraid for your safety. If Alastor ever found out you'd been able to get this far, you'd be toast.
- Never in a million years would Alastor allow someone who's managed to undermine his skills to this degree to live. When you say that you've got it covered when he brings it up, he's incredibly skeptical and is even more concerned when you say you can't tell him 'just in case'.
- Is in utter disbelief when you insist you just stay in the hotel as you actually write the counter-contract to break the deal while Alastor is out doing some shenanigans.
- When you say that you don't, in fact, have a death wish, he's extremely stressed and sweating bullets as you begin to write what you'd been drafting for weeks.
- The lights flash and then go out as you're about halfway through writing the contract. Unnatural green light fills the room and Alastor casts a great big shadow on the wall as he materialises out of nowhere.
- Husk feels dread sink into every part of himself.
- The ground shakes as Alastor physically shows up, much larger then usual and snarling. "What do you think you're doing."
- His voice is dripping with malice and static which hurts your ears greatly, but the movement of your pen on the page doesn't stop even though you can feel your heart thudding in terror and your vision is becoming blurry.
- Husk feels nauseous as Alastor looks down at you, growing all the more aggressive the more he feels his hold on Husk slipping.
- Husk fights a panicked yell as Alastor's neck snaps to the side loudly, now looking directly at him with an absolutely vile grin on his face. He cannot make it in time as Alastor's hand moves to crush you, and he fears the absolute worst as you are no longer in his sights.
- His deep despair is interrupted however, as from underneath Alastor's palm great big rose briers grow from underneath and pry it backwards, revealing you still writing - albeit looking extremely stressed - and the figure of Rosie who looks rather angry at Al.
- Alastor's eyes widen in shock and disbelief that one of his oldest friends are currently blocking him from destroying the one trying to take his property.
- Husk hardly hears the back and forth and stalling that goes on between the two overlords as he's running to you to try and pull you the hell out of here.
- He stops in place as he feels it, and hears Alastor let out a terrifying frustrated growling noise. The green collar and chain around his throat appears, and then it breaks with a loud snapping sound. You've succeeded.
- You actually fucking did it.
- The next few moment are a blur as Husk is rendered motionless and speechless, eyes wide and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as if he's about to wake up from this moment.
- He slowly walks towards you, looking to the side blankly as Alastor shrinks back to his normal size and is escorted out of the hotel with a look of pure bewilderment on his face by a now smiling and laughing Rosie. The leader of the cannibals winks at you and gives you a thumbs up as she leaves.
- You turn to Husk and grin at him wearily, still sweating nervously with clear relief on your face. You literally could have just died.
- Husk sinks to his knees beside you from where you sit on the ground, having fallen from your chair as Alastor tried to crush you.
- Husk grips your face in his shaking hands as he looks up at you. He can now see that one of your eyes is black with a deal you've made yourself but for now he doesn't address it.
- "Thank you." His voice is hoarse, low. Tears stream down his face for the first time in a long long time.
- Your face crumples as you allow your brave face to fall to bits. Your heart is still racing and you are still getting over the fear you felt.
- Husk pulls your crying face to his, leaning his forehead against yours as he wraps his arms tightly around you. "Thank you so much." Husk says, closing his eyes and causing more tears to roll down his cheeks.
- "If you ever do something that fucking stupid again, I'll not be humouring you." He added after the wonderful moment stretched out for a couple of seconds.
- You laugh softly, and nuzzle into his cheek as you kiss it. "You're welcome, Husker my love."
- Husk hums in fake annoyance, but he cannot even hide how much lighter he feels.
- The bonds which had kept him trapped for decades had been broken down all at once, leaving him free.
- He had no idea what kind of deal you made with Rosie, but he sure hoped it kept Alastor the fuck away from you and him for the rest of your lives.
- And, for your sake, he desperately hopes it is not the type of deal you will regret making later.
Alastor
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- The path to dealbreaking Alastor's is bar fucking none with difficulty, mostly because he doesn't want your help.
- Hurts his his ego so much to see that even though his consistent efforts to tell you to get lost have failed. He's opted to scaring you off multiple times and yet you're still relentless.
- After yet another time of him growing into that massive form and snarling down at you, you snap.
- "Maybe I'm 'overestimating my abilities', but what if I'm not? What if a fresh pair of eyes are what you need rather than you just pissing off to your radio tower and staring at everything until you have a mental breakdown over it!" You yell at him weakly as he turns his back to leave. Blood is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and you're only just regaining your vision from the former static, which blacked it out.
- Alastor stops in his tracks, startled that you know about that too.
- "Maybe I don't have as much experience as you, but I have a different mind and way of looking at things! What if that's exactly why you can't break it? What if whoever it is knows how you think so they've designed this thing so you can't do this alone?"
- You can't see Alastor's face, but he's standing there still not saying anything. One of his ears is pointed backwards in your direction. He's actually listening.
- You gulp, and stand up shakily. "What if they knew that you would never seek assistance, so they've done things which won't be visible to you and only you. If you just give me a chance." You're no longer shouting, rather speaking in a tone you're trying to keep even despite how afraid you are.
- Alastor grits his teeth, ears twitching as he considers it. He's pissed off because you're actually making a good point.
- It goes against every instinct in his body, but suddenly, he's right in front of you, holding out his hand to you as he glares menacingly at you. "A week, and if you find nothing, you will never fucking approach this with me again, or share what you have seen and heard about my deal with anybody."
- You gulp audibly. It's a ridiculously slim deadline for this kind of business, but it's more than nothing. As you accept the deal, he utters a single word you're shocked to hear.
- "Lilith."
- Without any further words, he disappears, leaving a glowing copy of the contract at your feet.
- The week of reviewing the contract was utter fucking hell.
- it's not just that the contract was super air tight, it's just that it was so ridiculously complicated and hard to understand that you could hardly fucking comprehend what you were reading most of the time. It was utterly maddening.
- Your breakthrough, however, came not through solely just reading the words, but from actually talking to Lucifer himself about Lilith when he came to visit the hotel while Alastor left.
- As per the deal, you didn't share anything about the contract, but you did ask about her in private with him and he was actually surprisingly happy to discuss her.
- So that's, how on the last day of the deadline, you cracked the contract wide open with a counter-contract draft you had written in a few hours.
- Alastor almost screams out in pure unadulterated fury when he sees what you've written and hears the explanation behind it.
- Lilith wasn't some skilled dealmaker hellbent on controlling demons. She was a broken down dreamer who had no idea what she was actually doing in the contract, but being Lilith, her words held so much weight that they'd chained him despite that.
- It actually takes every bone in your body to not burst out laughing with how utterly humiliated he looks.
- His ears are pressed forward on his head, and he's making an odd high-pitched audio feedback kind of sound as his face is hidden in his hands.
- He'd been stressing over this thing for years as a skilled dealmaker looking at it, and yet that was exactly why he couldn't do it.
- Couldn't do what you did in a fucking week.
- "So, do you want me to undo this thing now or-?"
- You startle as suddenly he's in front of you, both hands on either one of your shoulders.
- you try so hard to not snicker as you see his expression finally, but fail. He's pressing his still ever-smiling mouth into a crooked line, eyes squeezed shut and brow furrowed. Dark flush covers his cheeks and neck.
- "Yes. Please." He says those words as if they are poison in his mouth. "I'm.. Sorry. That I underestimated you." Alastor opens his eyes to look at you as he begins to regain his composure a bit more, the hard part of this interaction being over with.
- Fortunately, and also infuriatingly, Alastor had not had his soul contract used once. Lilith simply had him in her back pocket and didn't lift a finger whenever she felt him try to break it again and again. It's like she didn't even give a fuck that she literally owned him.
- This fact burnt hot embarrassment and frustration into him as it destroyed his ego, but now it was a relief as she would most likely not try and come after him. Or you for that matter.
- His claws grip painfully into your shoulders as you fail to stop snickering loudly in disbelief that he actually apologised. Admitted losing essentially.
- "S-sorry! I just can't believe I'm seeing you like this." You apologised.
- Alastor gritted his teeth. "Don't get used to it." He growls before his mask slips right back on like it never happened. "I'm simply admitting my mistake in assuming you could not do this, darling! It turns out you truly can't teach an old dog new tricks. Or deer, in this case." He clears his throat, straightening up.
- You smile up at him, heavy bags under your eyes from where you've barely slept for the past week pouring over this.
- "If it makes you feel any better, it makes sense why you couldn't solve this thing. It's utter bullshit nonsense." You shake your head at the contract.
- The deal was undone embarrassingly quickly after that using the draft you had written. No pushback at all on it.
- Alastor feels his collar slacken and break to bits as you write the counter-contract and sighs with extreme relief as he watches the other contract disintegrate, feeling the power which had been stolen coming back as it turns to dust. It doesn't cure the utter humiliation that still sits heavy upon his shoulders however.
- After everything, he would threaten to kill you if you tell anyone about what went on or how he had fallen apart. Though, it would be a lie to say you two don't grow significantly closer.
- Alastor is still hesitant to fully let his guard down around you, however the massive wake that existed between you two even as fairly good friends has now significantly closed.
- He's still a lying, scheming asshole, but he'll be much more inclined to not be so much with you considering you've kept multiple giant blows to his ego fully secret.
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This was a lot longer than what I usually write for requests holy moly, but I absolutely loved writing these. I hope I fulfilled your vision anon 🙏
You get through Angel's and Husk's, which are really emotional and sweet, then you get to Alastor's 💀
Masterlist
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themotherofhorses · 1 year
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you can pretend it's not meant to be (but you can't stay away from me)
summary: to you, he is fictional. but to him, you are everything and more. he can't live without you. and, really, there is no use in trying to run away, he'll always find you.
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pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
warnings: explicit language. noncon to dubcon. abduction. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part. breeding kink. slight spitting kink. pregnancy.
note: hey this is me practicing writing smut because ive never ever done it before and i don't know jackshit like wtf is a dick hahaha im dreading posting this hahahasendhelpplshaha
masterlist | series masterlist
part two | part three | part four | part five
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How did you end up here?
That was all you could ask yourself, over and over again.
It had only been hours ago, maybe, that you were sitting at home, rewatching the first season of House of the Dragon for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Perhaps you dozed off on the couch too, but that was it. You have heard of shifting techniques before- ways to visit your favorite fictional worlds- but you never sought to try them out yourself.
College left you too busy with assignments and textbook readings, as well as the constant and unwavering pressure to maintain both your scholarships and high GPA.
Ever the dutiful and driven daughter, hungry for academic validation and success.
Oh, fuck, your scholarships!
Your GPA!
All those assignments and discussions and exams!
And what about your family? Your mother and father? And your best friend?
Aemond Targaryen seems not to understand your words, and why you tell, beg, and plead for him to let you go. “Please, I need to go home,” you cry loudly, while yanking at the thick knots that bound you to his bedframe, “please! My family, my friends. They will be worrying when they don’t hear from me, and all my hard work and accomplishments, it will be for nothing! Please, I beg you, let me go home.”
But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead and says, “Oh, my sweet girl, I’m your family now. Or what is of it.” His lips feel so soft and wonderful, and how desperately you wish to enjoy the feeling. But not like this. You cannot think properly nor muster any sort of response, too distracted and stressed and focused on calming your breathing.
“Although,” he then adds with a smirk, “it truly is not considered a family until you have a babe of your own…or two.”
At his words, you tremble and whimper and try your best to break free, though it is all in stupid and foolish vain. There is no going anywhere, the knots are too tight and Aemond can easily overpower you. All you can do is stare up at the man you once considered your favorite character in the series, ever since the eighth episode aired and he stole your heart and soul and burrowed himself deep within your most inner thoughts and fixation.
“Do not worry,” he says, and you can see a twinkle in the violet of his eye. He rests a hand on your collarbone, gently drawing little shapes across the skin. “Good things will come out of this night, my love, I promise you that.”
Look on the bright side, you tell yourself, in some dumb attempt to steel your nerves, better Aemond Targaryen to lose your virginity to.
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“You need to be quieter, my darling-” Aemond murmurs close to your ear “-we do not need curious ears listening in, do we?” He has you riding him, both hands clutching your hips as you do your best to bounce on his cock and match his thrusts. You’re sloppy and inexperienced, and a bit confused on what exactly to do, but it is so endearing that his lips curl into a grin.
Oh, you were made for me, he thinks, watching the way your glazed-over eyes try to hold his gaze. He will have you believe that by the end of the night, dawning if necessary.
There is much rush now that he found you, now that he has the chance to claim you.
You still moan, loud and high-pitched, and he slaps a hand flat over your mouth to shut you up. It makes your pretty and teary eyes widen more as you grab at his wrist, holding onto it while he tuts. “I’ll move my hand when you learn to listen to your husband and stay quiet. No one is allowed to hear my wife in her pleasure. No one but I.” At that, you bat your eyelashes at him, breasts heaving as he leans you down, so close your lips nearly touch, and Aemond can feel your heavy pants against his mouth.
“They will take you away from me, and ship you far across the world where I can’t find you,” he hisses, pinching your swollen nipple between his fingers, “I can’t have that. No, no, do you hear me? I will not survive being torn from you.”
The mere thought of losing you, either at the hands of his mother and grandsire or you returning to your homeland, fills him with sheer dread.
He does not know how to tell you that you are the girl of his dreams, everything he has desired and more. He has seen you in his nighttime slumbers and in the gleam of the summer sunlight and up among the black midnight stars.
But the words fall apart on his tongue, and all he can do is lay beneath you and marvel at your beauty: cheekbones and pretty puffy lips and the curve of your nose, the way your eyebrows furrow in pure pleasure, and how you look utterly delicious and ruined.
“You were made for me,” he breathes in awe, palming at both your breasts. You have to believe him, this sweet and pretty girl of his, how could you not? The gods above created you for him, he will make you see it. “You are taking me so fucking well,” and Aemond flattens a palm against your belly, where he can feel the slight bulge of his cock. “Look at you, you’re my dream come true.” He thrusts his hips up, fucking into you harder and deeper. It makes you squeal and go cross-eyed.
“Is this too much? I know you can handle it, my darling. My love, my sweet girl,” he purrs.
Aemond swipes at the drool pooling at your lips before stuffing two fingers in. “Fuck,” he whines, breathing hard, slipping his other hand in between your thighs, and with his thumb, rubbing at your clit. Your face twists in a gasp as you tremble, your entire body tightening until you cream over his cock, your loud moan muffled by the fingers in your mouth.
“Good girl,” he hums, slowing his thrusts, “Such a good fucking girl. Look at that, did that feel good, my love?” he asks you.
You nod, rocking your hips back and forth. Your thighs shaking and your face scrunching in complete bliss as you start again, taking his cock deep in your stomach with tiny bounces. “Please- please- please-” you babble against his palm. “I-I want- I need-”
“Want what, my sweet girl? Need what, my darling wife?”
You don’t answer, too overtaken by the pleasure. Aemond chuckles and leans upwards, to bury his face between your breasts. You are absolutely stunning, gorgeous, a living goddess; how he went this long without you is baffling. “You wish for my seed. Is that what you want?” he mutters against your nipple, “of course you do, this belly is too empty, isn’t it? My son should be sleeping inside.” His fingers pinch your clit, and you gasp again. “You’ll be the prettiest mother. You were made to carry my children. You were made for me,” and he pulls your face back to his, with a rough grip on your chin.
“Tell me,” he demands through a pant, “tell me how fucking badly you need my seed. Tell me…tell me right now.”
“I- I need it-“ you choke out, but then you shake your head. “No- No I can’t! I- I need to go- go home!”
Aemond laughs, so hard he flings his head back. The sight takes you by surprise before he shoves you off, causing you to land next to him on the bed. You stare up at him, wide eyed and puzzled and swollen and covered in countless bites and bruises. In one swing, he forces your face into the pillow as he mounts you from behind, fucking you hard. His fingers return to your clit, squeezing and tweaking and not caring one bit about your muffled yelps and whines
“You’ll learn, my sweet girl, but perhaps not tonight. I am your home now, do you understand? I’m your family, your husband, and the father to your children.”
He grabs a fistful of damp hair and yanks your face back, never once slowing his thrusts. Your mouth is open with many moans spilling out, eyes clouded with tears, and cheeks flushed. With his lips next to your ear, he whispers, “You are going nowhere.” Then propping himself on one arm, he trails small kisses up your back to your shoulder blade until his mouth slams down on yours in a heavy and wet kiss.
And when he pulls away, his fingertips squeeze your cheeks together as he demands for you to open your mouth. "You are mine," he grunts, "you belong to me," before spitting into it. "Good, now swallow."
And when you do, he smiles.
"There, see?" he coos, leaning to kiss your forehead as he feels you tighten around his cock. He was going to seed you again, deep inside your womb. Come the morning, he knows his son will be in there, and he can hardly wait.
"My wife, my darling girl, the only woman deserving of me and all of me. Only me." He watches you sob at that, pink lips pressing in a tight line as fat tears streak down both cheeks. "Oh, do not worry, my love. You're too lovely to be crying," and he uses his thumb to brush away the tears, "I'm here to give you the life you deserve," he vows, so lovingly, "you will want for nothing."
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With a loud huff, you plop yourself on the couch.
The saying “home sweet home” never felt more sincere until now. It took much time and planning and effort and sneaking around on your part, but you managed to find a way to escape from Aemond Targaryen, though not without consequences. Your belly was growing only larger with every new moon, and your babe was starting to shift around more. At most times, you could feel the fluttering sensation across the bottom of your tummy, and every now and then, the tiniest kick.
It was adorable, you admitted, and you tried your best to find enjoyment throughout the pregnancy, sometimes wondering at night about who your child would resemble.
Would their looks favor yours? Or would they favor their father, with his Valyrian features- that iconic silver hair and violet eyes. The latter worried you the most. How could you even begin to explain why your child looked as if they belonged in the Game of Thrones series, specifically in House Targaryen?
Speaking of such, you had not touched House of the Dragon since you arrived back home all those months ago, too unwilling to turn on the tv and see the man whose child you were mysteriously carrying in your womb. It just did not make any sense, it felt more like a weird dream than reality.
But you were dying of boredom. The dragonling (you had taken to nicknaming the baby that, it sounded both cute and appropriate) was stealing away most of your time and energy, and your mother refused to allow you to do anything that could cause harm or add more unnecessary stress.
So you bit your tongue and swallowed down your grumbles and settled comfortably on the couch before opening Fire and Blood.
“Fucking crazy to think that this is a book of your family’s history,” you mumbled to your baby bump, “fictional my ass.”
So you read, to yourself and to your babe. Read about Aegon’s Conquest and the Year of the Three Brides and King Jaehaerys and his Alysanne and their triumphs and tragedies and legacy, and you read until you reached The Dying of the Dragons, the Blacks and the Greens, where you just sighed.
“And when Alicent sent for her second son to fly to Storm’s End, with the purpose of securing Borros Baratheon’s loyalty to Aegon II by winning the hand of one of his daughters, the Four Storms, the truth was finally known. One-eyed Prince Aemond, twenty and one, had taken a wife of his own in secret, a young maiden not of Westeros (according to Mushroom). Yet Prince Aemond lost her a month into their marriage, although by that time he had become so besotted with his bride, to such an extent that he could not bear the thought of living without her or taking another woman as his new wife.
With Prince Aemond refusing his mother’s orders, Queen Alicent had little choice but to send her youngest, Prince Daeron, in his place to Storm’s End. And by the seventh month, Prince Daeron wedded Floris Baratheon, and Prince Aemond One-Eye had reunited with his wife, who was heavy with child by the time he found her.”
You suddenly glance up from the book pages, feeling your heart hammering so hard in your chest that it seems at the end of your throat. On the wall, to your right, hung the calendar which you had taken to use as a means of tracking your pregnancy.
In two weeks, you’ll be at your seventh-month mark.
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the-writer-arrived · 5 months
Text
Disciplinary Method
Synopsis: you cannot stand veritas ratio, just the sight of him (or his stupid statues) makes your blood boil and causes you to argue with him everytime. sick of your attitude towards him, dr ratio believes you deserve to be taught some discipline.
Character: dr ratio.
Warnings: afab!gn!reader; explicit smut; reader is a member of the intelligentsia guild; kind of brat taming; semi-public sex (you two fuck in an empty classroom); fingering; use of a bullet vibrator; rivals to lovers but not really?? more like fuck buddies? rivals that fuck each other?
A/N: don't look at me, i lost the battle against my demons and was forced to write this!!!
<<This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.>>
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The Intelligentsia Guild is a place that welcomes people from all walks of life that have the desire to learn. You are fortunate enough to be one of their scholars and you love teaching, love seeing the spark of passion for knowledge in your students' eyes.
But it seems like not everyone in the Guild thinks the same as you.
"Fail. Get out of my sight!"
Those words are frequently said by Veritas Ratio, or Dr Ratio, your insufferable colleague.
The first time you met, he barely spared a glance at your direction and complained about the arrival of another 'simpleton'. Suffice to say that that was a declaration of war.
From that day onwards, whenever you two would cross paths in the hallways, one would throw a snarky comment which would prompt a jab from the other until it becomes a full out argument (you'd call it 'academic debate' but whatever).
What other people don't know is that most of those arguments between you two end up in a way that was quite unprofessional...
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"I can barely hear you. 0 points."
"Stop grading me, I'm not one of your stude- fuck!"
The harsh pull of your poor nipple interrupts your complaint.
You don't know how long you've been in this empty classroom, your pants and underwear hanging on your ankle while Veritas keeps you on his lap, your legs spread open as he tortures your chest from under your shirt with one hand and keeps teasing your folds with the other.
"You kept running that annoying mouth of yours the whole day to get on my nerves, but now you want to keep quiet?"
He makes another attempt to make you moan louder, this time pinching your sensitive clit, and he would have succeeded, if you hadn't bitten down your lip to stop the sound from escaping. The scholar clicks his tongue in annoyance at your stubborness.
"If that's how you want to play, be my guest. Let's see how far you can hold on with this."
Veritas' hand leaves your chest to grab something that makes your eyes go wide: a small, silver bullet vibrator.
"W-When did you get that? And why do you have it with you?!"
"Recently. I thought it would be a useful tool to teach a certain brat a lesson, but who knew the opportunity would present itself so soon." He presses down the button and the bullet starts to vibrate with a low hum.
He starts dragging it from your neck, the cool object feeling nice on your heated skin. Then, he goes to your inner thighs, tracing it ever so close to your needy pussy, but never touching it like you wanted.
"Will you stop playing around alre--Ah!"
Your words are once again interrupted, this time by your own gasp of surprise and the way your whole body shivered when the vibrator is suddenly on your clit. However, as quickly as it came, the stimulation is taken away a second later.
The anticipation and the desire to be touched properly are getting on your nerves, so you grab the hand holding the wretched toy to push it to where it should be, but the man simply turns it off.
"You're not getting what you want so easily. You either do as I say and be as loud as I want or you go back to teaching your next class unsatisfied. Surely even an idiot like you know what choice to make here?"
The look on his eyes tells you he's not bluffing. You've been a fool to doubt him once before and paid the price. Between letting the quality of your teaching drop because of sexual frustration and having your pride get hurt by obeying Veritas' words like some obedient dog, of course you'll choose the latter.
"...Fine."
"Good, it seems like you do have a working brain after all."
The insufferable man smirks, satisfied with your decision. He turns the toy back on and rubs languid circles around your clit, your essence helping the movements feel smoother. You grasp onto your shirt and his arm, doing your best to not muffle your shy sounds and lose this feeling.
"Better, but still not good enough."
"Ngh just... Just shut up, ah..."
Since you've been edged and teased for so long, it doesn't take long for your gasps and whines to become louder. You get closer to the edge, but there's still something missing.
"M-More... Need more..."
Dr Ratio doesn't miss your hole clenching pathetically over the tip of his fingers, your body showing what you truly desire. The asshole chuckles, reveling in the sight of you so pliable and obedient in his arms like that. If you didn't constantly get on his nerves, he'd consider you almost cute.
It's almost embarrassing how your cunt basically engulfs his two fingers with ease, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulder as you moan with abandon. You don't even care about your surroundings anymore, the intoxicating sensation of his long fingers pumping in and out of your drooling hole paired with the small vibrator rubbing on your clit making your brain melt.
You singing so beautifully right into Veritas' ear and the hypnotizing sight of your pussy leaking on his knuckles are both things he wants to engrave in his memories, to be able to recall them time and time again until the next time he has to discipline you.
"Please, please I want cum, please let me cum!"
Your sweet pleas go straight to his twitching dick and he hides his blushing cheeks on the crook of your neck, his voice coming out as a groan.
"Very well, you earned it. Come for me now."
Like an automatic response to his permission, your body convulses in his hold, tears running down the sides of your face and mouth hanged open with a hoarse chant of his name.
Veritas turns off the toy and slowly retreats his fingers, your legs still shaking a bit.
"See? That wasn't very hard, was it? If you had behaved yourself from the start, you would have had this much earlier."
"Oh fuck off... You made me cum using a vibrator, that's nothing to be cocky of. I do that all the time."
"And you call my name as well when you're alone?"
You blame your lack of a comeback at your foggy brain, choosing to whack his stupid face with the back of your hand.
Suddenly, you both hear a melody coming from below you. It's your phone, which had fallen out of your pants' pocket, the screen showing the alarm you set up: 10 minutes until your next class, which is on the opposite side of where you are.
"Oh shit, I'm going to be late- woah!"
If it weren't for Veritas holding you by the waist, you'd surely fall down, betrayed by your own weak legs. You've never climaxed so hard like you just did, but you'll never admit that to him, his ego is already too big without that knowledge.
After making sure you're stable enough to stand on your own, the scholar lets go of your waist and watches you quickly dress up and fix your appearance.
His eyes rest on your neck, wondering how would you react if he to left a mark there, in a place for everyone to see... But he knows he shouldn't indulge in such fantasies, that would cross the boundaries of your... dynamic and he'd hate to cause you this kind of distress.
Dr Ratio is brought back from his thoughts when you go to the door of the classroom and point an accusatory finger at him.
"This is the last time we're doing this, you hear me?!"
You leave before he could respond, but he just chuckles. You always say that after you two get frisky and it has never held any meaning, considering that it's never ended up being the last time for real. He secretly hopes it continues that way.
Now, he needs to deal with his own 'little' problem before he can leave and act as if nothing scandalous happened in this empty classroom...
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thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3
heart divider made by @/cafekitsune
red dr ratio banner (smut) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)
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bandgie · 7 months
Note
Hi! I ABSOLUTELY LOVED your Beast of a Man tarzan!smut. Seriously it was so engaging and you wrote him so well (HES SO HOT AGHH). He's such a hot character idk why others don't write about him, I'm starved for Tarzan fics...
Could you please make a part 2 to the smut? You have such a great/smutty idea going I would love to see you continue it!!
It would mean everything to me!
( ^◡^)
a/n: hi yes thank you so much and ofc! it's been so long since I've written smut on Tarzan so please bear with me! (fic anon is referring to here)
synopsis: You have successfully brought back the ape-man for research. Despite behaving like an animal, he's a lot more human in more ways than you originally thought.
warnings: MDNI 18+, recording during sex, oral (m!), 69ing, semi-public oral sex, cumming in mouth (m!&f!), rough throat fucking (f!rec), cum eating (m!&f!)
2.8k words
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"Who the fuck is this?!"
Your colleagues screamed and ran upon seeing who, more like what, you brought back to camp. They hopped up on tables and held up papers as weapons. They eyed you both wearily, on the verge of tears as you stood just a few feet away.
"I think that's a bit extreme," you sigh. 
The ape-man was beside you, clinging onto your leg like a child would do with a mother. He, too, was very wary around these strangers. You could hear him grunting and pulling at you as if keeping you from getting too close. 
Cute yes, but this would mean it would take a lot of work to build trust in the entire group.
Slowly, the fellow researchers began to try and communicate with the man. Talking slowly and softly, just like you showed them to. All of you agreed that this being could be the missing link, the answer to the question anthropologists have tried to find for decades.
It took over a month for everyone to be comfortable around one another, but of course, another issue was raised. 
"So does he just not have a name?" Professor Porter asked. 
As of now, you all were just calling him 'the ape-man' or 'hey you' to get his attention. It never crossed your mind to give him an actual name. 
"We're not gonna name that beast," Clayton butted his way into the conversation. Clayton, as big and strong as he was, seems the most afraid of your new friend. He's hostile, rude, and arrogant. Even if the ape-man cannot understand the words thrown at him, he can feel them.
The best thing to do in these situations was to ignore Clayton, he just loves the sound of his own voice. 
"No," you turn your attention back to the professor. "Not that I know of at least. Should we come up with one?"
"Oh great," there's heavy sarcasm laced in Clayton's voice. "Here you are naming a dog you're not even gonna keep."
"With no due respect Clayton, please shut the fuck up," Terk, the youngest of you, speaks. Terk is small for his age, but he has built. A hairy man who's lively, talkative, and one of the natives that live here. He and the ape-man get along well, a little too well sometimes.
Clayton flips Terk the bird.
"A name for him would be nice, yes." The professor looks as though he's sweating from the tense atmosphere. "Do come up with one dear, I think the missing link would rather you do it."
It's no secret that the ape-man prefers you over the other researchers. He's constantly at your hip, following you like you have an invisible leash on him. Your colleagues, however, don't know how close you two actually are. 
The conversation stays in your head for the rest of the day. A name. A name. Something everyone has yet is unbelievably difficult to come up with. Hundreds of possibilities run through your mind as you carry out your daily tasks. Even the ape-man, who's used to you ruffling his hair, grows confused about your behavior.
Nightfall comes with everyone in their tents and you still haven't come up with a name. 
With a groan, you turn on your side to see the very person who's making you struggle already looking at you. His eyes are dark, but the candle in your tent lights up his features just enough. You reach out and brush a lock of hair out of his face, watching how he moves to try and get you to touch his skin.
You settle with resting the palm of your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb over it. 
"A name," you tsk. You narrow your eyes and let your gaze travel over his body. He needs to look like his name, that's a must. "Hey, do you know what a name is?"
He doesn't answer. 
"Something to call you. That's a name. Do you have one?"
He stares at you.
Well, this is going to be harder than you thought. 
Pursing your lips, you say the first name that comes to mind, "Edward?"
He reacts to that. His calm expression turns into a scowl, bushy eyebrows coming together. You quietly laugh and shake your head, "Not that one okay."
"Tony?"
He frowns.
"Taren?"
He pouts.
"Okay, okay. I think I got it...Garrett."
The ape-man groans, mimicking the behavior he's seen you do hundreds of times. It shocks you to see him act so human, so you. It's equally adorable as it is terrifying. 
He's gotten closer to you, a breath away. The proximity used to freak you out, but you've learned it’s how he shows his affection. His trust. 
The ape-man is waiting for you to say a word he likes, a sound that comes off your tongue magically. Judging from your facial expression and earlier absent behavior, this is an important task for you.
You want the name to be strong, versatile, and not easily replaceable. The being you've found is one-of-a-kind, it's only fair his name is as well. You play with a few letters in your head, bouncing them in your mind until you think of one that suits him.
"What about Tarzan then? Do you like that one?"
His pupils dilate, watching your beautiful lips pronounce the word. His word. 
"Yes."
You gasp, sitting up abruptly. Your sudden movements make him panic as he sits up with you. He scans the tent to find an intruder while you sit there stunned. 
He spoke. The ape-man no! Tarzan just spoke to you. He understood language and used it, even if it was just a mere word. A one-syllable answer that has shaken you to your core. 
"Oh my god. You just, Tarzan you just spoke. Holy shit, say it again. I need to capture this on video." You ruffle through your bag looking for your camera. 
Tarzan stops searching the tent and looks back at you looking as confused as ever. Like he didn't just display human speech in a mere month.
Quickly, you pull out the camera and hit record, aiming the lens at Tarzan's hard, yet beautiful features. 
"Repeat what you just said," you look at him through the monitor. Instead of complying, Tarzan stares blankly into the lens. "Do you like the name Tarzan?" You press.
No answer, his eyes flick from the red light to your eyes. 
"Come on! Just tell me whether or not you like the name." You're starting to grow impatient. At this point, you're convinced he's just being an ass.
Finally, he adjusts his seating position. Tarzan glances down at his crotch then back up to you, then back to his crotch. You follow his gaze, trying to understand what he's trying to say. Then it clicks. 
Compensation. If you want him to do you a favor, you have to do him one as well. 
"Are you being serious?" You sigh at him. Tarzan gives a faint nod to you. Even if he can't do so, you swear you see him smirk. Asshole. Setting the camera down, you angle it towards the two of you. Might as well have fun with it.
You crawl your way towards him, parting his thighs slightly before giving him a playful glare, "You're such a man sometimes."
Unlike before, Tarzan wears cargo shorts rather than a mere piece of clothes from last time. Professor Porter made it clear that if he was to hang amongst you all, clothes were necessary. 
They suited him nicely, even now. The way the material hugs his toned thighs, how his cock bulges through the shorts even when he isn’t hard. You couldn't help but run your hands along his muscular legs, finding his crotch.
He groaned as you palmed him, straining to not thrust his hips up. Tarzan learned to be patient with you, especially in the presence of others. Most animals didn't care whether they mated alone or in their pack. Even if Tarzan was raised by those animals, the thought of others hearing the sounds you make for him is repulsive. 
Instead, he has to settle for brushing your hair from your face as you undo his buttons. Delicate fingers unzipping the seam until his half-hard cock sprouts in your face. 
It doesn't matter how many times you've seen his dick, it makes your pussy quiver every time. All you can think about is how perfectly it stretches you, how the tip slides against your cunt deliciously. Your mouth salivates at the memory, and you let your spit drool off your tongue to land on his cock.
Tarzan loves the sigh. A pink tongue just hovering over his length. He also remembers the feeling of your hot mouth on him. The way your lips slowly come closer to the crown of his head, how your breath wafts over him. It feels euphoric when you finally make contact with him, mouth enclosing his flushed head.
It's so warm in your mouth, smooth as you lightly suck on him. The hand on your head slightly grips your hair, a sign that he likes the slow pace you've set. You hum around his cock, taking him a little deeper as you widen your jaw.
One of your hands makes way to grip the base, pulling the skin upwards in a stroking motion. 
This makes his hips jerk, gagging you for just a split second. Your wide eyes look up at him, small tears peeking at the corners. Tarzan gives an apologetic look, but the sight of your teary eyes and pretty lips around his cock makes him fuck up toward you again.
You pull away from him, earning a whine as Tarzan throws his head back dramatically. 
Maybe he thinks you're going to stop as punishment, but it's quite the opposite. Your cunt is sopping from tasting him, even if it was for a brief moment. Even if you have a task at hand, and your camera is still recording for 'research,' you have your own needs to take care of. 
Tarzan is none the wiser as you put a hand on his bare chest and lay him down. He eyes you curiously but lets you push him all the way down before hopping on top. His eyes widen as he's faced with your clothed cunt. Underwear the same color as your tongue that holds the strongest smell of you.
He doesn't need any directions as he dives his nose into you. Tarzan is obsessed with your natural smell. His nose immediately grows damp from your wetness, his tongue poking out to lick the juices that leak out.
Softly moaning, you take a hold of his cock once more. You pump it a few times before taking it into your mouth. It's surprising to see that he's not humping in your mouth like normal, but he's so distracted with your pussy that he can't seem to bother noticing his own pleasure.
It's hard to focus on his hard length as his teeth tear off your panties. You gasp when you hear the fabric split, but it turns into a whine when his tongue finally makes contact with your bare cunt. 
Tarzan has to grip your hips to keep you still. As much as he would love for you to grind on his face, he needs to have his meal first. His tongue runs over your folds, finding that little bud you love so much to be touched. 
He sucks on it and pulls, stretching your clit. Your legs shake and you have to pull away from his cock to catch your breath. Lazy hands stroke his hard-on as you look back. You clench at the sight of his unruly hair peeking above your ass, the sounds his mouth makes as he laps at you.
Turning back to your literal task at hand, you find the energy to take his cock once more. You unhinge your jaw and exhale, taking Tarzan deeper and deeper until your eyes roll back. You hollow your cheeks and suck, moving your head back up until just the tip remains in your mouth, and go all the way back down.
Now Tarzan can feel the bliss of your mouth on him. He moans into your pussy and slightly jerks his hips up, making you gag around him once more. 
Feeling you work so hard makes him want to reciprocate. He shakes his head left and right to try and bury himself deeper. He uses his grip to force you further onto his face. Tarzan's tongue finds the squeezing entrance that he's breached so many times. He digs his tongue into you, finally getting a taste of you from the source. 
He's guiding your hips so you could drag your pussy against him how you like. Tarzan can feel your hips trying to pull away from him as the feeling of his tongue has gotten too much. And it has.
You're trying to distract yourself by deepthroating him, but it's no use. All you can feel is his experienced mouth, how he remembers every detail he knows you like. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and how it builds in your stomach rapidly. 
Tarzan feels your legs shake. Your thighs trembling and giving out, full lower body weight on his face. He can taste how the wetness has changed, thicker and tart. Tarzan knows this taste like the back of his hand. You're going to cum, give him that white cream he loves licking out of you.
You've completely stopped paying attention to his dick. A part of you should feel bad for neglecting him, but you can't seem to care as Tarzan's tongue fucks you. Instead, you find yourself humping his face, his mouth following as you approach your high.
You squeal as you come, clamping a hand over your mouth as you finish. Warm gushes out of you, body quivering as the eager man under you happily drinks it all. Tarzan gulps and slurps until he's beginning dripping from the corners of his mouth. 
He takes and takes until you're the one having to tell him no more, that you can't handle another orgasm. 
Tarzan hears the desperation in your voice, the way you plead. It takes strength for him to pull away from your pussy, a soft growl emitting from his chest. 
Then his thighs wrap around your head, securing you in front of his cock. You have no time to question him as you involuntarily take his cock into your mouth.
There's so much pre-cum dripping from the slit that all you can taste is its saltiness. He's throbbing, fucking his hips into your mouth as he holds you still with his legs. 
All you can do is take it. Lips wrapping around his girth as he desperately slides his dick in and out. You gag and silently plead for Tarzan to be gentler, but he's having none of it. Your hands warp around his thighs to steady yourself, your head bobbing uncontrollably to match his movements.
Tarzan twitches in your mouth once, stilling his hips deep into your throat. Tears immediately prick your eyes and fall down your face, and you swear your vision goes black for a fraction of a second before he pulls out. You get the chance to gasp for air as he lines up his cock to your lips again and shoves it back in.
You think you might pass out. You're at the mercy of Tarzan, and he's still unable to see how much stronger he is than the average man. Your mouth is nothing but a fleshlight to him as he makes you choke around him. It makes you feel like a toy, a warm hole for him to fuck his seed into.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
The familiar twitch in his cock occurs again. Once, twice, then three times before he unloads in your mouth. Hot spurts of his cum find themselves in your throat, forcing you to gulp it down. 
Tarzan's hips slow, letting his cock drag against your lips before he finally pulls out. You cough and pant as his orgasm drips from your tongue. 
His thighs release you and you promptly plop down on them. You feel his hands rub soothingly over the curve of your ass, up and down your thighs. And an extra apology, Tarzan presses a kiss to your throbbing pussy. You chuckle and kiss his thigh back before sitting up, hoping off his face. 
You have to crawl to grab your camera, breathing a sigh of relief to see the red light still shining. You aim the lens at his face as he too sits up. You can see the arousal on his face from eating you out, his swollen lips, and messy hair.
"So," you start. "Tell me, Tarzan, did you like that?"
Tarzan's lips quirk into what you think is a smile before he looks at you directly through the camera. 
"Yes."
a/n: holy fuck I dont think y'all know how hard this was. I kinda went all out for the first one so the second one was hard as hell to match lmaooo. I physically and mentally can't do a third installment. this is the final one sowwy also I added some characters from the film! hopefully you caught that, I made Terk human, Tarzan needed a friend even if it's a fanfic
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starry-eyes-love · 2 months
Text
Never Letting You Go
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Masterlist
Pairing | Agent Javier Pena x Agent F!Reader
Summary | What starts out as a shitty Valentine’s Day turns into everything that you’ve ever wanted.  Javi treats you the way you need, by never letting you go.
A/N: First time writing for Javier's character, forgot this was in the vault. Enjoy
(As a reminder I'm no longer doing tag lists, make sure to turn on notifications on my page for when I post).
Warnings | 18+, Minors DNI, Smut
Language, angst, mentions of prostitution and Agent work, mentions of the cartel, mentions of cheating (from your previous relationship), grinding, mentions of penetrative sex, soft fluffy moments.   
Word Count: 5.5K
“Fuck baby,” he said, grinding against your ass with a little bit more force. “Do you feel that?  See, that’s what you fucking do to me woman.” Javi was now rocking harder into you, giving you slow deep thrusts. You could feel his hard outline in his pants as he was seated firmly against you. “This is what you’ve always done to me. I don’t hate you, fuck baby, I like you. I want you. So if you’ll shut up long enough, then maybe you’ll hear me say it.”
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Today was Valentine's Day, and usually this was something that didn’t concern Javier Peña. He was a DEA agent that was in the middle of trying to bring down drug dealers and drug lords, he didn’t have time to be concerned about feelings or emotions on a specific day on the calendar.  But yet here he was, in the files room pacing back and forth, trying to calm his nerves.  Javier was never nervous when it came to the opposite sex. He usually was always so calm, cool, and collected when handling them.  Well, except for today that is, and especially when dealing with you. Somehow you had gotten under his skin just enough that now he was pacing back and forth, mind racing of what to do if you didn't like the gift that he just left you on your desk. He was so lost in his own head that he didn’t hear the door open and Steve Murphy step in.  
“Javi, what the hell are you-” Steve said, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Javi pacing back and forth, running his hand down his face.
“She ain’t gonna like the gift. Why did you say it was from you and not a secret admirer? Jesus. Soy un idiota (I’m such an idiot).” Javi mumbled to himself.
“You got a lady a Valentine’s gift there Peña?” Murphy said, slamming the files on the desk and causing Javi to jump.  Javi just stood there, not answering his friend and fellow DEA agent’s question.  Steve, seeing how nervous Javi was, continued to tease him slightly. “Who’s the lucky girl, Peña?”
Before he could answer, they both heard you marching down the hall, yelling, “Peña, I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you, you arrogant bastard.” 
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About a year ago you were transferred to Columbia in an attempt to assist in the capture of Pablo Escobar. At first, you were excited about serving your country and bringing the bad guys to justice. That was before meeting your two male DEA partner’s, however.  The first time you met Steve Murphy and Javier Peña it was love at first insult. You were the head female DEA agent hired to work alongside them in helping bring down the Medellín Cartel, and subsequently Pablo Escobar.  However, your transfer to Columbia somehow pissed both of them off.  
Since you had arrived, all those two idiots did was piss you off one way or another.  They were the biggest source of your headaches and irritations to date, and one of the biggest reasons why you hated your current job. They wouldn’t listen to you, and they continuously left you out of the loop on information. To make matters worse, when they got bored you were the target of their practical jokes, like today.
Today was Valentine’s Day, and one day on the calendar that you wished you could just completely remove. You hated Valentine’s Day with a passion, ever since you found your ex-fiance balls deep in your sister on Valentine’s Day one year ago.  It was after that you found out that the man who you thought loved you had always cheated on you with your sister, from Moment. Fucking. One.  You were together five years with him, and apparently all those five years he was also fucking your sister every chance he got. You were happy to hear that her husband caught them in bed and had filed for a divorce.  You thought it was poetic how she lost a man who made a shit ton of money for an asshole who could hardly pay rent for his shitty apartment.  So when you took the job transfer to Columbia you felt okay with the situation that had happened, as shitty as it sounded.  
But then last night your sister called you and informed you that she was getting married, and that she was pregnant too. She advised you that it would be best if you didn’t attend the wedding because of hard feelings the two of you had. When you asked who the soon-to-be husband and dad was, she had informed you that it was your ex-fiance and that they both were happy they found someone that loved them deeply. As soon as you heard that, you told her to ‘go to fucking hell,’ and then slammed the phone down. Out of anger and rage you grabbed the bottle of alcohol that was on the counter, and downed most of it in one go. Yeah, you weren’t going to that fucking wedding. 
When you woke up and realized it was Valentine’s Day, you seriously contemplated calling in work sick.  But you remembered that you had a morning meeting with your bosses and you knew that Javi and Steve wouldn’t show up.  So you begrudgingly got up and showered, swearing underneath your breath of how life wasn’t fair.  You hated today, Valentine’s Day, with a passion.  Six years ago you met your ex on Valentine’s Day because he was stood up on a date, a date with your sister you found out much later.  Then last year, on Valentine’s Day, you caught him cheating with your sister.  How did life get so fucked up? 
To add to your already sour mood, when you got into work early you noticed that all the rest of the females in the office had big bouquet of flowers on their desks from Javi and Steve. Each of them had a note saying that they really appreciated all the hard work that they have done, and that they were special angels for helping them out.  When you got to your desk you didn’t see any flowers or note telling you that you were special.  The only note that you saw was from Steve saying “don’t fuck up this meeting” and asked if you took your “anti-bitch pill today yet.” Yeah you hated this fucking day.
The meeting that was only supposed to be an hour went on for three long hours, and you were berated for two out of the three hours in the meeting. You had to once again mop up the mess that both Steve and Javi had created, promising to get results instead of excuses. Recently, all the leads that your department was getting in capturing Escobar were cold, no one had seen him or heard of him in almost a month.  Even when you went in and shook the crime tree, nothing fell out of place which made everyone uneasy, especially your superiors. 
Finally when the meeting was over with you were able to return to your desk to try to let your heart and blood pressure return to normal.  When you approached your desk, you saw a little basket there with a pretty red ribbon with sparkles in it.  You looked around quickly to see if anyone noticed or was standing there, you also glanced quickly under your desk to make sure Steve or Javi wasn’t sitting there waiting for you to relax so they could scare you.  When you noticed nothing was out of the ordinary you felt your heart flutter in your chest, especially when the tag read “to the most special DEA female agent” in Javier’s handwriting.
At first your heart fluttered, thinking that finally someone, Javi, took the time to give a shit.  If you were being honest with yourself, you did like Javier Peña.  He was very sexy and attractive. When he wasn’t being an asshole, he was truly sensitive and understood the female sex with their emotions. You thought that he didn’t care anymore about you, but the longer you looked at the name tag on your gift, the more you thought that maybe you were wrong at your assessment. Your heart raced and you felt the heat creep up your neck at the thought that maybe Javi did see you as something more than just an individual who worked with him each day. But when you opened the basket and saw the gift that was laying there for you, your wonder turned into embarrassment as your face fell. Then when you read the note inside you saw red with anger. That bastard took it one step too far this time.
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Once Javi heard your voice he suddenly froze, slowly listening to where you were coming from.  When he realized that you were getting closer, he glanced over at Murphy with wide, scared eyes. He mouthed “shh, shut the fuck up,” when Steve went to open his mouth to ask Javi something.  
As Steve stood there he was trying to understand what the hell his partner had done to anger you so much. He mouthed to Javi ‘what the fuck did you do man?’  Javi just shook his head and placed his finger to his lips to silence Steve’s further questioning.  He wasn’t trying to be a coward, but with how angry you were right now, he didn’t want to come face to face with you.  Yes, Javi had a knack for pissing you off so much that you’d threaten to kill him. But from how angry you sounded, he figured that if he was standing in front of you right now, that you would in fact shoot him dead.
Javi and Steve continued to stand in silence together for a few minutes. Javi was hoping that you would just continue down the hallway and not stop outside of this door.  For a moment it sounded like you had moved on, so much so that Javi felt himself visibly relax and let out a sigh.  But that moment was short lived.  When Javi heard the door knob turn he quickly said, “shit Murph, lie,” and then he ducked behind one of the filing cabinets against the wall.
“What the-” Steve said, looking confused, but for only a minute as you quickly came bursting through the door seething with anger.
“Murphy, where is he?” you said, steam practically coming out of your ears at how mad and pissed off you were at Javier Peña.
“I don’t-”
“Don’t give me that I don’t know shit. You two are practically glued together at the hip, so where the hell is he?” You bit back, standing right in front of Steve’s face.
“Woah, now wait just a second there princess, don’t be biting my head off. I don’t know where he is, or what he’s done, but you can just curb that attitude of yours and-”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what he’s done. This smells like both Peña and Murphy antics to me,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Well sorry cariño, I don’t know where he is or what he’s done.”
Huffing, you let out another long sigh, balling your fists up and slamming them tight against your side.  “This is what he’s done,” you said, shoving the box you were holding with the card in his face.  “And if you happen to see him, you can tell him that I’m looking for him.”
You went to leave, but Murphy blocked your exit saying, “wait a second here princess, don’t go and give me something like this and then take off. Let’s see what’s gotten your panties in a twist.”
“I knew it, it was your idea. I don’t get why you both have to always be so-”  But before you could finish Steve had opened the box and saw what was inside it.  Steve pulled out a pair of black lace panties that had a vibrator attached to them, and as he did he noticed the note at the bottom of the box.  The note was written in Javi’s handwriting and said, “for all those lonely nights baby, when you’re so wound up and don’t have a man that can be inside you. Enjoy.” Signed, Javier Peña.
Murphy was shocked at what he saw and couldn’t help but laugh out loud.  He knew Javi loved to rile you up, and he had to hand it to his partner, he definitely got you going. It was the perfect gift to get even for all those irritating moments the three of you had. But when he looked up at you he immediately froze, his laugh dying out in his throat. Your eyes were red and puffy now as frustrated tears streamed down your face. Steve could tell that the jokes maybe went a little too far this time.
“Sweetheart, we’re-”
“Don’t, just don’t Steve,” you said, grabbing the box and throwing everything back inside, not wanting to look up at him.  “I get it, it’s a joke. A really fucking mean joke, ya know. You all can have any woman that you want. And here I am, in Columbia, and I can’t even get sleazy drug lords to choose me when I’m undercover. Shit, I couldn’t even keep my ex-fiance faithful on this day. You guys will find this hilarious, last year I found my ex fucking my sister. Apparently he never wanted me, wanted her cause now they’re getting married and having a baby and I’m not welcome around my family any more, cause I guess I can’t keep anyone happy.  So nice of you to give the other girls flowers, and tell them how great they are when they don’t even fucking do anything for you.  Meanwhile I have five bullet wounds and several cracked ribs for covering your asses.  By the way, you guys are getting a raise in pay and I’m getting a 5 dollar reduction in pay.  Apparently the superiors feel that it’ll give you guys motivation or something. So yeah, you’re right, perfect joke.  Happy fucking Valentine’s Day to me.” And with that you left, slamming the door.  
This was a joke that Peña and Murphy started with you about six months ago when you were placed undercover to go and try to extract information of the whereabouts of Pablo Escobar.  They placed you at a brothel, knowing that some of Pablo’s higher up men were going to come to choose women to give them sexual favors for the night.  With the help of a few informants, they had dressed you up and gave you pointers on how women acted in these places in Colombia.  Javi had made a joke at you that you were the highest paid prostitute on the street, but when it came time for Pablo’s men to take you, you were the only one left behind.  You weren’t ugly, you actually were quite beautiful, but that night Javi and Murphy had a hay day with you, as you were the only one that was not chosen.  To make matters worse, you had gone out with them that night and couldn’t even get a guy to buy you a drink at the bar, let alone talk with you.  And now the joke, you thought, had gone too far.  Humiliated and embarrassed, you went and gathered your things and left to go home for the day, not wanting to see anyone again.
After you stormed out, and Murphy knew you were gone, he walked over to where Javi was, facing the back wall. “You got her vibrating panties?” Steve said, shaking his head and laughing.
“At the time, I thought it was a good idea. But something got lost in translation I suppose,” he said, still not wanting to leave his hiding spot. 
“Peña, let me give you some advice.  If you like a girl, don’t get her vibrating panties and then give her a card that says ‘for all those lonely nights when you don’t have a man.’  It just makes you look like an even bigger dick than what you already are.”
“Yeah, I realize that now,” he said, still not coming out of his hiding spot.
“Did ya know any of that other shit she was talking about?” Steve said, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. Javi shook his head no as he came out of where he was hiding.
“Kinda fucked up if you ask me. Fucking her own sister and then marrying her.  Talk about a cold hearted son of a bitch.”
“Yeah, I never knew. Fuck Murph, what do I do?”
“You already know what you gotta do man. Or do I need to call her back in here so she can spell it out for you?”
“Fuck you,” Javi said, walking out the door to go find you.  He felt like the biggest dick right now.  The gift and note wasn’t a joke from him, and he hated to think that you felt like it was.
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Javi eventually learned that you had decided to go home for the day, leaving your work here. “She’s taking a sick day,” is what Maria, the secretary in the front office, had told him.  Javi had attempted to get some paperwork done, but he kept thinking about you and how hurt you sounded when talking with Murphy.  He didn’t mean for it to come off as a joke, in fact Javi wanted you to have the panties for a good reason, he wanted you to wear them for him.
Javi had been the biggest pain in your ass from the start.  He was always coming over to your desk, forcing you to work through his work, making you work in the field with him, etc.  To you it felt like he was punishing you for being good at your job. But in reality, he secretly liked you and wanted to be with you.  Javi didn’t know why he couldn’t communicate his feelings to you, why he always had to make fun of you or rile you up.  “I’m taking a sick day,” Javi told Murphy as he walked towards the door.  
Murphy, who was still at his desk, said “Connie said she’s at home now.”  Connie was one of your best friends here in Colombia.  Being in a foreign country was hard, and making friends was even harder, especially what you did for a job. Your friends back at home disagreed with your career choice of being sent to Colombia, so your entire support structure was no longer there.  Connie was one of the nicest women you had met or seen in the longest time.  She understood your career choice, and didn’t hold it against you when your plans would change.  
Javi had stopped and bought a dozen flowers from a street vendor before he got to your house.  When he knocked on the door he softly said, “querida, I’m so sorry. Please open up, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I-”
“Who the fuck said you made me cry Peña?” you said, opening up the door suddenly, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes, tears at your lash line.
“No one I, Jesus woman, c’mere,” he said, stepping inside and placing the flowers on the end table by the door when he saw your face.  He then reached for you, pulled you tight into his chest, holding you as the dam opened up again and the tears fell. “I’m so sorry baby, so sorry. I didn’t mean how it came out, fuck-”
“What did I do for you to hate me?” you said, voice muffled in his chest.
“Nothin’ baby, I don’t hate you, I-” he said, rubbing his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you.  This was not going the way that he had hoped.
“I mean, I pull extra duty, and am one of the strongest hitters on the team.  Fuck Javi, I even have brought in more leads than Murphy and yet you publicly humiliate me.”  You said, as a sob broke free from your mouth.  You didn’t know why you were opening up, allowing Javi to attempt to soothe you.  You just didn’t have it in you to fight right now, too emotionally worked up to even care.
“No, no, baby. It ain’t like that, look at me,” Javi said, pulling you away from his chest and gently cupping your face with his hands.  “Querida, I got them for you and for me, for you to think about me.”
Shaking your head you stepped back and said, “what? Peña, what the fuck are you talking about for you and me? I’m not-”
“Shit, this ain’t coming out the way I wanted it to,” Javi said, pacing back and forth in your living room.  Javi was mumbling to himself, unsure of how to deal with the situation and correct it.  Not knowing how to place it into words, his feelings, he thought that he could show you. He immediately reached for you and kissed you hard on the lips.  Javi, once again, was hoping the kiss would show you that he cared, but all you read was he was being condescending once again. You immediately pulled back and found your strength and slapped Javi hard across his face.
“Javi, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?  Just because I’m crying, trying to understand why the guy I have a crush on hates me, doesn’t give you the right to-”
“I like you,” he said, rubbing the sting site he felt across his cheek.  Damn that woman could hit hard, he thought to himself.  You continued to talk overtop of him, not realizing what he just said. You kept saying how much of an asshole he’s been to you and how much you hate men as you’ve always been taken advantage of.  Javi shook his head at you, hearing words such as dickhead, asshole along with other words such as, pendejo and cabrón. You kept telling him off, not listening to anything that he had just told you. 
With a sarcastic laugh, he said, “I can’t fucking believe you, you don’t listen baby.” He was now getting just as frustrated at you for not listening to him. She says I don’t listen, hell, she doesn’t listen.
All you heard was ‘I can’t fucking believe you’ and nothing else. Once again, you marched over to smack Javi hard across the face. But this time, he caught your hand mid-air saying, “I don’t think so cariño. You only get one free hit, and you already used it up for today.” 
The sadness that you felt earlier had now turned into blinding anger and rage. You started fighting back.  You were done with men treating you like assholes, for cheating on you with your sister, for not listening to you or even attempt at paying attention.  You started hitting Javi’s chest, yelling at him and saying, “you’re an asshole,” over and over again.  You were throwing a temper tantrum, frustrated about the last few days, and Javi was your outlet.  However, Javi didn’t see your attitude nor behavior as enduring or even cute.  Him, having about enough of you using him as a physical punching bag, decided to take matters into his own hands to calm you down.  He grabbed your hand and threw it behind your back, slamming you to the ground while yelling, “Enough.”
You kept trying to kick him, to hurt him more.  You weren’t part of this planet anymore, you just saw red at reliving every shitty moment for the last six years.  Of taking the smacks to the face your boyfriend gave you when he was drunk and you questioned why he had red lipstick stains on his shirt and around his cock as you undressed him from a night out with his friends. What you didn’t know is that it was your sister’s lips that were around him, and not some other woman.  It didn’t make those moments easier, but you always thought that maybe it was just a one night stand, not a five year long relationship behind your back. 
You kept kicking Javi, yelling that you were done with people hurting you, clearly not seeing him anymore. To help calm you down, Javi maneuvered his body so he was sitting on your ass, with your arm behind your back.  Your chest was laying flat on the floor, his chest then tight on your back as he snarled in your ear, “you’re gonna stop this shit, right now, stop trying to hit me.”
“Fuck you David-” you said, not realizing that you called him your ex. 
“I’m not him baby. I never was, nor will I ever be him. So stop calling me David, my name isn’t fucking David.” Javi growled in your ear, leaning harder into you to get you to calm down.
You finally relaxed at hearing Javi speak to you, reminding yourself that he wasn’t your ex. As soon as you relaxed Javi released your arm, but stayed firm against you, hands on both sides of your head as he breathed hard and fast at the fight that you gave him.  It was then that you remembered everything that Javi and you were, everything that you were alone.
Sometimes at night when you couldn’t sleep you’d go back into work and find Javi working alone at his desk.  He’d always come over and ask you why you were showing up at work around midnight on a day where you just placed in 12 hours. Alone the two of you would always find moments where you could be soft with each other.  He’d order you both greasy pizza to eat at night and he’d tease you of picking off all the pepperoni. Nights where you were scared to be home alone, he’d take you back to his house and you’d sleep in his bed when he slept on the couch.  When you got shot several times, after you were discharged home, he’d stay with you in your apartment. He even slept next to you on your bed a few times.  
He also bathed you when you got sick with a fever from the infection of the bullet wounds, and nursed you back to health for several weeks.  If you were being honest, Javi was your best friend when the two of you were alone.  But at work, he was the biggest dickhead.  You were jealous when he started flirting with the new secretary that came in, Phillis, and hated when you saw him at the brothel down the street.  Javi never attempted sex with you, and honestly, it upset you. You wanted him, but apparently he never wanted you.  So at work you took out your frustration the only way you knew how, you became a pain in his ass like he was a pain in yours.
But when Javi didn’t move, continuing to breathe hard in and out, you knew that something had changed.  You went to move your ass and immediately he hissed “don’t” as his hips stayed tight against yours, not moving nor letting you up.  After a moment of submitting to him you heard him ask in a strained voice “are you calm enough for me to move or do we have to keep you like this for a little longer?”
You didn’t know why you felt like saying it out loud, but you didn’t want to play this game of not being honest with him anymore. “I’ve calmed down, but Javi, I’d like it if you stay like this for a little while, hell you can even push deeper into me if you want.” You gave Javi a little wiggle of your ass at his statement.
The air around the two of you changed, thickening with sexual tension. “Shit baby, ya can’t say that to me,'' he said, slightly leaning forward and pushing his crotch tighter to your ass.  You felt him slightly rock back and forth, groaning at the feel of you beneath him.
“Fuck baby,” he said, grinding against your ass with a little bit more force. “Do you feel that?  See, that’s what you fucking do to me woman.” Javi was now rocking harder into you, giving you slow deep thrusts. You could feel his hard outline in his pants as he was seated firmly against you. “This is what you’ve always done to me. I don’t hate you, fuck baby, I like you. I want you. So if you’ll shut up long enough, then maybe you’ll hear me say it.”
You slightly arched your back, pushing up so he could kiss your neck.  When you changed the position both of you moaned loud in unison, feeling his hips slowly grind harder into you. You never remembered feeling this good by just letting a man grind into you, but fuck, Javi was slowly making you feel feral. 
“Javi, I don’t-” you said slowly.
“No,” He growled, not wanting you to tell him to stop.  He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold back. He wanted so desperately to be deep inside of your warm cunt that he was struggling right now to keep his composure. “Fuck hermosa, feel what you do to me.”  
But you were, you felt how much Javi wanted you and you knew how much you wanted him.  You laid there and let him slowly grind his hips into you again until something snapped inside.
“Javi, fuck me,” you said, pushing your ass harded back into him.
Javi immediately stilled his hips at your statement, looking down at you, trying to determine if what you were asking was what he thought.  When he didn’t respond again, you said with a little more bite, “Javi, you gave me a vibrator for all those lonely nights when I don’t have a man’s dick inside of me.  Please, I don’t want to use the vibrator tonight. For once on Valentine’s Day I want a man inside me that fucking cares. If you really care, please give me that.”  
You felt Javi get off from you and walk away, towards the door, rustling around with something.  You laid face down in the middle of your living room, tears welling up in your eyes at being rejected once again.  You hated this fucking holiday, but when you let out a little sniffle you felt his hand cup your chin, turning you to the side. With the softest eyes possible he said, “come on now, no more crying. Now up you go,” as he helped you stand.  Once you were standing he smiled down at you and then gave you a slow tender kiss on the lips.  When he pulled back he held out the black lace panties in front of your face.
“Here, I bought these for you. Now, go and put them on, and let me see them on you.  Then I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve, like a man that’s wanted to be with you from the moment he laid eyes on you. Fuck what you stupid ex did to you last year-”
“And every year before,” you said softly.
Javi’s eyes got impossibly dark, anger and lust mixing with them.  He hated your ex, the man that broke you.  If Javi had to spend the rest of his life showing you that you deserved more, then he would do it.  Fuck his superiors, or anyone else that thought he and you shouldn’t be together. 
“The fact that you say that makes me angry that any man would ever-”
“Forget it Javi, it’s-”
“No. Now pay attention sweetheart, cause I’m only gonna say it once. No man should ever make you feel like this, ever, you hear me? Now, go put them on baby, and let me see you in them. Then, I’m gonna take you to bed and show you how a man is supposed to treat the woman he cares about.”
“Oh, and how’s that Peña, what are you gonna do that makes me forget all the stupid shit other men have done?” You said, playfully nudging Javi and his cockiness that you have found you love.
Javi grabbed you by the hair and tilted your head back while whispering above you, “I’m gonna fuck you so good that you’re gonna forget every man before me, baby.  Then I’m gonna show you how a real man treats the woman he’s crazy over. It’s just you and me, and I’ll remind you of that every night before we go to sleep. There’s no one’s pussy I’d rather be buried in than yours. I only want to be balls deep in you, and not anyone else.”  Javi then slammed his lips onto yours and gave you a kiss like you deserved.  
Maybe you had to have David be in your life and screw you over, because without him, you’d never have met Javier Peña. Javi was a real man that made good on his promises, of being the man that you needed.  Before the night was over, and after you came down from your intense rough sex with him, you found yourself looking into his eyes and seeing the potential for a future once again.  As Javi slowly rocked into you, making slow love at the end, he whispered, “you’re mine cariño, and I’m never letting you go.”  And that was the thing that tipped you both over the edge, moaning each other’s names and kissing each other like you both had just found your future soulmate.
Javi did make good on his promises, he never let you go.
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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 month
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Not That Kind of Guy
Part Fourteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series
Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, gun play, GEN. SMUT [all possible tags, not necessarily all apply]
Info: Ghost is whiny, He’s feeling petty, he told you so!![diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. Stalker!Anakin Character art (as Ghost) MDNI 18+
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Diary Entry: September 2nd
I lied. I said I wasn’t mad at you, but I am.
It’s not like I tell you no to anything, so why wouldn’t you just ask me first? Are you just desperate for a moment away from me and too nice to tell me that? Running from your problems won’t help especially when your problem is me.
I did what I should’ve done a long time ago. A new software has been installed on your phone, very similar to the screen cloning software linked to my laptop. Only this one is active all the time, a constant feed of live audio that I’ve taken the liberty of flagging a few words within the code.
Anakin, hate, love, Ghost, annoying, angry… so on and so forth.
The software flagged several sections of audio within the timeframe of your drive to the cabin. I must say, I’m surprised about the things the two of you talk about, I’m never going to be able to look Han in the eye ever again.
I also lied to you about something else. I don’t work tonight, or tomorrow. I switched up my schedule with April for you, cause I have a little something planned for you. A little thing I’ve had tucked away, actually never intended on getting it out and doing anything with it really. It was a gift from Cliegg after there was a murder on the college campus last year.
Don’t worry, it wasn’t me that time.
Anyway, I think it might be fun. For me at least.
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“Okay but I don’t get it.” Luke said, propping up his feet on the dash while you drove.
“What about it don’t you get?” You snorted, slowing to a stop at a traffic light. “I think it’s pretty self explanatory Luke.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t come equipped with a cooter and I’ve never, nor wanted, the opportunity to see one.” He crossed his arms and tilted his head back and rolled his shoulders. “I just don’t see the benefit.”
“First of all, it’s pretty.” Holding a finger up and adding a second, “second, it feels heavenly.”
“I am a gay man.” Luke scoffed, “Dicks aren’t very pretty. A little jewelry can’t fix that.”
“How does it even work? Does he have to take it out to piss? That’s inconvenient.”
“No!” You laughed, covering your mouth as you turned the dial to quiet the radio. “No, he doesn’t have to take it out. To answer your other question, it’s the metal balls on either end of the jewelry. That’s the point of the piercing you know? It rubs up-“
“Okay that’s enough, thoughts have been thunk.” He covered his ears and did a dramatic shiver of disgust.
“You asked!”
“I didn’t know you’d be so descriptive!”
“You described in great detail all about the massive ingrown hair on-“
“Oh my god! I told you never to mention that again!” Luke reached across the console and whacked you up the back of the head.
“I’m driving!” You squealed, your hand shooting out to the side and shoving his shoulder. “No, don’t you dare touch that radio! For fucks sake if that’s-“
“It’s ABBA.”
“Go to hell.”
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After two hours you reached the small lakeside cabin that was to be your home for the weekend. A cute little place with a loft and two small bedrooms. The kitchen was… lackluster; a fridge and a stove with a whopping number of three cabinets. The living room however did have a pool table, which in Luke’s eyes made up for the fact that your sister beat him to claiming the loft room, because she’d driven separately and arrived before you.
You chose the room to the left of the living room and Luke chose the one on the right. The view from your window was beautiful deep forest green, leaves and moss and huge tree trunks. While Luke’s was the deep blueish green lake water, the occasional white wake following a boat zipping past.
After tossing your bag onto the floor in the general direction of the nightstand you jumped onto the squishy and super cheap springy mattress on the tacky ‘rustic’ log bed. Pulling up Anakin’s contact you tapped the call button and listen to it ring on speakerphone.
“Hey pretty baby.” Anakin’s rich timbre flooded the line.
“Hi Ani.” You smiled despite him not being able to see you. “Just got into the cabin and picked my room.”
“Oh you got to pick?” He said curiously, “you got the loft didn’t you?” You could hear his grin.
“No, my sister did.” You scoffed, “I thought Luke would have a cow over it but he decided the pool table here would offset his disappointment.”
“Pool table hmm?” Anakin tsk’d.
“Hot tub too.” You grinned.
“A fuckin’-“ he groaned and let out a loud huff, “a hot tub?”
“Yes sir.”
“Hmph.” He snorted, “someone finally taught you some manners huh?”
“W-what?” You asked nervously, bringing the phone closer to you and hopping off the bed to shut the door. “Manners?”
“You just called me Sir didn’t you?” He laughed. “Been taking some etiquette classes?”
“Oh shut up.” You breathed out a sigh, a breath you’d almost choked on. Your guilty conscience was really beginning to steam roll your daily life, even on your mini-vacay you can’t escape your wrongdoings. Ghost was still haunting you all the way out here.
“Just teasing doll.” He snickered, “Anyway, what’s on your agenda?”
“Nothing for tonight, probably gonna sit on the dock and have some drinks, do a little bonfire, hot tub maybe.” You told him, beginning to relax again.
“Drinks? Be careful baby. It’s not exactly safe to drink and get into a hot tub.” He chided, “I’m serious.”
“I know.” You sighed, rolling your eyes.
“Good girl.” He said, pleased enough with your response. “So what room did you say?”
“Oh! I didn’t actually oops. I got the one looking out into the woods, it’s real pretty, I’ll send you a picture after we hang up.” You said, shifting your weight to sit more comfortably.
“Aw thanks babydoll.” You could hear his little smile through his words. “Well, I should probably let you get back to it huh?” He sighed.
“If you wanna talk more-“
“I always wanna talk more but I don’t want to keep you from your fun.” He said a bit quieter. “Uh, just don’t forget to call and leave me a message before bed okay baby? I’d love to hear your pretty voice when I get off work tonight.”
“Okay Ani,” nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll talk to you soon then… I miss you.”
“I love you too.” He made a kissy noise and hung up quickly, leaving you with a frustrated, pinched brow that you reached up to sooth with the heel of your palm.
After snapping a quick picture of your view through the bedroom window, you rejoined your trio in the living room where Luke was teaching your sister to play pool. You stood and watched for a moment, seeing them bicker like they were just reminded you of how much you loved summer trips with them.
Growing up with a sister close in age to you was fun, except for when it wasn’t. She went to school before you did, made friends before you did. Of course you were only two grades behind, but there is a big difference between kindergarten and 2nd grade. She had always been happy to play with you until then.
So when she was meant to be paying attention to you, or at least making sure you were alive, while you were both outside… she was busy on the swing set in your backyard. Which is how you found yourself with scraped knees and (surely, most definitely) a broken ankle from your scooter.
A new family had moved in across the street from you not too long before the summer started, you hadn’t met them, didn’t even know they had kids, until you were being pecked on the shoulder by another child’s finger. After that, Luke was found wherever you were; glued at the hip was an understatement, your families were convinced you were soulmates, that you’d grow up to be married.
Jokes on them.
His sister Leia was outgoing and confident in ways that Luke lacked, so during that first summer she gravitated toward your sister. The twins became a binder, something that held the four of you together. Bridging the gap perfectly between kindergarten and 2nd grade as 1st graders.
It stayed that way, for the rest of your school years and after.
Your parents got along swimmingly, the four of you floated between the two houses. Nights often ending up with a pair of kids asleep in the floor, where one of those children did not belong. A quick phone call to the house across the street to make sure your sibling was there, then all was well and your parents would scoop Luke and you up and tuck you in.
You were seven the first summer your parents had the grand idea to spend a week on the lake. It was a tearful goodbye, kids who spent every possible waking moment with each other are not easily pried apart.
Your parents drove the full two hours to a cute lake house they’d found online and within the first 30 minutes of being there your father had enough of the sniffles and whines. By dinner time Luke, Leia and their parents were sitting around fire pit with you.
Thus your annual tradition was born and kept even after the horrid aftermath of Luke’s unexpected outing. Sans parents of course. Your father supported your mother even if his views didn’t fully align with hers. He was a ‘be gay, just don’t be gay in front of me’ type of person, while your mother was more of the ‘send him to conversion camp, he’s tainting my children’ type of gal.
That didn’t really jive with the whole ‘love and positivity’ approach that the twins parents had about the situation. Which leaves you where you are now, reminiscing on those happy childhood memories before everything got complicated, before you discovered the world outside of your safety net, before the consistent visits from your uninvited house guest.
A loud clap broke you out of the fog and suddenly you were hyper aware of your sister’s nose right in front of your face.
“Lauren!” You gasped, your eyes wide before softening into a grin.
“You’ve been staring into oblivion for a solid minute,” she giggled, “I thought about sticking my finger in your mouth but I was afraid you’d bite it off.”
“My mouth?” You asked confusedly.
“Yeah you’ve been catching flies, looking like a mouth breather.”
“Eew! Don’t call me that!” You scoffed, standing up and following her over to the pool table to discuss your evening plans.
——————————————————————————
Anakin watched your little blue dot travel back and forth from the cabin to the dock, he listened the chatter between the three of you as he drove the two hours out to the pine forest your weekend getaway was taking place. The mile long gravel driveway was perfect to stash his car off to the side of, no one would be coming in or out of the drive all weekend.
He walked through the woods, backpack slung over his shoulder, his hood up and mask on. It was 9:57 and the three of you were still on the dock. He could hear you talking about getting into the hot tub through the Bluetooth earbud he had in, that new software was really paying off.
He hadn’t planned to do this next bit, but he couldn’t help himself. He purposefully got his left shoe dirty, twisting his foot side to side in order even dirt for a proper footprint. Then he left his mark on the first step up to the front porch.
*ping*
‘Having fun?’
You laughed, picking up your phone and leaning back in your chair as you crossed one leg over the other and switched the sound off. You’d only had it on for when Anakin texted, and now he was. Or you thought he was until you realized the text came from your own number.
‘No. Don’t engage. He’s not going to know where you are, how could he possibly know?’ You thought to yourself. ‘I planned this in person, I told Anakin at his place not mine. All Ghost knows is that you’ve left for the weekend.’
You swiped the message away and let out a huff, deciding to take the opportunity to walk back up to the house and call your boyfriend.
“Guys I’m going up to the cabin, gonna call Ani.” You said, standing up and taking your hard lemonade with you. “Need anything?”
“Nope, we’re about ready to head back anyway.” Lauren answered, waving you off. “We’ll be up soon.”
With that you walked away, taking the worn dirt path back up to the house and dialed Anakin’s number, waiting for the voicemail to pick up your call.
‘Hey Ani.’ You smiled, crossing one arm across your chest to rest your other elbow on while you talked. ‘I’m probably not going to bed just yet, but I am going back up to the house. I just wanted to fill you in a little bit I guess.’
Once your shoes hit the gravel you absentmindedly kicked a larger rock off to the side, swinging out your leg and shifting your position to walk backwards, looking down at your sister and Luke on the dock.
‘We’ve been just hanging out all evening, made some sandwiches and had drinks by the water.’ You pivoted again as you neared the porch and looked down to ensure your footing before taking the first step up. ‘We’re going hiking tomorrow morn-‘
You scrunched up your face and took another look before backing away from the steps completely, your eyes scanned the porch and saw the cabin door was still shut.
‘Sorry, thought I saw something…’ you muttered into the phone, spinning slowly in a full circle to take a better look at the tree line. ‘I- okay, anyway. Going hiking tomorrow… probably swim too. There’s a canoe moored down there so maybe we’ll try that out.’
Off to the left of you behind your sisters car you swore you heard gravel crunching underfoot, but when you looked toward the dock, Luke and Lauren where still sitting there. You marched over to the opposite side and saw nothing, going so far as to look under her car and yours.
‘Okay well…’ You were certain now that someone was outside and you were not alone, your phone buzzed against you ear and you pulled it away to swipe away the message, not even registering the sender before holding your phone back up to your ear.
‘Uh alright well I’ll talk to you in the morning,’ you quickly walked back over to the porch steps and side eyed the footprint as if you’d expected it to disappear by now. ‘Goodni-‘
A strange feeling passed over you, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine like a drip of cold water. You were almost afraid to turn around.
‘I gotta go, Miss you bunches… goodnight.’ In your panicked state you didn’t have the same thought process you normally would, you’d simply ended the call and whipped your head around, expecting to find someone, something, that might’ve caused that hair-raising fear. There was nothing.
Breathing a sigh of relief you laughed at yourself. It had probably just been a rabbit, maybe you’d startled it and it kicked up some gravel. The footprint… it could have been there when you arrived, it could’ve been made by one of your group, including you.
You checked the message you’d swiped away and your blood ran colder than ice. Your rational explanations were bulldozed in seconds.
A picture of you, standing in the drive way, taken from behind your sisters car.
The breath was stolen from your lungs. Your sight was locked into tunnel vision, all you could see was the front door as you ran to it and pushed it open. Colliding with something solid and warm as you stepped inside.
Something living and breathing that gripped your hair and cradled you to its chest, something that kicked the front door shut and pressed a cold, blunt object to the temple of your head.
Something that made you want to scream.
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Diary Entry: September 2nd continued
I have time to kill and nothing to do while I wait for you. So I figured I’d write alittle bit.
I’m currently sitting under a tree, watching you and your cute little ponytail swishing around while you giggle. You’re so beautiful. Everything you do is beautiful. I’ve never seen something as exquisite as you.
Maybe that’s part of the reason I want to ruin you so bad. Leading you, my innocent doe, down the path of corruption could quite possibly be my life’s work. How would you like that sweetheart?
You wanna be my magnum opus?
Though of course we do have the one small identity issue to take care of. I need to get my shit together and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. It’s not like I can tippity tap it into Google: ‘how to tell my girlfriend I’ve been stalking her for almost a year’.
No thank you. I don’t trust WikiHow with the fate of my love life.
Let’s be for real. I don’t even trust myself with the fate of my love life because I’ve already managed to fuck shit up. I’m continuing to fuck shit up. What I’m about to do? It’ll fuck the fuck out of the shit.
What can I say other than love makes people do crazy things?
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“Ghost.” Your voice was wobbly and unsure. “Is that a-“
“Gun? Absolutely.” He grunted, pressing the barrel into your skull.
“What are you doing? They’re gonna be back soon, you can’t be here!”
“I came to chat.” He said simply, leaning his head down to put the cheek of his mask against your warm skin. “I missed you.”
“Did you miss me? Is that why you left your boyfriend back home? Wanted to let me have you all to myself for a weekend?”
“No!” You snapped at him, twisting your head away from his.
“Heard you on the phone.” He cooed, “still can’t say the L word? Why’s that?”
“If Luke sees you… my sister- they’ll call the cops, you know that.” You pushed against his chest and felt it rumble with a low laugh beneath your palms.
“Stop deflecting, answer my question.”
“I told you I wasn’t going to talk about Anakin with you!” The whisper left your lips tainted in unease.
“I’m aware. That’s why we aren’t talking about it. You’re going to tell me.” He barked, holding you close to his chest and walking backwards toward your chosen bedroom.
“N-no, I won’t. That’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair?” He scoffed. “I don’t care if you think it’s unfair.”
“How did you find me?!” You wriggled from his arms the moment he closed the bedroom door.
“I know everything about you baby.” His voice low and much too confident for you to believe anything otherwise. He looked relaxed in the way that he reached behind himself and locked the door, leaning back on it and crossing his arms, one long leather finger running parallel to the barrel of the pistol.
“I just wanted one weekend!” You shouted taking off your sneaker and throwing it at him, he gave you no reaction and it only pissed you off more. “Just one!”
“One weekend away from you! I know you can see everything on my phone, you see and hear everything I do, why do you think I wasn’t the one planning this trip? I didn’t want you showing up here!” Yelling at him in a way you never had before as you stalked toward him with your other shoe pointed at him. “I don’t want to talk about Anakin with you! I don’t want to tell you how I feel!”
“Do you want to know how I feel?” He asked calmly.
“I don’t give a shit!” You chucked the shoe at him and he batted it away easily.
“I think you do.” The gun raised up to his mask as if he were scratching his forehead with the barrel. “I think you care a lot and that’s why you won’t tell me.”
You didn’t answer, because he was right. You did care and you did care a lot. You’d been avoiding telling Anakin you loved him to spare Ghost the hurt of having to hear you say it to someone else.
“No.” You stuttered, hesitating and hating the taste of the word on your tongue.
“Don’t lie to me.” He barked, holding out the pistol and motioning for you to move. “Kneel. Now.”
“Gods, seriously? Put your arms down, you idiot.” He scoffed as he watched you lift your hands and put them behind your head like you were being arrested as you knelt down slowly.
“Well I’m sorry. I’ve never been held at gunpoint before.” You snapped, scowling up at him.
“I’m so lucky to have to honor of being your first then.” He grumbled, tucking it into the back of the waistband of his jeans while pulling the pink silk from his pocket and tossing it at you.
“What the fuck are you looking at?” His voice gruff as the toe of his shoe tapped your knee. “Put it on.”
Ghost shook his head, undoing his belt buckle, the tail end of the leather now forever imprinted with your teeth marks. You did as you were told and heard his pants unzip along with a soft grunt.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” He asked, holding his flat palm out to the side to make sure you couldn’t see, rearing back to slap you.
“How should I kn-“ *smack* “ow?! What the fuck?”
“Just making sure.” He snickered, taking off his gloves and putting them in his hoodie pocket.
“Asshole.” You mumbled.
“What was that?” He asked with a playful tone. “You want me to fuck your asshole? Is that what you said?”
“Shut up. You know that’s not what I said.” You muttered, unable to keep your lip from curving upward just a fraction of a centimeter.
“Ah well, the offer still stands.” He chuckled, tapping the side of your jaw with the cold metal barrel of his pistol.
“You’re making me nervous waving it around like that.” You huffed, jerking away from it.
“Good.” He snorted, “open your mouth.”
You did exactly that, thinking you’d feel the warm weighty head of his cock hit the tip of your tongue. Hoping for a taste of the salty precum that wept from his cockhead. You weren’t expecting something small, cold, metallic and pellet shaped.
“Don’t swallow; this is the only time you’ll ever hear me say that so you better listen.” You could hear his smarmy grin. “Roll it around, you feel that?”
“Mhm.” You nodded, feeling the smooth metal and the grooves carved into it, opening your mouth again and he plucked it off the tip of your tongue.
“Your initials, or well… what your initials should be.” He mumbled the last bit.
You hear a series of mechanical and metallic noises, followed by the unmistakable sound of a firearm cocking back.
“You did not just-“
“I did.” He snickered, holding the gun sideways and pointing it directly in the center of your forehead. The blunt edge digging into your flesh and pressing down against your skull.
“Spread your fingers.”
“Why?” You asked as you splayed your hand.
“Do you have to question everything?” You felt thick metal circle your middle and ring finger, dropping to the base of each digit, barely making any contact with your skin on its descent. It really put in perspective just how much bigger than you he was.
Even more so when you felt his warm, calloused fingertips weave their way between yours and squeeze gently. The tender gesture did nothing to quench the fear sitting heavy on your chest. A loaded gun, a loaded and ready to fire gun was about an inch from your brain.
“C’mon, you don’t want to talk? Not even like this?” Condescension dripping from his lips. “Loaded gun to your head and you still won’t talk about your feelings.” He tsk’d.
“It’s not your business.”
“See that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve already had this discussion haven’t we?” He crouched down in front of you, air rushing past from the quick motion. “It is my business. You were mine first.”
The curved edge of the barrel traveled down your forehead, across your cheek and rested heavily on your bottom lip.
“Give it a kiss for good luck little doe.” Ghost spoke low and steady, almost monotone. Considering your situation you did as you were told once again.
“Good girl.” He stood back up and pushed the waistband of his boxers down by hooking his thumb beneath the elastic. “Now get to work, bitch.”
His tone had changed again, now a sharp and hard edge that smacked you like a cold wind. Emotional whiplash was to be expected in every encounter you had with Ghost, but none so far was as bruising as this.
He’d never brought a gun to a knife fight before.
You hesitated for a moment longer than he was willing to wait, so he dropped your hand, the small bit of comfort he’d allowed you to have. Grabbing the back of your head and forcing his swollen cockhead past your lips, cool metal returning to the center of your forehead.
You gagged and spluttered around his length, the hot and leaky cockhead bruising the back of your throat. Ghost seemed to love the sound, loved feeling you cough and try to gasp for air, his hand tightened in your hair as he let out a loud and gravely moan.
“You suck cock so much better with your life on the line.” He laughed, pulling you away from him and releasing your hair. He watched you cough and wipe drool off your chin and neck with the back of your hand.
“Ready to talk?” He asked, his breathing heavy and uneven.
“Fuck you.” Spitting the words out with venom.
“Sorry sweetheart that’s not on the agenda tonight.” You felt the rush of air before his palm made contact with your cheek, your hand immediately lifting to cradle it and feel the heat radiating from the irritated flesh.
“C’mon doe, I don’t have to be mean about this.” He barked, “Just use your big girl words.”
“L-Luke’s gonna be back up here any minute.” You stuttered, lifting your head in the general vicinity of where his would be.
“You realize you’re only making this more difficult for yourself right?” He asked, not giving you the opportunity to answer when he fisted your hair and forced your lips to meet the tip of the barrel of his pistol.
*shk* *click* **click** nothing.
Before you had time to process the fact that he had just pulled the trigger of a loaded gun in your mouth, you were being choked and not given any hope for breathing. His forefinger and thumb tightly clamped over your nose and his cock lodged in your throat as he fucked your face. Instinctively you tried to draw in a breath, accidentally breathing in saliva, making you cough so hard that Ghost had no choice but to back off.
“Ghost...” You dry heaved on your hands and knees. “I’m n-not gonna tell you.”
“What’s it gonna take huh?” He asked angrily, you could hear the sound of clothes rustling just before he lifted you up and shoved you over toward the bed. “What’s it gonna take for you to admit that you love me?”
“I don’t!” You yelled, taking off the blindfold and tossing it aside.
“I didn’t say you could take that off.” He snapped at you while pulling his gloves on, snatching the ring off your middle finger and shoving it down in his pocket. He whipped his head around toward the door suddenly.
“Shit.” He shoved the gun in the back of his waist band and grabbed his bag without explanation.
“What?” You asked sitting up on the bed.
“Gotta go.” He grumbled.
He grabbed the blindfold and slipped it back over your head, grabbing your jaw and tilting your head back, his lips met yours in a soft embrace. His tongue piercing gliding across the slit between your lips before pushing past them slowly, the taste of cigarettes and gum flooded your senses. He hadn’t tasted like this last time he kissed you.
He took one of your wrists in a gentle grip and brought it to his cheek. Ghost kept a loose grip on your wrist but he allowed you to feel the smooth skin beneath his eyes, your fingertips collecting the smallest amount of moisture in the outer corner of his eye.
He was crying.
He broke the kiss, your lips begging to stay connected to his. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself that kiss felt like home. The fact that he was shedding tears was unsettling, the car crash that was this relationship had officially gone beyond whiplash and into ‘trapped inside, in need of the jaws of life’ territory.
He took the same hand and pressed it to the center of his chest and left it there to put both his gloved hands on either side of your face, pressing his lips to your forehead. Their warmth left your skin and you immediately wanted it back.
He took the blindfold back off and smoothed out your hair quickly, putting the silk in his pocket and putting up his hood. The mask back where it belonged, those black pits where his eyes should be held an emotion that was pouring from every inch of his being. You felt like he was staring through you and straight into your soul. He stood beside the window with his bag slung over his shoulder. Who knew such strong emotion could be felt… seen, without ever laying eyes on the person emitting those feelings.
“Lock your window back.” He nodded toward you and promptly climbed out just as you heard the front door opening, he was gone before you even had a chance to get a second look as he ran off.
You did as he asked and locked the window before checking your appearance in the mirror, a mess was reflected back at you. You looked as if you’d been lost at sea. Tangled hair and ashen skin covered in streaked makeup. The churning in your stomach only rocked the proverbial boat more.
After a deep breath you brushed your hair and pulled the makeup wipes from your bag to clean up with.
“Hey!” You heard a sharp knock on the bedroom door and answered it while still wiping away at your face.
“What’s up?” You asked your sister as she pushed past you.
“Just checking on you before I went to bed, Lukey and I were out there for longer than we meant to be.” She shrugged on her way to jump on the bed, “Ow! Fuck.” She winced and picked up her bare foot, rubbing the sole with her thumb as she picked up the offending item.
“Who’s ring?” She asked, holding it up for you to see.
“Oh it’s just Anakin’s!” You lied, laughing anxiously and plucked it from her fingers, encasing it in your own hand. “Probably just fell out of my bag.”
“He has such a weird taste in jewelry. What even is that?” She pointed to your closed fist, and watched as you peeled back your fingers and exposed your palm.
It wasn’t a lie, it was Anakin’s.
“A centipede.” You swallowed, staring at the hunk of metal. “It- he always wears this one. I don’t… I’m not sure how it ended up in my bag.”
Your throat felt dry, your palms started to sweat. You felt like you might be sick. Why did he have Anakin’s ring? He hardly ever takes it off.
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Diary Entry: September 3rd
I should have never taken those fucking rings off. I had to lie to you. It’s stupid I know but lying about something little like that is almost worse than the big secret you know? Cause I don’t want you to think I’m untrustworthy, I am. I’m very trustworthy.
You just let me shoot what you thought was a loaded gun in your mouth. I’d say that means you trust me quite a bit. Ghost, not me I mean. You trust Ghost with your life, but you can’t trust Anakin enough to tell him you love him?
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Date
September 3rd (1:45 am)
Anakin jogged to the end of the driveway and hopped into the front seat of his car, taking off his mask and gloves. With the steering wheel in both hands he leaned forward to rest his forehead on the back of his hands. Keeping his grip at the top of the wheel with one hand he leaned back again, looking up at the roof of his car, his other hand going to pinch the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone started ringing, he quieted himself and quickly strategized a set of half truths and full lies that he might need to use before answering the phone.
“Hey princess.” He sounded cheery as he picked up the phone, “lucky you, I was just going out to smoke.”
“Oh?” You asked, feeling relieved to hear that he sounded fine. Maybe ghost didn’t chop off his finger after all. “Sorry, I- I have a weird question.”
“I love weird questions.” He snorted, you could hear him flip open his zippo lighter and snap it shut after a long inhale.
“Are you missing any rings?” You asked, hoping he said no and that this was just a very odd coincidence.
You heard rustling on the other end of the line while Anakin frantically searched his pockets, coming up one ring short.
“Yeah I am actually, why?” He answered clearing his throat nervously.
“Which one?”
“My many legged lad.” He answered, instinctively flicking his cigarette ash with anxiety, the miniature embers floating down to his jeans. He quickly swiped them away and tried to remain focused. “I took it off to shower at your place last night.”
“I figured the cat knocked it off the sink or something.” He shrugged to himself, hoping it was enough of a lie to convince you that maybe Ghost snatched it off the sink.
“S-somehow it ended up in um, my bag I guess.” You said, turning the jewelry over in your palm, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed.
“Huh, well that’s fucking weird.” He chuckled, “I don’t know, babe. Just keep it safe for me til you get back I guess sweetheart.”
“I will, I’ve got it on the nightstand right now.” You answered, licking your bottom lip.
“Thanks babydoll, listen, I gotta go back inside.” He grumbled, sucking air through his teeth the way he always did on his last drag of his cigarette. “I love you doll. Sleep good.”
“Night Ani, text me when you’re home.”
“You got it baby." Anakin answered, his voice low and smooth.
A perfectly normal conversation. A perfectly normal explanation on his part. A completely plausible assumption that Ghost simply took it from Anakin. Though you’d never known him to be brazen enough to come around with Anakin there and awake.
A perfectly dreadful whisper floated in one ear and out the other.
—————-
Date
September 3rd (2:27 am)
Anakin walked circles around his car, desperate to find an escape, an excuse, an explanation. Something, anything to help him backtrack. He couldn’t go back to your cabin tonight. He’d made you lock the windows and he knew Luke would quadruple check that the front door was locked. He didn’t know your sister or Luke’s sleep habits so he didn’t feel comfortable picking the lock.
He would have to tough it out until tomorrow night.
You were very much in the same boat as him. Waiting anxiously to see if he would come back, to see what would happen.
You wanted to call Anakin again, just to hear his voice, to listen to the calming comfort of it. To affirm that all was well, he was safe and fine. That was the only reason. You just wanted to make sure he was safe. Anakin was perfectly capable of handling himself, but to your knowledge he didn’t own any weapons that he could defend himself with. As far as you knew, Anakin Skywalker was sweet and kind and soft. He was loving and gentle. He was the perfect man, the most wonderful thing to walk into your life.
Anakin loves you and you love him. You love him so much, so much that it hurts. You love him so much that you’ve refused to say it. To protect him, to protect yourself, to protect Ghost from the hurt of it.
That’s just it though, there is Ghost. He’s there at every corner, he’s the creak in the floor boards at night, he’s the figure you see in the corner of your eye, he’s the creepy feeling of being watched, the voice you swear you hear saying your name.
He cares for you, and he cares deeply. You know without having to hear it from him that he believes you’ve hung the sun and the moon, he knows all the stars in the galaxy twinkle just for you and he believes you should be treated as such.
For all his wrong doings he’s done something right, not the helpful little things nor the occasional softness he’s begun to show.
No it’s something else.
It’s a feeling so oddly tangible that you can feel it in your throat each time you swallow. There isn’t a name for it, no term that you’ve ever heard could properly define it. You know that much to be true.
It’s a pull, a strong and undeniable tether. Like a child and their security blanket. Visible or not, where there is one there is always the other.
You’d miss him if he were gone, much like you’d miss the comfort of a fresh from the dryer blanket. The fuzzy warmth that wraps you up so tightly, the feeling of being tucked away from the world in safety.
That heat fades quickly, just like he does. He’s present one moment and the next he’s left you alone and you have to start the cycle all over again. You stare at your reflection and watch the world tumble around you and he watches you from behind the glass until he’s ready to come out again.
You want to fold him up and lay him across the end of your bed. Within reach at all times, you don’t want the dryer door between you anymore. You don’t want the few moments of heat from the fabric.
You want consistency.
Anakin can give you consistency in a way that no one else ever has. You never have to worry about him leaving or being disloyal, you never have to voice your feelings or opinions if you don’t want to because he just knows. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Ghost.
With Ghost you know that you are without a doubt the safest person alive. You don’t have to think, you can just be and know he is there to do anything and everything for you. You never have to worry about anything. Except for Anakin.
————-
Date
September 3rd
Hiking had never been your favorite summertime activity, but you’d come to realize it wasn’t because of all the walking or the bugs, it wasn’t even because of the horrid, atrocious memory of the time you’d walked through poison ivy.
You didn’t like it because it gave you too much time to think. That was exactly the opposite of what you needed right now. Right now you needed nothing, you needed the cold emptiness that comes along with burying yourself in something that took up all your brain power until there was none left to dwell on your troubles.
By the time you’d reached your destination you were drenched with sweat in the most uncomfortable way imaginable. Your shirt stuck to you, the cups of your bra were damp and itchy, your shorts had ridden up and you weren’t entirely sure that you were wearing shoes instead of walking barefoot in a bog.
“Luke.” You grumbled, taking a long drink from your water bottle. “How long have we been out here?”
“About two hours.” He replied casually, not nearly as winded as you and your sister. “Let’s eat and we’ll head back.”
“Are we lucky enough to be on one of those trails that the start is long but the loop around is short?” Your sister asked, wiping her forehead with the inside of the collar of her shirt.
“You’re both wimps,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes, passing out sandwiches and chips. “No, the way back is the way we came.”
“You’re joking.” You complained with a scrunched up expression.
“No ma’am.” Luke responded and thumbed over his shoulder at the overlook you’d made the journey to see. Yes it was beautiful, but worth the blister forming on the back of your ankle? Definitely not.
“Unless you’d like to take a dip off the cliff edge.” He snickered, knowing damn well that you’d rather gnaw off your fingers than jump from this height. “It’d be a couple minutes swim to shore and you’d be at the cabin.”
“No way really?” You said, standing up and biting into your sandwich as you walked cautiously closer to the edge. Gazing down you saw the dock, your eyes traveling up the tiny- hardly visible- dirt path until you reached the cabin.
He was right, you tracked your hiking trail up the curve of the incline you’d suffered through, it was a massive arc. Leaving you staring at the comfort of the cabin, so close but impossibly far away. You looked for a moment more, the lake sparkling like glitter in the bright sunshine. A few boats disrupting the water as they sped past, far off the shore.
You snapped a few pictures and scrolled through them, nearly choking on your food as you spotted something you’d missed with your naked eye. Only seeing it now that you were scrutinizing the photos quality to decide which one you’d keep.
“Jesus, you alright?” Lauren asked, watching you thump the side of your fist against your chest. Breathing heavily through your nose while chewing the food to swallow it and chase it down with a gulp of water.
“M’fine.” You coughed, looking back down at your phone and then to the landscape below to see if he was still there.
You should’ve expected to find him, expected the way he made himself at home on the porch, rocking in a rocking chair. The scene was still jarring, even more so when you realized he wasn’t wearing his hoodie.
His bare arms on display, his chest and abdomen covering by a loose black tank top. You frantically tried to zoom in with your camera. But of course all you could see was a fuzzy blur of inked skin.
What luck.
He was there, in broad daylight without a staple piece of his ensemble, one he didn’t remove in front of you. Now you understood why he told you he’d be recognizable if you were to see his skin. He was covered in tattoos.
And it’s your unfortunate luck that despite being so close to him, it’d take an hour to get there. Your great luck that he’d left himself vulnerable to your gaze at a distance that would prove impossible to decipher his identity. He was doing this purposely, there was no doubt about it. Why else would he do something so risky?
Ghost was baiting you.
Like the stupid little fish you were, you nibbled on the hook until he was able to reel you in.
‘I see you’ You texted him,
‘Creep.’ He texted back, standing up from his rocking chair and walking to the front porch steps. He waved dramatically, the sun shining down on him and catching on the white plastic of his mask, making him plainly visible. You watched through the zoomed in and grainy image of your phone as he moved, hoping maybe it would clear up and you could see something identifying.
Suddenly you were reminded of something you’d learned in school, a book you’d read… maybe Nancy Drew? Signaling using a mirror or something reflective to catch a person’s attention, sometimes used as a means of communication in Morse code. Though this wasn’t nearly as sophisticated.
He had pulled out both his knives and flipped them, the sunlight refracting off the shiny silver blades erratically until it became one concentrated beam as he crossed the sharp edges over each other. Forming an X to direct to light straight at your face, promptly blinding you.
“Fuck.” You winced, stumbling backwards and causing your sister to gasp.
“Christ, what the hell are you doing?” She asked worriedly, standing up and walking toward you but not daring to move as close to the cliffs edge as you were.
“A- a bug or something.” You lied, rubbing your eyes to clear up the imprinted flash of light you saw each time you let your eyelids fall shut.
*ping*
‘See me now?’
‘Asshole.’ You mumbled under breath, looking back over the cliffs edge to see that he’d managed to get out of sight in the time it took for you to recover.
“Alright, let’s go back. I’m hot and sweaty.” Luke said, standing up and stretching. He packed away our trash and then shoved Lauren forward when she complained.
“I’ll push you off the edge if you don’t shut up and leave me be.” He snorted, dodging her water bottle that she swung by the handle at him.
“C’mon let’s go before you kill each other.” You said with a laugh, feeling better now that Ghost was -probably- gone for now.
After another hour of hiking back down the steep incline you’d just traveled up, you were grateful to collapse on the cold wood floor of the living room and bask in the cool air supplied by the window unit nearby.
——————————————————————————
Diary Entry: September 3rd
I’m so jittery waiting around for you guys to get the hell out of that stupid cabin. I have shit to do and you’re gumming up the works. I need to get your bathing suits, I scouted out around the lake last night when I couldn’t sleep. Not in my Ghost mask, I used a bandana. I think it’d be real unfortunate to get the cops called because Ghostface is roaming the pine woods.
Anyway, your bathing suits. I’m taking the ones I disapprove of. Did you know there’s a cabin full of jockey college boys right across the lake from you? You better not have planned that. They have a perfect view of the dock you’ll be swimming off of. Which means they were probably watching you last night when you were having your drinks.
I’m the only one who can watch you like that. Especially when you’re gonna be prancing around with that fucking ass of yours on display. ‘Ani, I’m just gonna wear it to tan in!’ Yeah alright. That’s the only reason doll? That’s the reason you brought a thong bikini to the lake? With a cabin full of testosterone waiting to catch a whiff of you from across the way?
I can’t believe you’re so stupid sometimes. I love you but damn do you have no self awareness? I’d let you wear it when I’m around. But I’m not. Not the way I want to be at least. I want to be there fucking you with my eyes and smacking your cute ass every chance I get. If I’m not standing there watching over you then those idiots might get the idea you’re wearing that shit for them and not me.
They don’t know you’re tanning, making that bangin’ fucking body sun kissed for my viewing pleasure when you return. They just see ass and tits and drool. I might drool yeah… but it’s only for you. I love you. I have eyes only for you and I always will.
Those dick-wads don’t know you or care about you. They lust over every bitch they see. You don’t want to make it easier for them do you? No? That’s what I thought. I know you didn’t do it purposely little doe. You can’t help it. You’re used to me being by your side and keeping you safe, used to wearing whatever you want when I’m around because you know I’ll fuck shit up if someone looks at you wrong. You’ve gotten used to it and didn’t use your little girl brain to make adjustments for the fact that Anakin wouldn’t be there for you.
Just another reason you should’ve brought me along.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Oh my fucking god it’s so fucking hot outside. What the hell is wrong with Luke? Making you walk up that MOUNTAIN. I totally would’ve followed but I’m actually busy trying not to fucking drown in my own sweat. There’s a bunch of reasons Ghost is mostly nocturnal. This is one of them.
I was being baked alive.
Anywho, I showered and now I smell like you, so I’m gonna wander about, have a wee little snack. By the way, I’m really sad you forgot the mustard.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
Baby, don’t be mad I didn’t mean to almost make you trip. I just thought it would be a little funny. I was right. But I’m still kind of sorry.
I wish I could’ve seen your face.
‘Oh my god! His shoulders are out!’ Scandalous.
Risky? Yes. Worth it. Yes, can’t wait to hear you whine about it when I fuck you again.
——————-
Date
September 3rd
“Okay, let’s get ready for the lake.” Luke stood up and clapped his hands together once, a loud *pop* resounding through the living room.
“Already on it.” You huffed, throwing yourself forward into a sitting position and hopping to your feet.
You entered your room and noticed two things immediately: 1) the ring is gone 2) your red one piece swimsuit is on the bed. Upon further investigation you discovered a note laying on top of it.
Written in quick scratch was a short note from Ghost.
‘Doe,
I’ve taken the liberty of making adjustments to your wardrobe.‘
‘Adjustments?’ You thought, grabbing your bag and dumping it out on the bed.
The only things missing were your other bathing suits and your shower stuff, quickly grabbing the red suit you rushed to the bathroom and locked yourself in to change. Pushing back the shower curtain you saw your body wash and shampoo, the walls still wet from his shower. You couldn’t help but let out an annoyed huff.
Your phone vibrated on the side of the small bathroom sink, sliding across the porcelain and falling into the sink basin. You quickly fixed the straps of your bathing suit and retrieved your phone before the leaky tap could wet the screen.
A video message awaited you from ghost, the image from the thumbnail made you laugh in a choked kind of surprise. He was outside giving you a leather thumbs up, your hot pink string bikini on overtop of his black hoodie. As you pressed play the video was mostly silent other than the nature noises of the background until he flipped the camera around and zoomed in.
A low modified whistle left his lips as his camera focused on the bathroom window, your bare back in the frame for a moment before he shifted the camera slightly to get the mirror in front of you, showcasing your breasts as you changed into your swimsuit.
You swiftly spun around going to the window to scan the area, he couldn’t have possibly gotten too far away. Throwing open the window you stuck your head out and looked to the left and then to the right where Ghost had suddenly appeared, inches from your face.
“Ow! Fuck, agh-“ You yelped, whacking your head on the window pane while he laughed at your expense.
“Hey! You okay?” Luke banged yelled from the other side of the bathroom door.
“Y-yeah!” You shouted back, turning to look inside the bathroom again before turning back around to see Ghost had crouched down, out of view if you were to open the bathroom door.
“What are you doing? You’re takin’ ages.”
“Uh- sorry. Wardrobe difficulties.” You squeaked out, glancing back at ghost who was still wearing your hot bikini bikini top, sans bottoms… which was honestly a bit disappointing. You heard Luke walk off, yelling to your sister that you were probably ‘on the throne’.
“Who is he? The Queen?” Ghost’s mechanical voice came from beneath the mask.
“Close enough.” You shrugged your shoulders and watched as he stood up to his full height, his knees cracking upon the ascent.
“Why did you take my shit Ghost? I wanted to wear that!” Whisper shouting at him while you hung the upper half of your body out the window.
“That’s why I took it.” He said plainly. “I don’t want you looking like a fucking slut out there without me around to keep other eyes off you.”
“Who the hell is gonna see me out here!? You shouldn’t have even seen me out here!” You pointed angrily.
“Shut up, I know you’re happy I’m here.” He snarled, getting right in your face, reaching up to grab your chin. “I heard you last night.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed as if you hadn’t done exactly what he was insinuating.
“I don’t want the girl who moans for me to be ogled at by some fucking frat guys.” He barked, shaking your chin and digging in his leather fingers.
You turned bright pink. You couldn’t argue with his statement. You did moan for him. Under him, over him, even without him.
“What frat guys?” You stuttered, avoiding acknowledgement to the first half of his sentence.
“Across the lake.” He pointed, flicking out his knife to gesture in their direction. “Big group of ‘em. Paid them a visit last night just to check things out, you know I worry about you.” He said in a quieter tone, bringing the blade of his knife to your bottom lip and tapping it with the flat side.
“I would’ve never known they were there if you hadn’t told me.” You narrowed your eyes, speaking carefully as the knife rested against your lip.
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “Or maybe not.”
“What’s that supposed- shit, why?” You flinched and brought your hand to your mouth touching the nick he’d left when he quickly jerked the knife away.
“So you’ll think of me when you’re yapping to some no-count bitch boy from across the way.” He snapped back. His leathered thumb came up to spread the blood across your bottom lip and past it onto your tongue.
“It’s just a bonus that you bleed so fucking pretty.” He pushed your tongue down with his thumb, rubbing the crimson liquid into the squishy muscle, then curling the same thumb behind your bottom row of teeth and shifting his cock in his jeans with his free hand.
“Clean it for me baby?” His modified voice lower than usual.
“No, use your mouth doe.” He chuckled when you reached out to grab the knife from him to rinse in the sink.
“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows but opened your mouth anyway. He placed the blade on your tongue and nodded at you.
“Now suck it.” He grumbled, affectionately patting your cheek twice before using two fingers to push up your chin and close your mouth around the cool steel.
————————————————————————
“What happened?” You sister asked, touching the scabbed line that traveled up your ass cheek and disappeared beneath your swimsuit.
“Well, I just fell.” You muttered, pulling the hem line to cover more of it. “Don’t really know what cut me but it happened a little bit ago.”
“You need to be more careful.” She shook her head, finishing up her job of rubbing in your sun tan lotion. “I swear you’re worse than my toddler.”
“Oh shut up, I am not.” You scoffed, “there’s a difference between something you don’t have any control over and choosing to shove a pebble up your nose.”
“I- that was only one time! When will you let that go?” She asked grumpily. “What am I supposed to do, carry around a fucking periscope so I can see behind me?”
“I’m not- I was kidding.” You sighed, shoving her out in front of you, making her stumble.
You clicked the lotion shut and shook it up, slamming it down on the heel of your hand before putting a generous amount in your palm. You slapped it onto her back and rubbed it in, ignoring the hissing sound she made when the wet glob of sunscreen in your palm smacked her flesh and splattered messily across her skin.
“Caleb is just… an explorer.” Lauren said, trying to make it sound better than it was.
“I never shoved anything up my nose.” Luke chimed in from behind his sunglasses, sitting up against one of the dock posts. “Lauren, you know I was an ‘explorer’.”
“No. You were a bug boy.” You snorted, looking over at him with a little smirk.
“So what? I liked… like bugs. They’re cool okay?” He grumbled waving them off.
“Remember when you had Ants on a Log with actual ants?” You giggled, Lauren crouching down as she let out a guffaw.
“I was seven!” He said defensively, crossing his arms.
“Caleb is two. He can shove a pebble up his nose and it can be excused.” Lauren snorted, catching her breath. “You were seven, you knew better. You have no room to talk.”
“Okay mom,” Luke huffed, you knew without a doubt that he was rolling his eyes behind those glasses. “At least I don’t still pick my nose.”
“Hey! Sometimes you just gotta get up in there.” Lauren pointed at him, a scowl on her face. “Don’t lie, you pick your nose. Everybody does!”
“Uh… I mean I technically pick my nose. Just with a tissue.” You said, supporting your sister in your useless argument.
“So you’re both gross then.” Luke gagged and grabbed his stomach dramatically.
“If I’m gross, so are you.” You said, getting settled on your towel. “Lauren’s right. Everyone picks their nose.”
“You’re both horrible.” He grumbled, shaking his head before standing up and lowering himself into an inner-tube so that he could float on the water.
You all had a peaceful first half of your day, it was refreshing after the hike to relax in the sunshine, letting the heat lull you into a state of calm and the opportunity to think of nothing save for the concentration of singling out different nature noises just because you could. Cicadas, the occasional grunt of a bullfrog, Whippoorwills calling out to each other in the trees, the gentling lapping of the lake against the dock.
None of the city sounds that clouded your head and made it feel cluttered.
It was cleansing, a nice reset for your mental state. Exactly what you needed, exactly what you were so happy to be here for. Now if only you could get some clarity on the difficulty you’d return to after your weekend of being at ease.
Even in peace times nothing is perfect.
The gentleness of the world you’d drifted into was being infiltrated. The distant sounds of a boat zipping through the water at much higher speed that it should’ve, especially with the water skier attached to the towline. What could make it worse? Two jet skis flanked the boat at a good distance away, though it was clear they were all in one group. Shouting and laughing like drunken fools, which you were sure they were considering the way they were behaving.
You licked your bottom lip, reminded of the small nick Ghost had left you with. These must be the ‘no-count bitch boys’ he was referring to earlier. You had to admit, he was definitely right about that. Wrong about your willingness to speak with them though.
You huffed and stood up, deciding now would be a good time to take a refreshing break in the water. The liquid enveloped your skin, the heat of the sun having beat down on you had your flesh soaking up the warmth so much that the water felt cold. In involuntary shiver tickled your spine as you swam over to Luke where he’d floated a way from the dock.
Slowly but surely the boat along with its entourage weaved its way across the water to your side of the lake, you pushed Luke’s inner-tube back toward the dock to give -them- yourself some space.
“Thanks babe.” Luke said, dipping his hand into the water and flicking it at your face.
“Hey! I was trying to be nice!” You scowled, reflexively sliding your hands beneath the tube to dump Luke out of it.
“I could’ve drowned!” He gasped as he resurfaced, taking off his sunglasses so he could wipe the water from his face and shake out his hair.
“Oh whatever, don’t be whiny.” You grinned.
“Me? You’re telling me not to whine?” Luke tossed his glasses up onto the dock and made his way toward you quickly. “All I did was flick you with water and you tried to drown me!”
“I did not!” Squealing as he lifted you up and tossed you farther into the water. How such a scrawny little guy could do such a thing was beyond you, but you had no time to contemplate.
You only had time for revenge. Squinting beneath the murky waters you made your way to Luke, hearing him call out your name in garbled syllables.
Ever since you’d known Luke, he’s had an irrational fear of the tiny possibility that there may be an alligator in any body of water. Didn’t matter how far from the wetlands of the states you were. There was always a slim chance, to him at least.
Holiday Inn pool? ‘But it’s outside, it could’ve crawled in! Will you just check it?’
Tiny dollar-store-bought blow up pool in your backyard? ‘But the creek! The creek’s back there… I’m not going in till you do.’
It got to the point that it was so severe his dad had to come up with a ‘gator gauge’ which was really just a hand-held tennis ball launcher he’d spray painted green and put a ‘gator free’ sticker on the back of so he could prove it was safe. Top-notch, high security, military grade ‘gator gauge’ that doubled as the lazy way to play fetch with their dog.
It was mean. Maybe a bit cruel… but he deserved it. So you swam behind him and put the heels of your palms together, spreading your fingers and creating jaws. You’d disappear from sight for long enough that a hypothetical alligator could’ve dragged you off and you heard Luke call out for you again.
Your lungs started to burn and you knew it was time to enact your plan. Luke stood on his tiptoes in the water, the perfect opportunity to press your fingers and nails into the muscle of his flexed calf. He screamed and thrashed about, you let him go and backed up so you could resurface. You popped up and sucked in a deep breath that turned into a choked laughing fit.
“You little bitch!” He yelled, splashing as he swam at you, pushing you under the water by your shoulders. He quickly pulled you back up and shoved your shoulder. A pink tint to his cheeks from embarrassment, he huffed and splashed a wave of water at you.
“I could’ve drowned!” You mocked him, pretending to cough.
In your short time of distraction the boat and its occupants had cut the engine and let the momentum carry them closer. The jet skis now tethered to the back, the ladder down in the water. Despite the safer option a group of five guys jumped over the side and made themselves at home in your space.
“Hey! How are you ladies?” One of them asked, completely ignoring that Luke was right there with you.
“No soliciting, thanks.” Your sister popped her head up and shook her left hand to show off her wedding ring.
“Whoa, didn’t mean anything like that!” He laughed and his friends agreed. “Just wanted to say hello, see if you guys were up for a drink.”
“I think we’re just fine.” Luke spoke up from behind you.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
“Alright, let’s go.” Sighing you turned around and swam until you were able to touch the lake bottom, walking the rest of the way to the shore.
“Hope you’re going to get some mixers.” A different guy shouted.
“Going to get a restraining order if you don’t leave.” You shot back over your shoulder, earning a round of laughs from them, the opposite of what you’d hoped for.
“C’mon. Don’t be like that! Just give us a chance. We’re good people.”
“Good at ruining my day.” Luke mumbled, following behind me and scooping up his stuff and getting ready to leave.
“You’re going? Serious?” One of them laughed.
“You came over here uninvited, you’re not entitled to our company.” You said, turning around and walking toward the house.
“That may be true but you’ve certainly made up for it by jiggling that ass.” His friends snickered and one smacked his arm.
You reminded yourself that you were here to have fun. Not to argue with a man who has half the brain capacity of a drunk squirrel.
Deciding you couldn’t let them win, you figured you’d beat them in your own way. You continued on without another word, pretending you hadn’t heard them, instead pulling out your phone and sending a simple text message.
‘You were right.’
The answer was an immediate: ‘I know.’
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Diary entry: September 3rd
I hate to say I told you so. But I will.
I. Told. You. So.
I was having a great time watching you, it was reminiscent of how I used to watch you have dinner and I’d eat with you. You’re so cute and playful… I love you so much. I know that Luke is super gay, that’s not why I’m jealous. I’m not worried about that. I’m not stupid and I’m not paranoid, I know better. I’m jealous because it should’ve been me that you were playing around with.
I’m jealous cause you didn’t invite me. I’m jealous that you got to swim and I’m sitting in a tree, soaking my shirt with sweat. I’m jealous that Luke had a beer. I’m jealous that your sister took a nap. I’m jealous that those shit-for-brains tried to talk to you. (I love your sisters fucking comeback though.)
I’m jealous that they got a better look at your sweet little ass than I did too.
I’m pleased that you were so off-put by their behavior that you texted me little doe. What a very good girl you can be, but, oh so good at being bad too. You’re just like me. Maybe I’m making it worse, maybe better. I don’t know, I don’t really care either.
I’m just excited.
My little doe is feeding that flame of deviancy hanging out deep within your stomach. I knew you had it in there somewhere, gods you’re just so fucking perfect. I’ve never felt more lucky. ‘Ghost, I’ve got one more day here. What if they come back?’
What if indeed.
Men can be unpredictable. A woman is safer in a pit of snakes that being alone with a man she doesn’t know. Which is why I try so desperately to protect you especially in situations like this. That delivery guy? He seemed harmless. But I dug a bit deeper and well, he wasn’t so harmless after all.
Now, these boys might be disgusting pigs who prefer to wallow in the squalor and bask in the glory of their custom made beer can wall. They don’t deserve anything too harsh. Also; Wow. It’s amazing how they’ve managed to drink that much and none of them have been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. But back to business, I personally don’t feel like killing anyone. I know for a fact you don’t. I also know that even if I did feel like it, I couldn’t because you’d definitely know it was me. Then what the hell would I do?
You had no good ideas. Which is not your fault, you just can’t think about these things on your own. You need guidance and that’s what I’m here for. So, I settled on something you’ve never done, I haven’t done in a long time, and it’s not technically illegal here… just heavily frowned upon. I hate their shit attitudes, they’re gross and they’ve disrespected you and that’s unacceptable. So a nice little bit of property ‘destruction’ is in order. Middle school memories, how sweet.
TP the cabin? Absolutely. Destroy their beer can wall? Definitely. Silly string their vehicles? Duh.
Fuck you before and after? Yes. Always.
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Part Fifteen
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Tag-List:
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joelsgoldrush · 1 year
Text
come back same time and place the next night
prologue / 3k words
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pairing: dad's coworker!joel miller x f!reader
raiting: 18+ (minors dni)
series summary: your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker are low, but never zero. turns out the two of you have a lot more in common than you thought, especially when you find out he’s going to be staying at your house for a while. you know what they say: if you can’t beat them, fuck them.
series warnings: no outbreak AU, dad's coworker!joel (idk if that's a thing but yeah), lots of feelings (angst/fluff), age gap (reader is 23, joel is 50), no use of y/n, i'm not good at choosing names for side characters sorry for that, some chapters will include smut 18+ and i'll let you know at the beggining of each part
warnings for this chapter: soft!dom joel, oral (m receiving), dirty talk
A/N: HELLO AGAIN i'm back with a new series!!! first of all, i just wanted to say THANK YOU bc of all the love you gave my previous post. i'm so thankful for all the likes, reblogs and comments, you truly made me feel incredibly happy. tbh i used to have a hard time figuring out whether i should start posting my own creations or not, and the support you showed me made me realize that it was definitely the right call. so yeah tysm for that and i hope you also enjoy this new project of mine :) i juIt have one final left and then i'll have a couple of weeks to relax and work on this series! also english isn’t my first language so if you come across any mistake please tell me!
here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)
“Sneaking out of my house / I must be out of my mind / I’m running out of excuses / We’re running out of time / You say the love will come and go / We’ll learn how to ride the ebb and flow / You’ll always leave before the light / Come back same time and place the next night.”
You take another sip of your drink, alcohol making its way through your throat. It leaves a trail of burning kisses down the inside of your esophagus, and you make an effort not to swear as the sensation settles heavily on your chest.
Stacy looks around the bar for a while, her knee impacting rhythmically against yours ever so slightly. Next thing you know, she’s snorting, her blonde hair falling like cascades over her collarbones. “I'm afraid you, my dearest friend, have lost your good judgement. There isn’t a single hot guy in this bar.”
“That’s not true,” your fingers pinch the pink straw floating on your glass, a lipstick stain adorning it. You’re not exactly sure, though. The truth is you aren’t looking for somebody tonight, at least not right now. “Give me a second.”
Scanning your surroundings, you try to concentrate on your quest: finding a new hobby for Stacy. And by hobby, you mean a man she can simp over for the rest of the night. Once you’ve examined the room multiple times without success, you feel… slightly disappointed. 
Just when you’re about to agree with her, this pretty waiter comes on the scene, placing a martini under your friend’s nose. “Here it is. Hope you enjoy it.” 
Oh.
Stacy giggles at him. It’s that specific kind of giggle you know very well. “Thank you, but I didn’t order this.”
“Don’t worry. This one’s on me,” the hot-waiter answers, giving her a smile that’s all white teeth before disappearing between the mess of sweaty bodies on the dancing floor. 
You look at her, because you already know what she will do next. She wiggles her eyebrows in your direction and takes hold of her purse, not without previously drinking almost half of the cocktail she got for free. 
Her forehead furrows in a funny way. “It’s not very good. He’s lucky he’s cute.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” you tell her, ignoring her words. “I’m being serious.”
She leaves and you’re left alone, though you don’t mind the lack of company. The beating of your heart seems to sync with the pounding music from the pub. There’s this one girl doing karaoke, but nobody seems to be actually listening to her. You wonder if she’s aware of it, although she appears not to, because her tone gets even more high-pitched every time she gets to the chorus of the song.
After some minutes, you decide to give Stacy’s drink a try. She wasn’t wrong: the taste of it is absolutely awful. Some muscle in your jaw twitches as you cough a little.
“Is it that bad?” 
You turn to your side, looking for the owner of that unknown voice that startled you. A man stands beside you, pointing out the martini. Leaning in closer to him, you hand him the drink. “Why don’t you try it yourself?”
His cold fingers brush yours gently when he takes the glass into his hands. The straw vanishes between his lips momentarily, and then he proceeds to chuckle. “You’re right. It’s… definitely somethin’ else.”
This must be your lucky night. When was the last time a guy this good-looking approached you? He jerks his thumb toward the empty chair in front of you. “Are you waitin’ for someone?”
You can't help but smile. “Not anymore.” 
The attractive, charming stranger sits down, and you seize the opportunity to take a closer look at his face. You’re not sure of his age, but he’s older than you. He seems to be in his early 40s, the hair on his beard starting to get a bit gray. It’s subtle. If you weren’t such a perfectionist, perhaps you wouldn’t have seen it. But you did, and if possible, it just makes him come across as even more appealing to you.
“If you don’t mind me askin’, why did you order that drink?”
“Well, I didn’t. It was a gift for my friend,” you rest your chin on your palm, giving a half shrug. “She’s with the guy that gave it to her. The blonde girl over there, with the white tank top? That’s her.”
His eyes follow your gaze, finding Stacy just a couple of meters away from where the two of you were talking. She raises one of her hands in greeting, the boy from before attached to her hip like a lost puppy in the middle of the road.
“She seems nice,” he murmurs once he focuses his attention on you again. 
“Yeah, she is,” as you finish that sentence, you feel your phone vibrating in the pocket of your jacket. “Excuse me.”
It’s a text from Stacy. Said message reads: 
whose dad is that??? he’s hot af
You laugh at her occurrence, and he tugs at his shirt collar. “What happened?”
“She texted me: whose dad is that?” staring at him, you lift an eyebrow. “Do you have any children I should know of?”
The stranger seems to hesitate before replying. “No, I don’t,” you watch him lick his lips. “Why? You’re not into dads?”
He's cocky. Good thing you like cocky.
Time flies. You learn some things about him: he’s from Texas (the southern accent gives him away) and works as a contractor (just like your dad, you think, which is funny.) When he reveals how old he is, he seems to look for any sign of discomfort on your features. “I’m forty-five.”
“Twenty-three,” you retort with your own age. He glances up to the ceiling, and you give a bitter laugh. “Is it a problem for you?’”
“Shouldn’t I be the one askin’ that to you?”
You flutter your eyelashes at him. “I don’t mind.” If anything, you like him more. However, there’s one mystery left to bring to light. “What I do mind is that we’ve been here for almost an hour and you still haven’t told me your name.”
He leans back in his chair. “Let's play a game.”
“Be careful. I’m really competitive.”
“You have three chances to guess my name. I’ll just give you my initial. You gotta do the rest, deal?”
What were the odds of guessing it? I should take the risk, you think as you find yourself already nodding your head. “Deal.”
“It starts with the letter J.”
“Jack,” it’s the first name that comes to your mind. For an instant, you believe you’ve won, but then you catch him smirking. “It’s not Jack, isn´t it?"
The corner of his mouth turns up. “Keep tryin’.”
“Josh?”
“Ice cold.”
“Joe?”
Something you're unable to even distinguish glows in his eyes. “I’m givin’ you one more chance.”
“So I’m close?” you ask him, probably too enthusiastic. He doesn’t say anything else, so you go on. “Is it Joel?”
He places a hand on top of his shirt where his heart is, pretending to act relieved. “Fuckin’ finally.”
You punch your fists into the air. “Yes! I knew I was gonna get it.” A sincere smile takes place on your face. “What’s my prize?”
“Well,” he inches forward, his pinky nudging your wrist, that mere touch giving you goosebumps. “You could give me your number and go on a proper date with me.”
God knows you want it. Rising from your seat, you tuck a lock of brown hair behind his ear. “I was thinking of something else.”
That’s how you end up in the ladies restroom, your back flushed against the wooden door as Joel presses his clothed knee between your legs. You moan into his mouth without thinking if there are any other people outside waiting to use the bathroom. Joel draws in a long breath, grinning as he takes in the sight of you. “You wanna put on a show for the others? I'm not one to judge."
“I want to suck you off,” your hand is dangerously close to his crotch, your nails ghosting over his zipper. He seems to be having an internal fight with the last brain cell he has left, but then he detaches himself from you, unzipping his jeans. The sound of his belt hitting the floor with a thud is what finally leads you to fall to your knees.
He’s big. You can tell his size from your position, a wet patch forming into the fabric of his boxers. Playing with the waistband of his boxers for a mere second, your self-control attempts to falter. You grab him by the base, stroking it experimentally. Joel fights back a groan, urging you to take him. “Come on, sweetheart. I don’t like t’beg.”
But you do, that’s the thing. “Please,” you whisper, hoping he’ll hear you. His eyes find yours and suddenly it clicks. A lightbulb goes on in his head. He curses under his breath, directing his dick towards your open parted lips, and your eyelids get heavy as the taste of his precum invades your tastebuds.
It’s not your fault he has an amazing dick.
You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of his length with every one of your short movements. Slick must be already staining your own panties, but you can’t get yourself to care about that insignificant detail. Not now, when Joel’s hips thrust deeper into your mouth, his tip brushing the back of your throat and making you gag. It's dirty, and you should probably be ashamed of getting caught by a bystander. All your worries are swept away from your mind the moment he decides not to keep quiet. “Fuck, baby. Knew you would put that gorgeous mouth to good use. Attagirl, takin’ me so well.”
A stupid whine gets lost somewhere in your vocal tract. Intertwining your fingers with his, you locate his wandering hands on your hair, wishing he'll take the hint. He does, and grabs a handful of it, pulling you off his cock. 
“You really like this, don’t ya’?” Joel smears your lower lip with your spit. “Were you thinkin’ about this while we were talkin’ back there?”
“Y-yes,” you try to take him in your mouth again, but he doesn’t allow you to, his iron grip on your nape getting tighter the more you fight against it.
Then he lets you have it. “Bet you get off on this too,” his voice drops an octave, and it sounds so nasty and intimate you’re on the verge of crying. With teary eyes, you swallow around his length. 
You lose track of time. His bare thighs tremble and the only noise you can hear is his heavy breathing. “F—fuck. I’m close, where do you want it?” Mumbling something you can’t even comprehend with his cock still in your mouth, his thrusts begin to lose finesse, thick fingers holding you where he needs you the most. “So good, baby. Lettin’ me have you like this. Fuckin’—“
He’s about to come.
“—good girl.”
It all happens so fast you have to remind yourself to gulp down his cum, hot and sticky and just Joel’s. You patiently wait for him to come down from his high, nuzzling his happy trail. He helps you stand up, kissing you and tasting himself on your tongue. As soon as he tries to sneak a hand into your panties, getting closer to your aching cunt, you recognize your phone ringing in the distance.
Groaning, you stretch your arm, answering the call. “Hello?”
“Well, hi. This is awkward.”
You frown. Joel mimics you. “I’m sorry, who’s this?”
“I’m calling you from Stacy’s phone. We were making out and then she told me she was feeling sick, so I took her outside… and now she’s throwing up,” the boy on the other side of the line explains to you and you detect a hint of agitation in his voice. “She asked me to contact you.”
“Oh, God. Hot-waiter?”
“Yeah, she also said you were probably going to call me that,” he seems to move his phone away from his ear, and then talks to you again. “She’s not passed out, but she shouldn’t stay here.”
Does he actually think you’re going to leave her alone? “Can you tell me where you are?” you suggest him while Joel tucks himself back into his boxers.
“Next to the parking lot.”
You hang up after telling him you’ll be there in five minutes, and you feel Joel’s lips on your neck, a sigh spilling from you. His teeth nip at your sensitive skin. “You gotta go?”
Humming, you smooth down your skirt, facing the mirror and observing your reflection, some leftover mascara sticking your eyelashes together. He appears right behind you, his broad frame becoming more visible this way. “Stacy’s throwing up. I have to take her home.”
“Do you have a car?” 
“No, but I’ll call an uber. It’s no big deal.”
Joel puts his hands on his hips. “I brought my truck. Let me help you.”
Of course he has a truck. 
“Joel, you don’t have to,” you massage the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. 
“It’s the least I can do,” tilting his head, his lips catch yours once again. “Consider it my way of thankin’ you, since I cannot return the favor.”
It shouldn’t feel like this. You weren’t used to doing this kind of thing on a regular basis, but you’re more than sure that men don’t treat you this way after sucking them off. Still, you accept his offer since it means you’ll get to spend more time with him.
He walks you out and helps you get Stacy on her feet. As she sees Joel, she spreads her arms wide, hugging him. “Oh my God! It’s the hot dad!”
“Sweetie, you have like— puke all over your clothes,” you tell her, so Stacy chooses to hug you instead. “She gets pretty sensitive when she’s drunk.”
“I can tell,” Joel opens the back door of his truck, jerking his head in the direction of it. “Get her inside while I start the car.”
It all goes pretty well from then on. He asks you for Stacy’s address and you give it to him, the palm of his hand resting on top of your left thigh. Stacy gets comfortable in the back seat, yawning. “You two look like my parents before they got divorced.”
“That’s a really nice compliment,” you mutter with irony as Joel laughs by your side, rubbing his chin.
Soon after that, she falls asleep. Joel parks his car right in front of Stacy’s porsche. He glances over his shoulder, making sure she’s still sleeping before his seatbelt’s off and he’s grabbing you by the jaw, leaning in for a kiss. The fucker’s a very good kisser, you notice throughout the night.
“Are you gonna give me your number?” he murmurs against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours. 
“It depends. Will you call me?”
He tells you he will, and you prefer to trust him as you watch him save your number, a smiley face next to your name.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Joel doesn’t call you.
You don’t want to admit it, but it’s starting to get to you. He did sound honest. Why the hell did he treat you like that if he wasn’t planning on calling you? Why did he insist so much on getting your number?
Men suck. Joel sucks, you decide after a whole afternoon of staring at your phone, waiting to receive a text from him. Given the situation, anything would make you feel better.
Hey! It’s Joel, from the bar. I’m so sorry for not calling you. I forgot to tell you I’m married and have three children, two cute little puppies and a cat. Anyways, what a great night we had! Take care!
Okay. Perhaps not anything.
You’re home, sitting on the couch while you watch a meaningless TV programme. It consists of answering random questions, and if you get them wrong, you fall down some dark tunnel that only God knows where it takes you.
Normally, during a night like this, you’d be studying or perhaps at Stacy’s. But tonight, your father had asked you to actually stay. He didn’t tell you why he specifically needed you there, and you didn’t bother to ask him.
Out of the blue, you hear the doorbell ring. None of your parents seem to be on the first floor, so you walk to the door, opening it. 
You choke on your own saliva.
Joel’s here. Joel, who didn’t call you. Joel, who looks absolutely good with his hair slicked back. 
“Did I ever tell you where I lived?” the tone of your voice falters, your legs suddenly feeling wobbly.
He can’t believe it either. “No. I must have the wrong address,” keeping his eyes fixated on the box of chocolates dangling from his hand, he straightens his back. “What are you doin’ here?”
“I should be asking you that,” you hiss, your pupils flared with anger. “Why the fuck are you at my house, with a freaking box of chocolates, when you couldn’t bring yourself to call me?”
Then, you hear the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. It’s your dad. He contemplates the scene with a smile. “I see you’ve met my daughter. Trust me, my wife and I taught her better manners than this. Don’t know why she didn’t invite you in. Food’s almost ready!”
You’re about to short-circuit. Definitely not a joke.
“Sweetheart, this is Joel Miller. Remember I told you last week that someone from the company was coming over for a while? Well, this is him,” your father chuckles, expecting you to come up any kind of answer.
Joel’s faster than you, intending to shake your hand, those same calloused fingers that he had used to touch you in that dirty bathroom now playing dumb. “Nice to meet you.”
If he wants to pretend you don’t know each other, then so be it.
You squeeze his hand without measuring your strength. “Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, sir.”
Turns out that your chances of hooking up with your dad’s soon-to-be coworker were low, but never zero. 
★ ★ ★ ★ ★
tags: @spurz :)
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norman-fucking-reedus · 3 months
Text
Guys I’m thinking about Rick and Daryl fighting, like Daryl is definitely a professional little brother and spends all day wrecking havoc upon Rick (and maybe a few others)
also I know Daryl is a hardcore hair puller. In the bed and in fights. When he and Merle would fight, it was like a second nature for his hands to latch onto to curly hair, yanking the strands and on one occasion knocking his head into a wall
me when rickyl but also brotherhood
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
On the outside, Daryl Dixon was quiet, dark, and mysterious. He was a dusty book that had been closed and locked tight for decades, never opening up no matter who or what tried to pry. Most people would think that he was just one of the ones that never expressed any type of concern or emotion, but really, Daryl’s just a silent person. Until someone he knows pops into the picture.
“Get tha’ fuck off me! Get tha’ fuck off of me!” His voice rang out through the community alongside side Dogs chaotic barking.
People rushed out of their homes at what they thought were very distressed cries, Carol’s bow loaded and almost aimmed as he stepped out onto hers, only frowning deeply when she saw what all the ruckus was.
Daryl and Rick were wrestling in the dirt, the huntersman pinned down underneath the officer in a very uncomfortable looking position. Dog was barking at the two of them, tail wagging in the air as he stood in a playful position, standing over his defeated owner.
“Blah blah blah. You’re just a sore fucking loser” Rick laughed at him, pointing a finger in Daryl’s face, and pulling it away when his sharp teeth clamped down. “Gon’ make mah dog eat you alive” The man grumbled and squirmed.
“Gonna make the walkers eat you both alive” You sighed from where you had approached behind Rick, Dog now eagerly lapping and jumping around you as you too stood over your defeated hunter. “Seriously?” You shook your head and pushed Rick off the man, watching the way he dramatically fell over. “He started it! I was bein’ nice” Daryl frowns, and so does Rick, sitting up to face Daryl who had childishly wrapped himself around your leg. “Nuh uh, no! This asshole tried sticking mud down my pants!” Daryl cackled at the sentence and you knew he was gulity.
“You two are grown ass men” You huffed, shaking your leg slightly only for Daryl’s to tighten his grip. Absolutely wonderful.
“He needs to be put in time out” Rick grumbled, and you wondered if you were getting paid for this. “Time out?”
“Time out?” Carol approached, bow and arrow no longer in hand.
Daryl pointed at Rick, while Rick pointed at him, both men staring daggers at each other. “Him! He fucking started this!”
You share a look with Carol as the men bicker, and it’s quite funny untill you feel a sudden emptiness at your leg, and Daryl is hurling a ball of mud at Rick, who unfortunately catches it with his face. “Now I can really call ya ‘shitface grimes’” Daryl laughed as he climbed to his feet, standing behind you as Rick wiped his eyes clear, immediately locking them on his target.
Daryl doesn’t wanna admit that he didn’t think Rick would just go right around you, yelling when the officer took a swipe at him. “Stop it yew shit eater!” Daryl ran away with Rick hot on his heels, Dog sprinting right alongside them and barking excitedly.
“Can you imagine a small mini version of all that?” You shake your head, smiling softly at Carol. “You have got quite the character on your hands. Clinging to your leg? He must love you” You laughed, peering up the street where they had run off too, a cloud of dirt forming as they tussled, and from Daryl’s very loud screams he was probably getting what he deserved. “Dealing with him? He better love me” You scoff, knowing that your giant manchild loves you more than life itself.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Each press of the cotton to his skin makes him hiss, and he winces at the burning sting of alcohol. “No more fights” You frown softly, tilting Daryl’s head as you cleaned his wounds, gingerly placing bandaids over them. “But he-“ “Yes I know he started it, he also finished it” Daryl pouts, legs swinging off the countertop. You stick a bandage over his nose, and kiss his forehead. “All better. I want you in this house before it’s too dark, okay?” Daryl drops onto his feet, and plants a quick but eager kiss on your lips. “Yes mama” He tosses over his shoulder as he snatches his crossbow off the floor, barreling out the door with Dog. You watched them go, a smile tugging your lips. It faded at the sound of a Rick’s high pitched scream.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
looks around because I dont know what happened and because I really like childish Daryl now and wanna write more
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