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satocidal · 7 months

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𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ “Stacey’s Mom has got it going on” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis: You can’t help eyeing your daughter’s pretty boyfriend when he’s just so sweet, and he can’t help himself either when you’re the best he would ever find.

— word count: 4.2k

— A/n: idk if this qualifies as dc (I don’t think so) but it has like, idk age gap and cheating concepts so take care

— warnings: smut!! MDNI!! Age gap (Gojo is 20 and you’re bordering late 30s); cheating; sort of asshole representative? But how else would something like this work; hair pulling; body worshipping; oral (f! Receiving); dub-con (slightly?); Satoru is a shit boyfriend to your daughter; hinted domestic abuse; mentions of scars; almost subby! Satoru? (There’s no definite concept of who’s dominant- and if satoru then a lot of soft dom); slight spitting; riding; simultaneous orgasm

21-7, Shinjuku 3-chome, Shinjyuku, Tokyo.

He had the address memorised, down to the number of windows in your house and the exact shade of the monotonous white your husband had deemed “minimalist”.

19 he was now, you stood at an elegant 37—arriving in the vicinity at an estimated 5 years ago, your husband’s property, he’d guessed.

Gojo Satoru was 14 when he first saw you, puberty making its way into the young boy’s mind—you did none but encourage the certain downfall in the way you tapped his cheek when he offered to help you in carrying the many bags.

Over the years, Satoru saw you a lot, and also, didn’t at all.

Satoru saw you in the afternoon haze, dealing with the heat—staring obnoxiously when you took off your floral shirts, standing in front of him in those tight leggings and tank tops—but he also saw you at times that you didn’t know about.

And when he didn’t see you physically, you were present on his mind.

At least up until his 18th birthday, you knew of his presence when he would come to meet you.

What had begun as an innocent tap on his cheek for being adorable had developed into an innocent friendship on your accords, smiling wide every few months when he would zoom past your house on his cycle.

The routine was simple then, left-right-right-left, 15 minutes of a way from his house, and there he would be, at your gate—somehow always when you had grocery to carry.

The routine was simple now too, 11 p.m. he would sneak out of his dorm room, a smirk on his face as he used his infinity—making his way into your house, all so quietly, to watch your pretty face as you slept—sometimes even snickering when he caught you being fucked by your husband, snickering at that bored expression on your face, knowing just how much better he could treat you.

He’d never been inside however, general courtesy to be shown, not as a kid—never yet as an adult.

Back then you’d giggled when a 17 year old Gojo had brought his shy friend to meet you, both their cycles parked outside your house as you tended to their boyish smirks, he doubted you’d giggle knowing that the same friend, Geto, was the one he sent your pictures to when he found you sleeping.

But Satoru wasn’t dumb, he knew you’d realise at some point and so, he did what he had to.

In his head, it was all your fault too, so oblivious to everything that he had to choose the second best, your daughter.

“I know she’s like hot and what not but you gotta let her go dude,” Suguru’s voice was a drag—partially dry from all the alcohol he’d consumed.

Satoru’s 20th birthday was approaching, a week left, the celebrations of course had to last a month.

Satoru chuckled beside his best friend—almost wasted he noted—“it’s not like I wanna fuck her or something,” he grinned, he knew wanted to, he knew he possibly couldn’t, “it’s just, I could treat her so much better you know? That stupid little house-”

Suguru smirked, “-don’t bring money into it you pervert,” his eyes bore into his best friend’s, “her daughter ain’t that bad ya know,”

Satoru snorted at that, “which is exactly why I went for her too,”

Just at that, Geto snorted too—mindlessly, shamelessly, both of them.

-ring!!

Slow, both their eyes panned onto Satoru’s phone, ‘my love’ the screen flashed, Suguru snorted again, “Ironic,”

With a roll of his eyes and a short smirk, he shook his head—knowing she’d only be calling because she was needy, at least that’s all he remembered her to be.

“Mmhmm baby, gonna drop by in half an hour yeah? Yeah, yeah, miss you too, bye,”

He always sounded sweet- that was what your daughter rambled about, Satoru Gojo was the sweetest guy ever, and you were glad mostly, a little jealous? You weren’t sure.

It just wasn’t something you ever had.

As Satoru got up to leave though—“you ever let your girl go though, hit me up alright?”

Satoru eyed his best friend with a grin- that was something he could do—“have our own fucked up family eh?”

“Satoru?” You smiled, “long time honey,”

‘For you’, he thought, smiling smugly, “I keep you in well wishes all the time so, not so much Ma’am,”

You chuckled at his words—ever the gentleman he’d been, “that’s adorable, is that how you charmed my daughter too?”

His heart ached at that—only a little however, no, it was all only for you, all the charm—all for his only woman.

Thoughts flashed onto his own girlfriend, he remembered the night well—it wasn’t much, her 16th birthday, he’d just turned 17 too— he’d dropped by, getting you those medicines you’d requested a week or so ago—they were only found near his vicinity, he could only oblige.

Curiosity often killed ended up killing the cat.

He’d racked his brain, he thought of it for endless nights—he didn’t want to accept it, not so easily, not when you made it seem simple.

Each of what you’d asked him to get was a pain killer.

He’d disliked your husband before, but since after, he was sure he hated him.

That night, he’d sat outside your house with your daughter, she was smoking—he was used to it, he hated the smell.

“Aren’t you too young to be smoking?” He’d teased, exactly how he used to Suguru and Shoko—except she didn’t entertain the jokes, never had, never would.

However, before a mean retort could fall off of her lips, a crash sounded all too loud.

Not accidental, Satoru knew that.

He was quick to get up, he was no hero, but his life be sworn if he let you suffer such—a hand held him back.

“Don’t get into it,” she warned, your daughter did.

He didn’t, it wasn’t his place to.

Your husband cheated that night, as he had countlessly, your daughter found her first boyfriend—you wept that night, Satoru’s heart did too.

“Can’t lie I keep a special bank reserved for my uh…mature ladies,” a wink he passed, he made you feel young, alive.

A shake of a head you passed and a knowing laugh.

You noted his lingering gaze, the bruise on your forearm ever present, never you said a word- never him.

The silence engulfing and nauseating.

“Your uh,” his words were rough, “anniversary yeah? Round the corner isn’t it?”

You giggled, almost as if it mattered, “So he remembers? And your own, isn’t it?” A look of slight confusion masked your face, he grinned, “a week after yours, it’s my birthday though, on the same day that is, you always mess it up,”

An apologetic smile you passed this time around, “why, I’m sorry, let me make up by baking you a pie honey?”

A thin smile adorned his face—shaking his head, he ushered you back in, waiting patiently for your daughter to bounce back, to remind him of his reality.

But just as you did turn, “wait, by the way,” his eyes lay stuck upon the bruises you didn’t care to hide, “how’re things going?”

His eyes gazed upon the sheer material of your shirt, “how’s…Mr Y/l/n?”

Almost a sneer, as if, you stared, “perfectly fine, Toru—how’re things with Y/d/n?”

He stared blankly this time around—“perfectly fine Ma’am.”

“Pass me the lighter,”

Satoru stared at his best friend’s outstretched hands—your daughter’s pretty smile as she handed him hers—the same smile that had intrigued Satoru to even look at her, the only feature on her face that resembled you.

“What are your plans for the anniversary?” The words registered in Satoru’s ears—he wasn’t sure who the speaker was, he didn’t exactly care, “I could help around your house,” a mutter, as if unsure to why—but certain that he wanted to.

Cocked brows looked at him confused, “…isn’t it your 20th birthday though?”

He nodded.

“Who wastes their 20th birthday helping around random houses?” Suguru’s tone was almost annoyed, as if he knew—or could’ve guessed why.

Satoru’s girlfriend laughed, “You know he’s screwed a little right? Can’t stop him if he doesn’t want to,”

Satoru nodded again—it gutted him onto how well she bothered to know him—and yet, he perhaps didn’t even bother knowing her favourites most of the time.

“No no,” head shaking, a grimace fell onto Suguru’s face, “pretty boy here can do whatever he wants,” a knowing look they both passed—“but 20s don’t happen again, go big or go home,”

Satoru chuckled, of course he had it all planned out, “I’m going big and going home,”

Another charming smile, another wink—just something you couldn’t become a fool too.

A slight frown rested on your lips, “You sure hon? You don’t have to waste your evening like this…”

It was almost motherly, the way you showed concern—in ways Satoru had barely experienced.

He scoffed, “Time well spent is never wasted,”

“You’re going to mow a lawn baby,” you chuckled, “y/d/n isn’t home either- you know her sleepover- I don’t see how-”

“-anything to please and help you is almost the best kind of work I could do,” you’d have smiled usually, at his words—a tiny flirt you always deemed him—laughing about it to your husband, even though he barely cared.

You didn’t care of it either, an empty marriage, so be it—hollowed from both ends, slow.

But this time, this was different.

This time you’d perhaps bask in his help—no husband to taunt by complimenting little Satoru, no daughter to tease by complimenting little Satoru.

Satoru wasn’t all so little, you realised—your daughter and husband weren’t home—just you, Satoru and his praises.

6 p.m. — 7 p.m. — 8 p.m.

Satoru didn’t remember a time to the when he’d done all so much work for his own mother- but he was content, with a pair of earphones and a creative little mind, he was intent to impress you.

It amused him, to actually how big of a lawn you actually did have—and he wondered at the almost pristine look of it if you managed it yourself.

Even if you did, he would be your helping hand now—he grinned ear to ear as he thought the countless many scenarios.

‘Desperate’ , a little voice in his head called—“my pretty good boy” your voice, the one you used in his thoughts, fought away all doubts.

But all to quick his train of thoughts paused, “you missed a spot there Toru’”

And most of the time, he’d be pissed on to anyone who dared to correct him—with you he’d nod obediently and carry on—but normally, even your normally, you didn’t step out in front of him in just a small, pretty pink towel wrapped around you.

Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes, a decent imagination too—he’d thought about you plenty of times.

Naked, spread open, on your knees, having him between your knees—many and every and any position but absolutely nothing could’ve compared to the way seeing you covered just enough—in a small towel got him hard.

Satoru Gojo had pretty eyes and for a second they were wide as saucers.

His eyes panned onto the spot you pointed at—he had indeed missed a spot—he nodded slowly.

The music rang in his ears—

Stacy's mom has got it goin' on

Ironic.

“I’ll get to it, going for a bath?”

It shouldn’t have been that casual—him asking you your schedule such—you let it be so.

“It’s getting late, want to stay the night? And yeah—yeah, a bath,”

Stay the night.

There the offer lay and his temptation—he watched the careless way you held the towel, all so small that decency was the only thing that stopped him from staring shamelessly at your exposed thigh.

“I don’t know-”

An attempt, simply a stupid attempt to save him and you—“-I insist and what song is that?”

He stared blankly, “Stacey’s mom,”

“How I love that song,”

Of course you did- he watched you walk away as the song continued playing.

Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn?

Your mom came out with just a towel on

I could tell she liked me from the way she stared

And the way she said

"You missed a spot over there"

Down the drain, his character, perhaps yours—then relationships you’d held, everything.

Another nod.

“I’m staying the night Suguru,”

“Hah?!”

An eye roll, an obnoxiously pitched questionnaire, “The fuck? It’s your damn birthday tomorrow—why did you make me get that damn cake?”

Jaw clenched, he stared at the recently mowed lawn—10:00 p.m.

It was too late.

“Better get a taste of her damn pussy if you’re staying the night fucker,”

Satoru shook his head, a smile, “Shut up, talk about her nicely,”

“I’ll talk to her nicely when your girlfriend talks to me nicely when I’m dicking her down, really got yourself a brat huh?”

The smirk was evident in his tone- Satoru wanted to feel betrayed, he couldn’t.

“You’re such a bloody fucker,” he muttered through, “Take care of her,”

“Always have—you take care of her damn mom,”

And he always had too.

10:15 p.m.

He found it simply, weird, that you were in the shower all so long—shaving?

It was your anniversary tomorrow, a loyal wife, a good wife—you’d present yourself well—he thought.

He wasn’t entirely wrong either, was he?

Foggy, your bathroom mirrors stood as you prepared yourself just right, shaven smooth—a guilty heart panged in your chest.

You watched the many scars lingered upon your body, natural, provided—all yours and you doubted it, doubted the mere fact that Satoru would even think about touching you the way you fantasised.

It was wrong—just a fortnight ago and he was the sweet boy you used to adore and having by, just a week ago he was the boyfriend of your daughter that made your relationship all the more insecure, just tonight he was growing into his age.

Head hung back, you stared at the ceiling- so wrong and so right.

Almost melancholic, your train of thoughts was, and his too as he sat by the window of your room—“Please clean these windows too,” you’d said with a smile, breasts pushed together as you held your hand in front of you—the little pink towel did nothing, you knew that.

His hard-on was obvious, you’d had that effect on guys all the time—but then, maybe it wasn’t for you, maybe he just saw the sight and it reminded him of- maybe-

“God~ fuck-!”

Your ears perked up, maybe that was a moan.

Not maybe, it was—it was all too certain a breathy moan.

And before the better judgement was to be passed, there you were, the pink towel wrapped around all the more perversely as you twisted the knob of the door—entering your room to the prettiest sight in a while that you’d seen.

“Satoru?”

Eyes all so wide, the ministrations came to an immediate halt—“Mrs- Mrs- I- shit,”

You watched him scramble about, struggling to get the pants that he’d pulled down to his ankles, back in place—pale cheeks tinted with the embarrassment he held-“I’ll leave right now,” and you knew your figure standing about, almost naked, did not help.

A giggle you passed, “Satoru, it’s fine baby, what’re you so embarrassed about?”

That, he didn’t expect, neither did you.

A low ‘huh’ dropped from his mouth,a hardened cock hanging out for you to ogle at.

“Yes I mean,” you continued, slowly moving towards him, “it’s all…natural isn’t it? You’re a big boy now too,” your voice was sweet as honey, pulling him, reeling him in.

He watched, estranged, as you swayed your hips, moving in, pulling him—pushing him and there he lay in your bed.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“Tell me Satoru,” you whispered, nimble fingers grasping the hem that covered you—“are you all grown up? Still my big boy?”

A silent nod, your towel fell.

A smile etched across your face as you saw his mouth widen-“l-like what you see?”

A slight stutter, you were nervous too—just as him.

And it was entirely a surprise to you then, when his were the hands that grasped your hips rough—flipping the both of you over so he was on top.

Lips attached to your neck—his hands ran wild as they explored every bit of you—“So much, so so much, you’re gorgeous,”

Frenzied moans, hefty touches—it was almost as he’d been dying to touch you—and he had.

His lips moved fast—faster than his fingers, moving across every inch of you—a slight tingle you felt as wet and sloppy kisses he left across your shoulder blades, your hands tugging at the white tuft of his hair.

“So soft,” he murmured against your skin— “so fuckin pretty,” he was skillfull, almost, in the way he managed to completely disregard your needs in the moment.

Not a single brush of his fingers or crotch against your pussy—a tease.

You wanted to cry, pleasure hit you hard—and in the way he lingered seconds too long upon every scar that your husband had given you, at every bruise that you held—in the way he handled you so carefully, not as if you were fragile but as if you were his desire personified.

“Tell me, Satoru,” you snickered, at the breathy moans he let out, “how long have you waited for this,”

“Forever,” he breathed out—the crystal blue eyes finally met you then, “God forbid I just- please, please let me?” A whine he let out still, so desperate.

“Always this needy hm?”

He shook his head fast, “Only for you,”

And you knew that just there he was begging all so easily.

“Please- ple-ase,” his voice was a drag, as if afraid that he’d lose this moment all so soon, “please let me…let me touch you- feel you,”

A twinkle in your eye, “if you’re good, yeah?”

He bobbed his head at that- “on your knees for me baby,”

And that he did, so obedient, “Show me how much you’ve yearned,”

It was a dynamic, if anything—you held the control surely, and you lay naked too—sprawled out as your head rested upon the pillows steadily, his between the plush of your thighs.

An airy gasp you let out as you felt him spit upon it, “fuck you’re glistening,” he whined, “So wet from just the thought of me?”

You felt his fingers spread your folds out, he felt so cold against the warmth of your pussy, “Didn’t even need me to spit huh? But had to mark you didn’t I? Remind you that I am the one who gets you this way- has your husband ever gotten you this way huh?”

His words seemed almost feral, a growl with every word as he kept lowering his head— he focused upon your clit.

Your legs lay spread wide open for him, one his hands resting upon your thigh, rubbing soft soothing circles—while the hand finger fucked you.

His finger slipped in so easily, a groan both of you let out together, “so fucking warm I- your pussy’s pratically begging to be ruined,”

You squirmed at his words—already dumb at the way his middle and ring finger pumped inside of you,

“More please,” you moaned out, “need more,”

A smirk he held as he lowered his lips, nipping at your pussy lips, “More what Ma’am? More of what hm?”

A loud whine you let out at his word- “Fuck Toru’ not tonight, please just touch me—want you,”

Enough encouragement, in fact it was all he needed before landing his tongue flat upon your clit, swiping it back and forth upon the little nub.

“Scream my name please,” rough hands pulled at your legs—resisting you from closing your legs—“Arch your back and scream my name, let your neighbours know I’m the one in your silly fucked marriage that gets you so worked up and not that fucker,”

His words barely registered in your head—thrashing at the liable pleasure he held onto you, “Sh-it Toru’ I- right there! Yes please,”

He grinned as he looked up at your face briefly, before diving right back in, suckling at your hardened clit as his fingers prepared your cunt to be ruined by his cock.

“God I should film you being so needy for me,” another groan as his tongue lapped upon your core—“should teach em how to please the perfection you are,”

You whimpered at his words, eyes rolling back at the way he provided just the right kind of pressure- until you weren’t.

A loud whine and groan as he pulled out of your cunt, he grinned, “Want you to cum on my cock when you do — wanna feel you clamp down hard,”

You looked into his eyes, hesitant? Neither of you.

“Taste yourself,” and before you could pull away, shoved into your mouth were his two fingers as you sucked onto it—“Fuckin’ delicious,” he muttered as he pulled away the fingers too.

Needy, he wanted you needy.

Slow, he moved about, rising about and pulling you with him as he kissed your arms—“someday, I’ll leave such pretty marks on you, those are the ones you deserve,”

You bit your lips hard- he did too, as you straddled his lap—“please,” he whimpered and you giggled, “how many times do you think about this?”

All the time.

Any and everytime he was alone, just you on his cock bouncing to chase your euphoria.

You cupped his face as you stared at him, such a pretty innocent look he held—you grinned devilishly as you lined your entrance upon his tip.

"yeah. 'think about it a lot. want you to use me, please, just have me. i'm y — ohhh god, oh fuck me, y-yes please — fuck i'm yours!" his words, bound to be a mess now that you've lowered yourself to meet level with his cock.

It throbbed inside you, it looked so pretty, when you imagined sucking on it— with that curve you always felt pressing against your walls when he would be balls deep inside your pussy- just as now.

“Tell me Toru,” you but down in your lips hard, red, “how many times do you think?”

He gulped hard as he watched you move, unable to hold himself as your warmth spread all over his cock, “J-just some- sometimes, when I- I miss you, when I c-can’t get enou- oh god- can’t get enough,”

He moaned softly, head fallen aback and eyes shut close as you rode him slow, rolling your hips—it took your all to just not give in and fuck yourself dunb over his cock.

“In the shower…after- after practice,”

You giggled at his words, oh how you felt like a filthy girl in the moment, “all sweaty and dirty? Think bout fuckin me in shower?”

“Yeah…” his voice lay a rasp, “think bout you when I’m alone,”

Your words, actions—he was dizzy with pleasure, legs squirming beneath you—toes curling in pleasure and hips stuttering as he reeled in for more.

“Think of you when I fuck your daughter too,” and just at that he thrusted harshly into you, gripping your hips as he moved you fast—“you’re too slow,” he grunted.

A low moan escaped you at his words—him too.

Filthy.

Wrong.

You didn’t care.

"d-you think of me too, when- when you can’t touch it? When it- it d-doesn’t feel right?" his question almost sounded innocent, eager to hear your response.

"Course’ i do. think about my pretty boy all the time. i miss this cock so bad sometimes, 'can't get off the same with any of my toys."

He groaned at that—you could feel him twitching inside you.

11:55 p.m.

You weren’t sure when or how you lost all that time- it didn’t matter.

It was your anniversary in 5 minutes and his birthday.

Your hands grabbed his face and pulled him close—your boobs thrusted into his face, “cum with me ok? Hold on just a pretty while yeah?”

Your words were a lullaby to him, he nodded mindlessly, attaching his lips onto your nipples, swiping his tongue over your nipples.

Your soaking cunt engulfed his cock as you bounced upon it, head hung back as you chased your high—his hands kneaded your skin—one pinching your nipples while the other massaged your ass.

If you could, you’d have seen the adoration in his eyes as you fucked your self onto him—breathy moans and shy grunts, the smell of your sex wafted through the air.

Just another minute.

“S-So good to me-” He stutters, nails latching onto your skin to bounce you more aggressively on his cock as his flustered state slowly dissipates.

So close, both of you—a babbling mess underneath you,Satoru was purely pussy drunk—and just like that, the clock strung 12:00 a.m.

You both drew each other’s orgasm.

You stay there on top of him for a second, panting and heaving you both lay—nuzzling as his fingers drew circles on the small of your back.

Circles, you weren’t aware, those circles were actually his name crafted carefully upon your skin for he knew you were finally his.

“You good?”

A slight smile on your face as you asked him, he lay beside you in your bed—“Happy Birthday Toru,”

“Best birthday I’ve had,”

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

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— Taglist: @illogicallyx @rizzmin @immurrsed @bbytamaki @abitoldschool

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dollwrites · 1 year

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‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dub con, fem!bride!reader, kidnapping / forced domestication, loss of virginity, mentions of murder, blood and threats against reader, objectification / mild degradation, size kink, forced breeding kink / creampie, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ sex doll by nathan james

your instructions were all very clear, and very specific, but you found yourself struck speechless when he appeared. lightning scattered webs of silver across the night sky, thunder shook the entire mansion, and then he was standing there, on the balcony, just outside the crystal doors. your breath caught in your throat as he stares inside, dark eyes zeroed in on you, and one hand reaches for the latch. a gust of wind catches the unlocked glass and flings it inwards towards you, banging against the wall— the hinges creak, but hold. you flinch, startled, and stumble back, but he’s inside and across the room to stand before you in the blink of an eye, without so much as time to allow a droplet of rain from his inky tendrils to fall beforehand.

“I recognize you.”

he must; the pearly white chiffon of your gown was tattered and stained a muted rust— dried blood. what had become of your veil or your shoes were unbeknownst to you, forgotten when you hid underneath the altar and clamped a hand over your mouth to not alert the mass murderer of your presence whilst he slaughtered the entire wedding party.

of course, he’d been privy all along, and simply bent over to peek inside at you once he was finished. black eyes were devoid of any remorse, but he didn’t try to reach and pull you out, or kill you. he simply stared for a moment or two, probably listening to the sound of you sobbing and begging him not to hurt you, and then straightened without so much as a whisper, and left.

it wasn’t until after you’d crawled out and witnessed the carnage that you’d been taken.

you hardly hear it— the savage thumping of your nervous heart much too loud in your ears, as is the way you suck in a desperate gulp. “I— I—“ think, dammit. but, where had your thoughts gone? had they, along with your ability to breathe, been stolen?

“Who left you in here?” the assassin’s expression wasn’t soft, but it was understanding. as if he knew that someone as meek as you would have trouble being this close to him. yet, still expectant of answer. “You didn’t make it to my bedroom by yourself.”

“Your f—father.” you don’t recognize your voice when it leaves your lips, it’s much too soft a whisper. then again, there was no need for you to be any louder than that; he was so close that you could smell the fresh rain in his hair. “He says…” the words Silva used were embarrassing and horrible, but you were told to recite them verbatim. and so you do. “He says that since you didn’t finish the job, he kept your compensation. The only payment you’re allowed is…” your voice was starting to shake.

“You.” Illumi finishes for you, staring down with an unreadable, abysmal gaze, and his head slowly tilts, as if he’s starting to understand, or, perhaps, ponder the possibilities. “Hm.”

you’re relieved for some reason, when he turns away and struts to the other side of the room. you feel like you can breathe for a moment while his back is turned.

but only for a single moment.

because that oxygen is wrenched away from you the second he peels out of his wet shirt, allowing it to fall in a damp heap on the floor. “W— what are you—“ your cheeks were hot, but you felt as though your feet were frozen solid to the floor, unable to move even an inch, you watched him undress. your eyes grazed over the dips in his abdomen when he turns, partially, to face you. each pad of muscle is blanketed artfully in ivory flesh with ribbons of rain dribbling from the raven tips that cascade over his shoulders and tickle his belly. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing.” he said, incredibly simply. you could see that much. but, you were more concerned that he was doing it right in front of you. his hands fall to his waistband, and he makes short work of it, allowing his trousers to join the other garments. this is when you look away, when he’s stark naked. you want to hide behind both hands, but you’re much too in shock to command your muscles to move. “You’ll be expected to get used to my naked body if you’re going to be my pet.” you feel a tight, cold grip around your wrist and the need to jerk back overwhelms you, but he’s stronger and holds you there. when did he cross the room to come back to you? it didn’t matter; it seemed like when Illumi moved, he did so on clouds. he was silent and quick. guiding your trembling fingers to his abdomen, he presses your palm flat. you can feel the solid muscle that’s been built over years of harsh training beneath his skin.

“P—pet…” you whisper, hopelessly.

“If you prefer bride, I can call you that.” Illumi offers, flippant, and drags your hand down to his sex. the suddenness in which he forces your fingers to envelop the girth of his soft cock elicits a whimpered protest, one that has him twitching against your fingers. “It makes no difference to me. Property is property.” for a while, Illumi allows your fist to rest there, giving you time to familiarize with the sensation of him in your palm. he didn’t even force you to watch— not minding that you kept your eyes closed tight and your chin tucked into your chest. “How should I have you first?” inquiring aloud, Illumi takes hold of your fingers and glides them up the length of his cock, pressing the tips against the sensitive slit, and snorts through his nose in approval, before pushing your hand back down to his base, guiding you into a steady, stroking rhythm that had him hardening against your palm. “Should I put you on your knees and have you worship my cock? Etch prayers into it with your tongue?”

your cheeks were even hotter now, teeth sinking into your plush, lower lip as you shied away from his words. you knew he was watching your reaction, and he must’ve read it instantly. “I’d have to teach you, I suppose,” he replies, as if mildly disappointed, “and I’m in no mood to tutor right now. he lets out a soft sigh, releasing your hand, “it would be easier to put you on your back.” your hand slows to a stop, eyes opening wide when you realize his intentions, and his now rock hard cock throbs in your fist. both of his hands came up to frame your face now, tilting it up, forcing you to stare into his obsidian gaze. “I didn’t tell you to stop stroking.” he croons, and the atmosphere around you felt like it weighed a ton, bearing down on your shoulders. you were locked in his stare, with his lips moving inches away from yours, but you found the will to pump him again, your couplet trembling. “It would be very stupid for you to disobey me,” he purrs, and takes a daunting step closer, forcing you to back up. and another, and then another. “I’m glad you know that, at least.”

he had grown in your hand, and now his cock was thick and solid, and it took both hands to wrap around him. Illumi took a final step towards you, and when you stumbled back this time, the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed and bent; you clamored backwards on to it. there was a split second where you worried that Illumi’s cock would slip from your hands, but he was right there, climbing atop the mattress and atop you, before you had time to think. his hands never even slipped from your cheeks, until his knees pried a gap between your legs that he could fit into.

“Hold your legs open.”

grateful that you could stop stroking, your hands fled to grab on to your thighs, spreading them apart with shame written over your features. you couldn’t look at him any longer, and turn your head against the pillow.

Illumi blinks, one brow quirking, before flipping the skirt of your gown up on to your belly, exposing your panties. you were embarrassed to admit that you could feel the wet patch that had grown against the cotton even before he pressed the cold pads of his first, two fingers against it. you whimper, and writhe. “Wet already?” he asks, rubbing against the fabric until you tremble and start to inch up the mattress, desperate to get away from the sensation, but one hand grabs your ankle and jerks you back down to him in a swift, rough motion. your dress scrunches up around your waist. “Stay put.”

you know better than to fight against it, even when he wrenches your panties down, but your heart is revving like an engine, your breath hard to catch. you’re so afraid that this man, this murderer, is going to damage your body simply because he can. that he’ll hurt you in the most intimate ways possible, and there would be no one to save you from his cruelty.

“Look at it.”

you could feel the broad, pink tip, prodding against your virgin netherlips and you gasp for air, but turn your head slowly back towards him. you didn’t want to look. you didn’t want to see your assault happen. but you do because you don’t have another choice. “P—please…”

Illumi doesn’t push himself inside just yet. holding tight at the base of his cock, his hips only hardly jut forward, applying enough pressure for your folds to spread. then, he starts in a nonchalant, but certain voice. “I’m going to fuck your little pussy deep, and hard.” you didn’t even realize you were shaking your head, but you stared at his size, nervously. you couldn’t imagine that thing fitting in your body, but he continues, as if solidifying his threats. “You’ll feel every, single inch. You can scream as loud as you want, cry as much as you want, but you keep your legs wide and accept me. Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you. If you don’t, your stay here will shorten tremendously. Nod if you understand.”

you can’t look up at his face, eyes glued to the manhood ready to split you in half, and you swallow hard around the lump in your throat, before you give him half a nod. you can do this, you tried to tell yourself. it’ll only hurt for a second.

when he forces it inside, you lose your breath completely, yelping when, inch by inch, the thick cock disappears. there’s a sharp, sudden pressure in your depths, and you know this must be the severing of your innocence. “If you get any blood on my sheets, I’ll wrap them around your neck and squeeze.” he mutters, low and threatening. you knew he wasn’t lying.

you mewl, and your nails sink into your own, fleshy thighs to grip tighter. you don’t want to break any of his rules. Illumi moans, for the first time, when he’s completely nested to the hilt, one hand reaching for your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, thankfully, but he grips it to pin you against the bed, while the other gropes your breast through the ivory bust. he’s still staring, watching how you flinch and whine as you struggle to accommodate him. “You’re a tight, little thing.” he doesn’t sound particularly happy or disappointed by the fact, but he punctuates the statement with a strong rock of his hips, slamming himself home. your back arches, and you cry out, mouth hanging slack, at just how much force was behind each slow, deep thrust.

he hadn’t been bluffing.

you could feel every, thick inch as your walls stretch and spasm around him, flittering wildly against the pulsing veins that bulge and scrape against your sensitivity. his bulbous tip pummels knotted nerves relentlessly until you feel tears well up in your eyes. whether it’s pain or pleasure, you can’t tell the difference.

Illumi starts to look, and sound, more human with each thrust— his lids sag low, his jaw works, and he snorts through his nose. you could even see a faint twinkle of perspiration against his temple. he’s hunched forward, hovering above, pressing his forehead to yours. his wet hair draping over you like a black curtain, engulfing you in his scent, making it hard to see anything except what he wanted you to. which was him, decimating you. “You look pathetic, bleary eyed and whiny,” he started, his breath in warm puffs against the cold tears on your cheeks. each word seems is separated by the sensation of him pounding into you, the sound of his body slapping against yours, and your own slick squelching hideously. “But you’re still taking it.” he almost sounds… impressed? “Your little pussy is stretched to her limit, but she’s still milking me. Who could’ve known? Behind those tears, there’s a cock-starved, little fuck doll?”

it was humiliating, degrading, but for some reason— you only clenched around him tighter. you only felt yourself get wetter when his hand careens upwards to grasp your face, keeping it steady as he bullied your guts. your mouth hung open, and just as you’d been given permission to, you let out a lilting shriek. your legs were starting to shake. but, you could also tell that something was building inside of Illumi, too.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.

realizing he had no intentions of pulling out, you squirm, and your hands fall between your bodies to press against his taut abdomen, whimpering a breathy, “Please— don’t— not… inside…”

but Illumi didn’t stop. he didn’t pull out. he rammed into you just as hard, and your breasts jiggle against the sagging neckline of your dress. you croak, hoarse, and stare up at him, squinting against his cruelty. “You’re my bride, aren’t you?” he croons, dark eyes expecting ( and receiving ) a submissive, yet reluctant nod. “Then act like it. Beg me to breed you.”

sniffling, your nails barely scrape at his flesh, and you gurgle a soft and pathetic, wet eyes full of protest, “P—please… breed me… Cum in me… please, Illumi—“

Illumi groans in approval, a wicked smile spreading across his tiers when he comes undone. both of his hands wrap around your throat now, and he buries himself as deep as he can force to pump you full of his warm release. even as you snub and squirm and gurgle, you can feel how full you are of him, and it’s a sickening feeling.

he’s released you a few moments later, favoring his side of the massive bed, and you remain on your back, legs open and quivering, core feeling hollowed out and sore, for a while before he murmurs, “You’ll need to tend to my wet clothes, and do away with that tattered dress, before you can rest.”

blinking, you take a couple of breaths before slowly closing your legs. the muscles are aching, and you have to do everything at a snail’s pace, including pulling yourself off the mattress. when your feet hit the cold, hard floor, your knees want to buckle. you’re wobbly at best, one hand gripping your lower belly as you let out a whispered cry discomfort. the bridal gown hangs askew on your body, now stained with more than just blood and sweat, and you stumble, awkward on your own, two legs, over to the pile of wet clothes. gathering them all up, you hug them close to your chest and turn to look at him, meek and bashful. how hopeless you must appear to him in this moment. “What do I… what do I do with them?”

Illumi looks at you, unblinking, and runs his fingers through his hair as he props up on his elbow. he’s shameless in the way he’s splayed, nude across the bed, his soft cock draped over his thigh. “The butler will meet you at the door, he’ll show you the laundry and where to bathe and dress.” he tilts his head, watching you stumble, still disoriented and uncertain, towards the door. you can’t really see it in the dark, but there’s a faint fondness in the depth of his eyes. “Hurry back, too.”

curious, you nibble on your lower lip and push the door open. just as he’d said, a tall man clad in a crisp suit is waiting on the other side. there’s a glimmer of distaste for how filthy you are as he sees you, but it’s gone in an instant as he grabs hold of your elbow, none too gentle. you look over your shoulder at Illumi, and blurt out before the man can drag you away, “Aren’t you worried I might r— run away or something?”

the worst part about Illumi’s smile is that his eyes turned icy and diabolical when his lips curved upwards; the two counterparts didn’t match. “And go to whom?” he asks, taunting, before adding simply because he could: “I killed everyone that knew or cared about you already, remember?”

#illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #illumi x you #illumi smut #illumi zoldyck x reader #illumi zoldyck x you #illumi zoldyck smut #hunter x hunter #hunter x hunter x reader #hunter x hunter x you #hunter x hunter smut #hxh #hxh x reader #hxh x you #hxh smut

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owliellder · 8 months

Text

Loving Takes Time

Leon Kennedy x afab Satyr Hybrid! Reader

MDNI 18+

Trigger Warning for the nature of the content

Description: Leon goes with Chris to just look at hybrids up for adoption, not really expecting to bring such a strange one home.

Warnings: Not proofread, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Major Size Difference and 5-Year Age Difference, Leon is a PERVERT but he's still gentle 🫶

Tags: One-shot, Female Reader uses she/her, No use of y/n, Leon is 5'11", Reader is 4'0", Virgin Reader, Smut, Somnophilia, Picture Taking, Lactation, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Cowgirl Position, Belly Bulge, Dirty Talk, Ass Play

Words: 8.9k

Author's Note: Okay now I know this is a pretty strange/questionable one, but I've had this idea in my pocket for awhile and, once again, this is pure self-indulgence because if I could be ANYTHING in the world I would be a satyr 😭 They're the cutest little scampers!!!

Please forgive me for my transgressions 💔 I honestly felt so guilty writing this even though a lot of these tags reflect me (please don't hate me)

Cross-posted onto AO3

"I'm serious, we're just going to look!"

"Chris, 'just looking' always leads to either you or me getting something." Leon emphasized with hand quotes, giving Chris an incredulous look.

Both men were sitting in Chris' car that was parked in the relatively empty parking lot for the Hybrid Adoption Center. Leon had expressed *once* that he thought having a pet would be fun, but he knew a pet would be hard to manage with his field of work. He'd been partially aware of hybrids, yet he was less than convinced on the idea of having what was essentially a pet person.

"Look, I know. I get it-" "I don't wanna hear it. We're just here to look." Leon cut Chris off, waving his hand dismissively before opening the passenger door. "Even on the off chance I find one that I like, I'm in no way prepared to bring them home." He slid out of the car, Chris following suit. The older man followed Leon around the front of the car, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "Alright, alright.. Whatever you say, ya big grouch."

If Chris hadn't had to make an appointment to see the hybrids, then Leon would've found any excuse not to come. He did try, don't get him wrong, but Chris is notoriously persistent. A worm in his ear.

Once the two had made their way inside the adoption center, Chris confirmed his appointment to visit with the hybrids with a nice old lady who happily greeted them from the front desk. "There's still a couple in the back looking, but I'll let them know their time is up. Give me just a minute-" she quickly stood up and walked out from the front desk and into the back kennels.

Good. A little time to look around. Leon thought to himself with a small hum, moseying around the front room. He carefully looked at the various items; clothes, leashes, collars, bags of food, toys, treats, everything. He had a feeling that he was going to end up with some random puppy hybrid today, so it was worth it to look at all this ahead of time.

After only a few minutes, the old lady returned with the couple, nodding with a smile as they promised to come back once they'd made up their mind. Leon silently wishes Chris would give him the luxury of choice like they had.

"Leon! C'mon, let's go!" Chris happily exclaimed, only to be shushed by the lady. Apparently most of the hybrids are pretty sensitive to the sound as it echoes back in the kennels. At least the older man listened to someone here. "Lead the way." Leon held his hand up, letting Chris walk in front of him through the door to the kennels.

What they walked through were the puppy hybrids first, probably the most popular. And the noisiest. They were super excitable, which was undeniably cute, but at the end of the day Leon wasn't looking for a high-maintenance pet. He needed one with self-sustainability, and preferably one that wouldn't smother him either. The last thing he wants is to feel guilty every morning leaving for work. So a puppy hybrid? Out of the question.

Chris was quietly ooging out over every single hybrid they past, all the way through to the quieter kitty and bunny section. All cute, a cat hybrid seemed to be most aligned with what Leon wanted. None of them really caught his eye, though.

Near the end of their little walkthrough, Leon decided to look through the puppy kennels one last time, furrowing his brow when he noticed an empty kennel in the back. It being empty isn't what confused him, it was the kennel card still hanging on the chainlink fence that did it.

Making his way over, he carefully studied the card. No picture and a pretty vague description was provided. A... goat? They have a goat with the puppies back here? Reading on, he noticed that it said you were twenty-five years old, five years younger than he was. Guess you'd been there at the shelter for awhile too.

You weren't in the main kennel area, though. Probably hiding in the back. It was strange they had you with the puppies, they were so barky, but maybe they had no other place to put you? That's the most reasonable explanation.

Chris noticed Leon looking at the empty kennel with pursed lips, walking up behind him with crossed arms. "Out of everything here, you zero in on the kennel that has nothing in it?" Leon turned to face Chris, responding with a simple "... there's a goat in there" before going back to trying to see through the small square hole at the back of your kennel that led to the employee-only side, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

"You're joking. A goat?" Chris raised an eyebrow, pushing Leon over to the side a bit so he could read your kennel card as well. "Aren't those for farms or something?"

"Yeah, I thought so too.." Leon hummed, crouching down next to Chris' legs as he continued to try and look through the hole. The old lady from the front desk soon made her way back to tell the two men that their time was almost up, only to find them studying your kennel.

"She's a shy one." She spoke up with a smile, alerting both men of her presence. "Hides when people come through the door, but she is easy to entice with a little snack?" The old lady noticed Leon seemed most interested and decided to bend down as best as she could to hand him a small peppermint candy.

"Okay..." Leon seemed a bit confused yet accepted the peppermint anyways, tossing it in his hand a couple times before slotting it through the fence. It didn't take long for you to appear, poking your head out through the square hole with your nose sniffing away. Perky goat ears and small curled horns, seemed standard enough.

It wasn't until you very cautiously stepped out, eyes on the three standing in front of her kennel that Leon seemed more interested than before. From your hips down you had fur, full blown goat legs that ended with the daintiest little hooves. He noticed your tail once it wagged a couple times at the scent of the peppermint. It made him crack a smile. Now that's interesting!

"Oh wow, she's..." Leon started to speak, his voice quickly trailing off as the suddenness must've started you. "Yes, she's a bit more 'animal' than the rest. The livestock usually are." The old lady seemed to know what he was going to say. It must be confusing to a lot of people.

"Small, too." Chris chimed in, arms still crossed as he looked down at you, watching you crouch low and stretch your arm to reach for the peppermint to avoid getting any closer to the chainlink fence.

"A pygmy goat. Regular goat hybrids tend to be a foot taller, but she's only about 4 feet. Very small little lady." The old lady chuckled softly, watching you scurry back through the hole to hide after successfully grabbing the peppermint. "I can take you into one of our meeting rooms if you'd like to get a better look?"

Before Leon could respond, Chris decided to just accept the offer for him, laughing as he watched the other man's face fall with annoyance. "Oh come on, don't be so sour." Chris firmly grabbed Leon's arm and hoisted him up from his crouched position before nudging his forward. "Lead the way, miss."

The colorfully painted walls of the meeting room were rather welcoming as both men wandered in. On the back wall sat a bench with some old cushions and blankets sitting on the seat. Chris took the liberty to sit down while Leon leaned against the wall next to it, grumbling quiet nonsense to himself.

The old lady excused herself to go retrieve you from your kennel, leaving Chris to poke fun at Leon for his sudden interest for only a moment before she returned with you on a lead.

She was right, you were small. "Alright, sugar, easy now." You were also very obviously nervous, hiding behind the elder woman's legs as she walked into the room with you. She gently pet the top of your head, fixing a few strands of your hair that got stuck wrapped around your tiny horns. "Just remember to move slow with her and you'll have the perfect little lap pet."

The old lady's voice was soft as she slowly made her way over to Chris, handing him the end of your lead as he nodded in agreement. You tried to follow the lady as she walked back out of the room only to be stopped by the lead, causing you to start whining with your ears pinned to the sides of your head as you stared at the now closed door.

"Hey," Leon was crouched down again, clicking his tongue to try and get your attention, "hey it's okay, she'll be back soon." You whipped your head around to look at him, freezing where you stood as you watched Leon reach a hand out. You sniffed the air a bit, staring both men down, almost as if you were sizing them up.

"Pretty cute, huh Leon?" Chris whispered. He was really laying it on thick and as much as Leon hated to admit it, you were growing on him. "Here, sit down on the bench and I'll give you her leash." As he spoke, Chris scooted to the side more to make room for the other man.

After carefully standing up to not scare you, he sat down on the bench next to Chris, taking the loop on the end of the lead as it was offered to him. Leon was a little nervous only because you were nervous, what if you bite?

It took some time, but with a lot of gentle coaxing and few extra peppermints provided by the old lady, you were soon standing in front of Leon's legs, chin resting on his knees as he scratched behind your left ear. During that time Leon had introduced himself to you, and though you didn't respond, your ears perking up to listen was enough confirmation that you heard him.

"You're breaking." Leon frowned at Chris' remark, eyes locked on your relaxed face. He could just barely see your fluffy tail wagging, moving his hand around to lift your head up as to scratch underneath your chin. The second he heard that happy little chitter from the back of your throat he knew it was over.

Chris gave a small 'oh' when he noticed Leon's smile forming. "You broke." The younger man only sighed in response, now using both hands to massage your furry ears. "I'll go get that lady." You jumped slightly when Chris suddenly stood, but Leon was quick to distract you with another peppermint.

The paperwork to take you home was relatively simple, thankfully. Leon took every recommendation from the elder lady about what items to buy, along with taking the blanket that was kept in your kennel. Something that already smelled like you would help ease you into a new home, or so he was told.

You were surprisingly easy on the ride home, both men staying quiet with the radio playing low just in case you panicked. Chris helped Leon set up all your stuff before bringing you inside, leading you over to where your blanket was laid out in the medium sized cage now set up in the corner of Leon's living room. You stayed in the cage as the men said their goodbyes, now left alone with Leon.

He gave you time to settle, only choosing to react to you once he noticed you quietly crawl out from the cage and begin surveying the living room from where he sat on the couch. "Hey there, little lamb."

His voice startled you slightly, making eye contact with him for a brief moment before offering him a shy smile. "Hi.." You whispered back in response, looking around as you slowly stepped over to Leon. He hadn't heard you speak until now, so this hopefully meant you were growing more relaxed around him.

"Quite the change." Leon hummed and you only nodded, looking off to the side as you rested your chin on one of his knees again. "It's a lot quieter here though, yeah?"

"Yeah..." Your voice was so sweet, even if just a whisper right now.

"Good." Leon cooed, reaching down to rub your ears. "How ya feeling?"

You shrugged, eyes still darting around the room even as they became lidded with the gentle caresses on your ears.

"What about a bath?" You looked back up into his eyes at the suggestion, eyebrows raising up. It had been awhile since you were given a bath..

Your reaction must've been enough as it prompted Leon to stand up, bending down a bit to hold onto your hand before leading you up the stairs and to the bathroom attached to his bedroom.

Luckily most of his living room and the bedrooms were carpeted, so he didn't have to worry about you slipping there. The tiled kitchen and bathrooms were another story as you immediately slipped with a yipe once stepping into the bathroom, furry legs shaking as you held yourself still as best as you could in an awkward half-splits position.

The man lifted your arm up above your head by your hand, lifting you up a bit in the process so you could reach the rug in front of the bathtub without anymore risk. "I gotcha, kiddo. Don't panic."

He kept one hand on the top of your head as a single to stay where you were while he turned the bathtub faucet on, plugging the drain once the water was warm enough. He was directed to buy a specific soap for you, so he used that to create some bubbles in the bath in hopes of giving you a little bit of fun.

You were carefully lifted up and into the water as soon as it was ready and the faucet was turned off, sighing softly at the warmth. You were always so anxious in the shelter which meant your muscles were always stiff. This was a nice change of pace.

"Wash off that shelter stink." Leon chuckled when you closed your eyes, sitting down on his legs before grabbing an empty cup to scoop and pour the soapy water over your head.

The attention you were receiving was unfamiliar, but definitely not unwelcome. His fingernails scratching your scalp was heavenly and you couldn't help but coo at the feeling.

"That good?" The man asked, smiling as you tilted your head towards his hands whenever he moved them.

"Mhm." You tilted your head back as he massaged his hands down your neck, using a clean washrag that he grabbed from underneath the sink not too long ago. He was able to get away with washing your whole upper body before asking you to stand up, offering his hand to you to use for balance. Along with the soap he bought for you, he also got a short bristled comb for your fur.

He kept his hand up for you, countering your pressure with a bit of his own so you felt steady while he began to lightly comb out the fur that started below your navel. What was once a dingy grey was now the cutest white fur on your belly and on the inside of your thighs, it was even on your butt and the underside of your tail.

While combing out your soggy fur, Leon had started to grow curious. All the other hybrids were just naked humans with a few specific animalistic features, yet your entire lower body was just goat.

He slowly spun you around at some point to comb your backside. "I need both my hands for this, love. Can you put your hands on the edge of the tub for me?"

You were reluctant to let go of his hand but agreed anyways, shakily placing your hands on the slippery white porcelain. It bent you over just slightly, which is what Leon needed to reach the rest of everything.

Unbeknownst to both you and Leon, your tail was quite sensitive at the base. He paused at the small gasp you let out when he grabbed your tail, giving you a worried look. "Are you okay? Did that hurt?"

"Uh-.. oh uh.. no it didn't hurt..." You weren't quite sure how to respond. That was a new feeling. It didn't hurt, though, that you knew.

Leon rationalized the reaction as him just startling you with the sudden grab. But then your tail wiggled faintly in his grasp as he slowly began to comb out your fur again, only leading him to wonder further.

He'd get the fur on the lower end of your legs last since you had to balance more for that, but right now he needed to worry about the thick patch of fur covering your genitals. Your little puckered hole was already on display for him which definitely didn't have him half-hard in his jeans since he had to lift your tail to comb the fur around it and you didn't seem too bothered by the exposure.

He let go of your tail, which stayed up, to pour another cup of water over your furry backside after noticing you begin to shiver, moving his hands lower to part the fur covering your pussy so he could comb that out as well. Unfortunately was a bit more tangled down there, probably due to the movement of your legs, and with it being denser fur, Leon had to take extra precaution when getting the tangles out.

He wasn't complaining though, your cute little pussy was definite eye-candy to the man. The bath was an easy excuse to touch it a bit, running the tip of his index finger through your folds a couple times before refocusing on detangling the fur around it. The little gasp you made mimicked the one you let out when he grabbed your tail. Interesting.

"Mr- uh.. Mr. Kennedy?" His eyes slowly drifted up to your face, noticing you were looking back at him from over your shoulder. "Don't worry, we're almost done, okay? You were pretty tangled down here, didn't wanna hurt ya."

Leon's words eased you some, finally letting your tail rest against your ass again as he moved down to the backs of your thighs. Not wanting to keep you in the cooling water much longer, the man hurried the rest of the bath up before rising you off with a detachable shower head.

It was amazing to him just how much water you held onto. He had to squeeze out the entirely of your legs, your tail, even your ears before he could wring out your hair. Seeing your perky nipples made it worth his while, however.

By now you were a shivering mess wrapped in two towels, standing on the rug as you would for sure slip on the tile when you were dripping water like this. Leon was so nice to you, setting up a small desktop space heater he had bought some years ago for you in front of your cage. He even carried you downstairs to the carpet.

The second the towels were taken from you, you immediately began to shake off the water, causing Leon to laugh.

"Hey, hey!" He held up the towels in front of his body as protection from your misting, laugh falling to a giggle when your tail vigorously wiggled. "Didn't know I took home a sprinkler system."

"Sorry-" You were still shaking off when you started to speak, so you waiting until you were done to continue talking. "Sorry, Mr. Kennedy. It's habit."

He folded the towel and draped it over his arm before patting your head. "Nah don't worry about it, sugar."

You leaned up into his touch, letting out a giggle of your own as he hooked a finger around the curl of your horn to move your head side to side playfully.

It was, again, surprising just how quickly you warmed up to the man. After you were mostly dried off from sitting in front of the small space heater, you started to follow Leon around as he moved about the house. Though you stopped on the edge of the carpet whenever he walked into the kitchen, he'll have to get some rugs for you, you were close behind him everywhere else.

Leon took a week off of work to allow you time to fully get to know your surroundings. He could more than afford the time off and it was nice to have a mini vacation away from work. Besides, you were fun to watch.

Just like he'd wanted, you were mostly self-sustainable, able to get your own food and go to the bathroom once he added rugs to tiled areas. He also bought a couple step-stools that had rails you could hold onto, one placed in the kitchen so you could move it about and the other in the master bathroom for you to reach the sink.

Leon did also buy a couple indoor cameras to keep an eye on you when he went back to work. You quickly learned where they were so you could ask him questions throughout the day seeing as he could talk through the camera back to you. You always made sure to ask if you could have a specific snack to eat, sometimes even telling him where you were going in the house if there wasn't a camera able to see you.

A few months in had lead to a very comfortable routine between you two; Leon would leave before you were awake, come home around 6-7pm, you would come running from wherever you were to hug his waist, he would make dinner while you two talked, the both of you would sit on the couch and watch a movie if it was a day he didn't come home exhausted, you and him would go to bed, and the cycle would repeat. At some point you even started sleeping in his bed with him, curling up towards the foot end of the bed next to his legs.

The weekends were spent going on walks to exercise your legs. You liked climbing and jumping around on big rocks, so hiking was always a good option. He also spent extra time cuddling you, massaging your little legs, playing with the split in your hooves, even experimenting with a gentle tug on your tail every so often. You always got so embarrassed with his teasing, it made him laugh.

When Leon had to leave for a mission, he would have Chris come and stay at his place. You didn't like this at first, it threw off the delicate balance between you and Leon, but just like with everything else, you settled after the first couple times he had to go on a mission. You were never told the nature of his missions, he didn't want you to worry or be upset if he never came back. This also kept you decently happy when he was away.

You really bonded with Leon and he bonded with you. How could he not? You were adorable.

As previously mentioned, you would always come running to greet him when he got home from work, which is why he was a little off-put not seeing you after getting home one day. It was the middle of the week and it had been a normal working day. You seemed alright on the cameras a few hours ago, having told him before he went on lunch that you were going to take a nap on his bed. It's been longer than your normal naps, so he was hoping you didn't get stuck somewhere and hurt yourself.

"I'm home, little lamb! Where are ya?" Leon yelled out, pausing to listen for any sign of movement before making his way back to his bedroom, but not before giving the guest bathroom and bedroom a quick glance on the way.

You had obviously been on his bed, given the sheets were all messed up, but where the hell were you?

It wasn't until he strode into his bathroom that he noticed his tall laundry basket was tipped over, some clothes pushed out the top which held the attached lid open a crack. He knelt down on one knee and knocked on the lid with his knuckle before lifting the lid up, eyes landing on you curled up in the bottom. Your eyes met his and you frowned, ears lowered as you turned your eyes down.

"Hey kiddo, what're ya doing in there?" Leon made sure his voice was anything but accusatory. "Did you get stuck?"

He glanced up a bit to make sure your horn wasn't hooked in one of the holes, and it wasn't.

"No..." You muttered, pulling one of his dirty shirts over your face. Oh now you were hiding from him, that won't do.

"C'mon, out with ya." His voice was gravelly as he lifted the lid up all the way and reached in, putting his hands under your armpits to pull you out along with the shirt you kept in front of your face. He held you so you were sitting on his forearm snuggled up to his stomach, reaching a hand up to pull the shirt away from you before tucking his other arm underneath your fluffy butt.

The position had you at eye level with him. He noticed your face was a little flushed, so he reached a hand back and pressed the back of it to your forehead. You didn't have a fever, that's good at least.

"You gonna tell me what's up?" Leon asked, scoffing playfully when you shook your head no and covered your face with your arms. "You'll be mad at me."

Leon's eyebrows furrowed with concern, carefully peeling your arms away from your face so you could look at him. "I would never get mad at you. You know that." He whispered, moving his hand around to support your back, thumbing rubbing soothingly at your skin.

It was true, he'd never gotten mad at you before. But this was different, you felt different. You were acting different and you didn't know why. You couldn't explain to him what was wrong even if you wanted to.

The dejected look that fell across your face as you averted your gaze was telling enough. He couldn't drag that information out of you, but he could hopefully make you feel better in the meantime.

Leon smiled and leaned forward to kiss your forehead, beginning the short walk back to the bed as he muttered against your skin. "Ya hungry? You've been back here awhile.."

He felt you nod, smiling as he gently placed you down on the bed. "Lay down and I'll bring you a snack. I'll even lay with you."

Your tummy fluttered at the idea of Leon cuddling with you, so you nodded again, much more enthusiastically this time. Your tail was wagging when he returned, quickly moving to press up to his side when he sat down next to you on the bed and handed you a sliced apple and some water.

It was little things like the laundry that Leon began to notice more and more over the next couple weeks. He would come home and have to go on what was essentially a hunt to find you because your cute ass was always hiding somewhere different; under his bed, in his closet, in the laundry basket again, and even right by the front door, somehow managing to pull down a couple of his jackets from the coat rack and make a little nest to curl up in.

Leon asked Chris about it one day at work while watching you pace around in the living room from one of the cameras, worried there was some lack of enrichment that he was somehow failing to provide. You were so happy before, but now you were right back to being the same anxious mess he saw at the adoption center all those months ago.

"You should call and ask that lady. She might know something." Chris shrugged, taking a sip from a can of soda. "I don't know much about goat hybrids, let alone females hybrids." He huffed out through his nose with a smile, but Leon only tightened his lips in response. Chris did have a point though, it could be something to do with your specific breed and gender.

Once Leon got home, he quickly found you with some of his dirty clothes under the bed again before giving the old lady at the adoption center at the call. The one thought he was avoiding was the possibility of you being sick to some degree. You were part prey animal, and those types of animals tended to hide their sickness. He learned this from trying to research what was wrong with you himself.

He stepped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind himself. You would sometimes skitter off to hide somewhere else after he'd already found you once that day, so he didn't want you disappearing while he was on the phone.

It was hard for Leon to explain over the phone what you'd been doing, but once he mentioned you making a nest out of his jackets did the lady know what the problem was. You were going into heat soon.

"Heat? The hell is that?" He scratched the side of his face, turning to look at the bedroom door to make sure it was still closed. Having that whole ordeal explained to him had him running a slow hand down the entirety of his face. Guess they can kick in for farm hybrids anywhere between 21-28 years old.

Of course. You were a girl. He really should've known all this when he first got you.

He had to help you manage it too. From what the lady said, you'd be a complete mess soon since you'd already been acting strange like that for a couple weeks now.

However, Leon wasn't completely opposed to the idea of *helping* you. In fact, he was a bit excited at the prospect of getting to explore you a bit more intimately. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he liked you. Liked you. Always so cute bounding around the house, snuggling up to him at night, giving him little pecks on his cheek when he picked you up. You were so hard to resist.

Not to mention that he couldn't keep his hands from straying whenever he helped you bathe. He would spread your pussy lips apart and use the excuse of making sure everything was clean to get a better view. Your little ass wasn't any safer with his thumb rubbing circles on it whenever he had to hold your tail up. You made the most precious noises when he touched you.

Alright, he could do this. Helping you with your heat seemed easy enough. All he needed to do was just take a week or two off of work again to tend to your needs. He definitely wasn't going to turn down getting to spend extra time with you. His little lamb.

About three days into his time off from work was when your heat fully started to kick in. You woke up in the middle of the panting, sweating, and restless, helping yourself out of the bed and down the stairs into the kitchen to drink some water. It helped for a short period, but when you woke up again, you were laying in a small wet puddle on the bed.

You started to cry because you thought you'd wet yourself, waking Leon in the process. He seemed confused, trying to make out what you were babbling about until you pulled the blankets back. Seeing the puddle made you cry more and Leon had to reassure you multiple times that everything was alright.

He sat up with his back up against the headboard and pulled you onto his lap, letting you weep into his bare chest. You were clearly a bit more emotional than usual, but Leon didn't mind, especially when he could feel a small wet spot forming on his boxers from you. He just whispered sweet nothings to you while rubbing your back, silently relishing in the feeling of your wet little cunt pressing on him.

Leon kept you up on his chest even once you calmed down, explaining your predicament the same way to you as the old lady had explained to him over the phone, faintly ghosting his fingers over the wet fur surrounding your crotch all the while.

He occasionally moved his hand around to pet and squeeze your fluffy ass cheeks, rub his thumb over your asshole again, or to stroke your tail, gauging your reactions. More emotional, even more sensitive.

You sighed and gasped at every touch, eyes having closed at some point during his explanation. Leon seemed to understand what was going on with you, so you didn't see much reason to worry. He'd make sure you were okay.

"You just need a little extra loving this week. That seem okay?" Leon hummed when you nodded, bringing his hand back down to part the fur covering your pussy. "Good. Who doesn't want some extra love, right?"

You jolted a bit when his index finger began to run up and down through your dripping folds, only relaxing again once his other hand came up to rub between your shoulder blades. "Easy, girl, easy..."

Your legs naturally parted further for him, tail staying lifted. "That feel good, little lamb?" Leon whispered, adding his middle finger to continue stroking your folds when you gave him a small moan in response.

"Yeah it does.. yeah..." A groan rumbled deep in Leon's chest, rubbing the tips of his fingers over your slit as slick consistently leaked from it. It had already started to drip down past your clit, saturating the fur on your stomach before eventually dripping onto his boxers, right above his bulge. It was wet from before, but feeling the new spot form was driving him insane.

Despite not being able to see it, the man spread your outer lips apart. He groaned when you whined and lifted your hips slightly, eyebrows furrowing again when your tail wagged a couple times.

"You like that?" Leon breathed out a low chuckle as he moved his fingers down to stroke your wet clit. "Like when Mr. Kennedy plays with you like this?"

"I-oh-.. yes, sir.." Leon paused to pull you up a bit further on his chest to kiss you, fingers quickly returning to massage your clit. You didn't quite know how to kiss back, so you just did your best to follow his lead. The kisses on your lips made you feel warmer than you already were.

His free hand had moved down your back to your tail, grabbing it firmly to so he could lightly tug on it. Your moans only increased in volume at that, panting with your lips still pressed on his. You were steadily leaking now, the combined feeling of his fingers on your clit while he stroked your tail causing you to gush. His fingers and the top of his palm were completely drenched.

"Such a good girl~..." Leon sighed, moving his fingers off your clit so he could pet the fur around your pussy. "You're so soft here, baby.."

You'd been blushing already, but his sweet words were only making it worse. Your pussy was aching now, hips jerking back subconsciously for his touch.

"Hmm? What is it, sugar?" He knew what you wanted, he just wanted to hear your delicate voice again. "P-please-.. keep playing with me, Mr. Kennedy..."

Oh, you were just darling. "Atta girl, using your big girl words.." Leon smirked, moving his index and middle fingers back to rub your clit. Your head was growing foggy now, face buried in the juncture of his neck to breathe in his scent. It was so strong there, musky and warm, reminded you of cinnamon.

He dipped his middle finger into your wet hole down to the first knuckle accompanied by a particularly rough tug to your tail, pulling a squeal from you in the process.

"I know, oh, I know~..." Leon cooed quietly into your right ear. His hot breath tickled, making your ear flick forward. "You're so tight, baby.. Squeezing around my big finger..."

He slowly sunk his finger into you further. Your legs were trembling on either side of his waist, small hands grasping onto his pecs as breathy moans and whimpers poured from your lips. Once he curled his finger, you came, whole body shaking as you let out a cry.

Such a pretty sight for Leon, watching you drool onto his chest, all dumb from just a finger. He could get used to this.

With lots of encouraging words and caresses to your tail he was eventually able to get two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you, curling them every so often just to hear you whine for him.

The fullness was so new to you, and with the man filling your senses combined with the sensitivity your heat provided, it wasn't long before you were clamping down on his fingers again, cumming for the second time with a weak gasp that fell into whimpering and panting.

"There ya go.. easy, girl.." Leon moved his hand away from your tail to push your ear closer to his lips, kissing the soft inside as he whispered into it. He carefully removed his fingers from you to bring into his mouth, swapping his hands so the other was now flat on your lower back. Your slick tasted so sweet, like honey on his tongue. He'll be tasting more of that later.

He planted one last kiss to your lips before shifting down on the bed so he could lay back down, arms tightly wrapped around you as he rolled onto his side.

You fell asleep in no time, the sound of Leon's steady heartbeat soothing your fast one back to a regular pace.

You must've been feeling the effects of your heat come the next morning, considering you slept until the late afternoon. You just seemed more fatigued, totally understandable.

Before you'd woken up, Leon managed to do a bit more research of his own. He wanted to stay informed on how this whole heat thing would go, taking note of the various effects; hypersensitivity to touch and sound, fatigue, cravings, increased libido, lactation?, clinginess, flushed skin, and that excessive slick would last throughout the whole heat. Everything else would come and go in waves, apparently.

He was sitting on the couch, phone in his hands when you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing at your eyes with a small yawn. Without saying a word, you walked over and stood in front of his legs up. Leon could only smile as you crawled up onto his lap, pushing yourself underneath his arms.

You had your back flush against him, leaning your head back so it was resting between his pecs. Thankfully your horns were short enough that they didn't poke him.

Your furry legs were parted around his, arms hanging loosely at your sides with your tail tucked beneath your butt. There, you fell asleep again.

The man placed one hand on your leg to play with your soft fur, turning his attention back to his phone as he continued to read. Soon he was looking down at you, an idea in mind. He shook your leg a bit to see if you would wake up and you didn't even stir. Fantastic.

Smirking, Leon opened the camera on his phone and flipped it so it was front-facing. He'd gotten pictures of you in the past, usually more candid photos of you cuddling with him, but nothing like this.

He moved his hand from your leg to your crotch, parting the fur with his fingers to reveal your still dripping pussy. It was always nice to look at the cute pictures he'd gotten of you when he's at work or on a mission, so what's the harm in getting just a few more? He already knew he'd be missing this when he had to return to work.

Leon made sure to get the wet spot you were forming on his sweatpants in view, taking some pictures with and without his fingers caressing your glistening folds. He brought the phone up to give the photos a good look, smirk widening before bringing it back down to focus more on your breasts.

Lactation. They did seem a bit more pronounced than usual. Taking a simple video wouldn't hurt, right?

Once pressing record, Leon rubbed his free hand across your chest, gently massaging one breast at a time. He circled his index finger around one of your nipples before giving it an experimental pinch, his breath hitching when couple droplets of milk beaded from it. Oh wow.

He massaged the one breast a bit more firmly before moving to pinch your nipple again, groaning to himself as a few more droplets beaded and collected on his thumb.

Leon placed the phone down after ending the recording, hurriedly placing both hands on your breasts as he began to massage both of them a bit more firmly. Pinching both your nipples made you whimper in your sleep, though he barely registered it when his eyes were flooded with the sight of more milk droplets falling onto his fingers.

Jesus, thats amazing. He swallowed dryly, only continuing for a minute more until deciding to give your probably very sensitive breasts a break and let you sleep.

You woke up when Leon had to move you off of his lap, whining as you watched him stand up from the couch. "I'll be right back, little lamb." He shushed you, placing you on your side with your head on one of the plush decorative pillows. He needed to take care of his hard-on before he exploded and he can't really do that with your hot and wet little cunt pressing right on it.

The rest of the day was spent with Leon holding you up with one arm while he did chores, your head on his shoulder. You whined and complained and cried until he picked you up, wanting to stay as close as possible to the man.

Something about your heat must kick in at night because you were more awake after the sun had set, clinging to Leon like your life depended on it. You didn't understand, but something in you ached, you *needed* him. It was hard convey, so you just went back to whining and complaining as he got ready for bed.

"Baby, you gotta let me brush my teeth I-" he was cut off when you suddenly fondled him through his sweatpants. His scent was strong down here, you really liked it. The man spit into the sink before reaching down to place a firm hand atop your head. "Hey hey, careful with the equipment."

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his waist, the side of your face squished against his stomach with your tail wagging happily. He hummed and finished brushing his teeth. "Alright, go and hop in bed. Go on." He shooed you away with a playful grin, giving your ass a gentle smack when you turned to trot off.

Reaching around, you rubbed over the spot where he smacked your butt, looking over your shoulder at him for a brief moment. It made your tummy flutter like before.

You crawled into the bed and watched the bathroom door until Leon walked out, smile immediately returning as he walked over to his side of the bed. He got in next to you and sighed, laying with his arms behind his head. His eyes were closed but he could just tell you were leaning over him.

"What's up, love?" Leon hummed, peaking one eye open to look up at you. You weren't tired, you were achey. You can't sleep when you were achey. "D'ya need somethin'?"

You thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes-.. yeah.."

"Whaddya need then? You know how to use your words." Leon closed the one eye, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt you move to sit on his chest.

"Will you-... uh.. will you play with me again, Mr. Kennedy?" He could feel your tail wagging, soft white fur rubbing side to side across his skin.

He raised an eyebrow, yet his eyes remained closed. "Ask nicely, sugar."

You groaned, eyebrows furrowing with frustration. You wanted him to look at you but his eyes were closed, now he was making you repeat yourself. So mean. "Please, Mr. Kennedy..."

"Please what?" Leon's laugh only frustrated you more, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you struggled to think. "Please play with me!"

Noticing your shaky tone, Leon opened one eye again, smirk falling to a kind smile. "Okay, alright, don't get your panties in a bunch."

"...my what?" You sniffled, blinking away your tears as he sat up onto his elbows. "Don't worry about it. Can you hop off for just a second, sweets?"

You nodded and slid off to the right, watching him shimmy off his sweatpants, left fully naked with a semi. He rolled onto his side and moved closer to you, pressing his hand to your chest to gently guide you to lay down.

"I'll play with ya real nice.." He grunted, watching your legs part for him as he slotted his head between them. He was craving the taste of that honey-sweet slick on his tongue, and after placing his left hand around the inside of your thigh, right hand spreading you open, he dove in.

Not wanting to waste a single second, he began to greedily lap at your folds, moaning in tandem with you as he swallowed every drop of slick you were oh so graciously offering to him. Your soft fur tickling his face was the last thing he was thinking about, tongue tracing every perfect inch of your cunt.

Your moans and gasps were music to his ears, chuckling into your cunt as he looked up to your face. So blissed out already. You'd be the death of him, though he'd die a happy man.

Leon wrapped his lips around your clit, swirling his tongue around it as he gently sucked. You were wiggling a lot, you needed to stay still.

Pulling away with a growl, he sat up on his knees and grabbed both your ankles with his hand. He lifted them up so your ass was lifted slightly from the bed before diving back down into your cunt. That was way better.

While his right hand held your legs up, his left hand wandered down to your puckered hole, occasionally dipping the tip of his thumb into it following a few circles around the rim. It was already wet enough from the mixture of your slick and his spit. Plus, it was right there just waiting to be toyed with.

His cock was throbbing for you, desperate to feel your tight, silky walls wrapped around him. He pulled his mouth away from you after a minute with a gravelly laugh, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of you with your legs held up, crossed at the ankles, along with your weeping pussy.

He was smart enough to leave his phone close by on the nightstand, so he was able to reach over and grab it without jostling you too much. This picture was going in his wallet, that's for sure.

"Mr. Kennedyyy..." you whined, weakly attempting to pull your legs from his grasp.

"Relax," Leon tapped the bottom of your hooves with his thumb before slowly letting your legs fall back to the bed. "Mr. Kennedy just wanted to savor the view."

He sat up against the headboard, patting his lap with a smile. It took you a second to recollect yourself enough to crawl onto him, Leon helping you by offering a hand for you to balance with.

"Perfect, riiiight there.." He sat you just right so his dick settled into the part in your fur that he made, then placing his hands on the point of your hips to begin leisurely grinding you down on him. The wet shlick from his dick gliding through your folds was absolutely divine. He had to keep himself from plunging into you.

"Pl-ease, sir..." you brokenly whined as his tip caught your clit, causing you to jerk your hips forward.

"No need to beg, my lamb. You'll get just what you need.." He moved one hand to grab your bicep to help keep you lifted up as he positioned his cock at your hole. "I'll be so careful, as gentle as I can..."

Your face contorted in a silent cry as he began to push you down onto him, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "You're doing so well, sugar" He grunted, "my big, strong girl~.."

Leon was so careful, just like he promised you, giving you all the time you needed to adjust and stretch to his length. Your eyes were shut tight, ears pressed back against your head as you whimpered. He made you feel so full, it really did satisfied that achey feeling you had.

"God that's so hot.." The man whispered to himself, grabbing his phone again to take a picture of the obvious bulge in your tummy from his cock, putting his hand next to it for reference. He moved his hand over it and pressed gently, listening to your drawn out whimper.

"Oh I bet you're- fuck- just loving that, huh baby girl?" Leon growled at the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, slick started to leak down his shaft and to his balls.

Wanting to give you a bit more time, he started to grind you on him again. "Gah- noo, too- ngh~.. too full, Mr. Kennedy.."

"Yeah?" Leon purred, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip as he watched your face. "Too full?"

You nodded with a whimpered out "yes", hands clenched in fists at your sides, unsure of where to put them.

"But you're making Mr. Kennedy feel so good, sweetheart.." He barely lifted you up before letting you slide back down to the base, hands hovering close to your waist.

"...yeah..?" You panted, body starting tremble with adrenaline, nipples perked up. "Soooo good.." Leon responded, hunching over to pull one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands flew to his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you gasped.

The man growled again at the taste of what little milk he got, furrowing his brow as he started to lift you up and down on his cock by holding onto your sides.

Your pussy squelched and dripped around his cock, dragging moan after moan from your beautiful lips. All he could do was focus on bouncing you now, leaning back to watch his cock disappear into your fur-covered cunt each time he dropped you down onto it.

He almost laughed when he saw your ears bouncing with you, but he didn't want to make you feel embarrassed. No, he'll save that for later when he shows Chris the pretty pictures and video he took of you.

Your walls quivered and clenched around him, tip bumping into your cervix, leaving him grunting as he neared his own high. Pulling out was going to be a difficult task, you cradled his cock so well.

He couldn't get you pregnant, right? No, surely not.

"Mr- ah! Mr. Kennedy..!" Your voice warbled, crying out for him as your tensed up with your orgasm.

"Oh shit.. yeah, yeahhhhh~..." Leon let out a strained groan as you tightened around him like a vice, rutting into you a few more times before spilling his load.

Most of it spilled out and around his cock since he continued to bounce you shallowly on it for a few seconds longer.

You breathed heavily as you tried to catch your breath, leaning forward to fall against his chest with a whine.

The two of you sat for awhile, Leon just soaking in the euphoria of it all. Soon, he delicately lifted you off and laid you next to him, brushing a couple stray strands of hair from your sweaty forehead.

He cleaned you off, but not before getting one last picture of your spent cunt dripping with his cum.

The man'll wait until tomorrow morning to get you in the shower with him. For now, he'll just pull you closer to him, pet the back of your hair while you sleep.

There's still about a week more of this heat of yours, then he'll have to head back to work. He'd stay home forever if it meant taking care of you.

Thinking back, that old lady from the adoption center was right. You did end up being the perfect little lap pet.

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squirmhoney · 9 months

Text

THEIR QUIVERING MESS

Warnings: oral (f) receiving. dub con. spit kink. Choking. Incest. Smut. Over stimulation. 18+ A/N: To whoever sent this in, thank you for inspiring this. I haven't fully read over this so sorry for any mistakes. Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader x Baelon Targaryen

It’s probably only half an hour in, before Aegon and Baelon had pulled two orgasms from you.

With Baelon’s head buried between your plush thighs and Aegon sucking on your nipples, you felt like you were on the edge of passing out. You fought to keep your eyes open, head thrown back as you let out cries of pleasure. It was completely nauseating, the feel of both of them latching onto you with pure desperation as if you were about to slip out of their grip.

“You taste so good,” Baelon groaned into your cunt. “So sweet, baby.” He lifted his head slightly, enough for you to get a good look. His dark eyes entranced with the sight before him and lips soaked with your juices. It was such a sight to see.

“Open your mouth, princess,” Aegon snatched your attention back to him, pushing his thumb into your mouth.

You obeyed him, lips parting for him until his thumb rested on your tongue.

“Good girl,” He said, violet eyes piercing into yours. He pulled his thumb out, leaning his mouth over yours before spitting. “Now swallow.”

You did just that, letting the spit sink into your throat.

Aegon’s lips were on yours again, inhaling every moan that slipped out of your mouth as his twin brother slipped a finger into your walls. It wasn’t long before he slipped in another and another until he was thrusting three fingers inside of you, chuckling at the way your walls were so wet that they sucked him in.

“Fuck,” you hissed, breaking away from Aegon’s lips as Baelon’s fingers hit a sweet spot inside of you.

“Our pretty little niece doesn’t swear,” Aegon was stern as he spoke to you, grabbing you by your chin. “Only needy little sluts swear.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, tears kissing your cheek. “I just mean- I-” Your hips bucked up, legs shaking as you became squirmish.

Aegon’s hand dropped from your chin, fingers spreading across your throat. “But you are a needy slut, aren’t you?” Aegon whispered, fingers tightening around your neck, partially restricting your airflow. “Our needy slut.”

“Hold her legs apart,” Baelon snapped, hands shoving your legs apart.

Aegon caught one of your legs with his free hand, helping Baelon as they both held your legs open.

“Much better,” Baelon said before his tongue was licking at your clit again.

When your orgasm hit, you were an incoherent babbling mess, whining into Aegon’s mouth. Your walls were clenching around his fingers, pulsating out of control. Eventually it was too much and your hands were pushing Baelon’s head away, trying to get a breath of fresh air.

“It’s okay, baby,” Baelon shushed you as he removed his head from your thighs, giving you some space. His hands rubbed along your thighs, trying to calm you down. “You’re okay.”

“My turn.” Aegon was quick to replace Baelon between your thighs, switching positions.

You began to shake your head, chest heaving up and down. “No, I can’t.”

“You’ll be fine,” Baelon comforted you, fingers tracing the skin of your stomach. “Let us take care of you.”

You were a quivering mess, cunt still twitching with your last orgasm as Aegon wrapped his lips around your clit. While Baelon licked every part of you, making sure to have you completely edged before you climaxed on his tongue, Aegon devoured every part of you, sucking you dry until your thighs were wrapping themselves around his head, practically suffocating him.

You knew it wouldn’t be long until you’d be cumming again and all you could do was sink your hips back into the bed, slipping further into this new found ecstasy.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon ii fic #aegon targaryen ii x you

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biteofcherry · 1 year

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Make the dust fly

dark!Steve Rogers x female reader; dark!Captain Rogers x fairy reader

Author’s Note: This is a dark retelling (with a wicked twist) of a Peter Pan fairytale, for @boxofbonesfic “Once Upon A Time” challenge and 10k milesestone celebration - once again, congratulations!

summary: You’ve always been loyal to Peter and to his group of rascals, fierce in the way you protect them. So when the bloodthirsty Captain Rogers is close to catching your friends, your fairy heart bursts with courage and you place yourself between them. Little did you know that Captain was never after Peter. It was always about you…

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers; dub-con (bordering on non-con); captivity; stocks/pillory; spanking; size kink; forced orgasm; explicit sexual content; mentions of drug use;

Reader is a fairy, Peter’s sassy Tinkerbell, but in my take on this universe fairies aren’t that tiny tiny. They’re “regular size”, but definitely smaller than Captain Rogers.

Also, there’s a light hint at WS!Steve, regarding his prosthetic (after all, he’s serving as Captain Hook in this).

word count: 5.8k

Though the sun spilled through the half-broken window of the old sanctuary, the splashes of colors softening the stone floors where stained glass-work cast its reflection, the soothing atmosphere was dispersing.

Fear and charging darkness chased you through the corridors as the pirates’ trap closed in on you.

How did they even find this place? It was an abandoned little playground which you found a few months ago and to which you brought Peter and the boys, Wanda too. Her stories gained a new dimension of life when told here.

It should be safe! So far from the seas and rocky beaches where the pirates often lurked. Far from the lush green forests, which Captain seemed to roam alone with ease, as if he wasn’t a bastard limited to the seas, but a nomad who found his place anywhere he wished. Anywhere his power allowed him.

And he had power in bulks.

Elders of your fairy clan have spoken of him with fear. You always thought it to be because of his ruthless mastery over the seas and the merciless determination with which he hunted Peter.

Somehow, he found Peter even here, so deep into the land it felt impossible to meet him and his crew here. But the warning came crisp and clear as MJ ran inside the sanctuary, breathless and panicked, yelling about pirates securing nets outside and preparing to storm in.

Nets so they could trap all of you, even if your dust gave your friends the ability to fly.

“Go, Peter!” You hissed at him, handing him a small pouch with gathered fairy dust.

“Take Wanda and leave through that tunnel we found last week!” You urged them. “Once outside, you’ll be able to fly off. They won’t be able to set up nets over a cliff!”

“Come with us.” Peter caught your wrist. “We can all fly.”

You shook your head, yanking your hand from Peter’s grip. That spontaneous escape would work on most, but not on Captain Rogers.

As rash and reckless many men were, he was a brilliantly strategic son of a bitch. The fact he somehow found you here, was able to build up a quick trap, spoke of how dangerous it was to underestimate him.

Somehow- someone had to play decoy, so the others could save themselves.

You knew Peter managed to get free in the past, always so creative in improvising and audacious enough to follow through with quite crazy plans, but this time it felt more dire. Your instinct told you it was no playful risk, but could be the end to all ends.

Captain Rogers wanted Peter, you were merely an annoyance he’d wave off like a fly.

“Go! Go now!” You pushed Peter toward the secret exit. “I’ll meet you later.” You vowed, determined to squirm your way out of the pirate’s grasp.

When the group started squeezing into the tunnel, you took a deep breath and fluttered your wings out. You flew up to one of the partially broken windows and peeked over the red stained glass that used to be a part of a rose.

Hook’s crew was indeed outside, in a formation that looked threatening and discouraging to any rebellion. Well, it made your rebellious streak flare. After all, fairies weren’t known for mellow, compliant behavior. You certainly weren’t that kind of a fairy. Nor that kind of woman.

Hook. You shook your head as you thought of a rather cruel nickname the boys gave Captain Rogers.

He lost his arm - there were various tales regarding the circumstances behind that. Some included a ridiculous brawl with a crocodile; another a power hungry demi god from the outerworld who turned into an alligator; other stories were about wars in far lands after which Rogers’ body washed up on the shores nearby, already lacking an arm.

Whatever the truth was, each tale had a significant truth to it which your friends liked to omit - Rogers survived. Perhaps even won.

It should keep you all scared, not underestimate him as a pathetic, crazy pirate with a prosthetic.

There was a hook attached to his prosthetic many years ago, but it was long gone, replaced with a functioning metal arm whose endurance and strength matched Rogers’ general power.

Still, Peter and the boys snickered at the Hook nickname.

Most of the time you called him Rogers or Captain Rogers, only when you were truly pissed, or scared of losing your friends, did you call him Hook; and many other degrading names.

He stood there, so close to the entrance. His head was slightly bowed as he talked to a man beside him. Sun streaks seemed to catch in his blond hair, his features bathed in warm glow. It annoyed you that someone so ruthless and despicable dared to look so beautiful, so stunning. Light and magic of the world were for fairies like you, to shimmer in your nearly translucent wings and burst full of color as you shed dust. It shouldn’t caress a man like Captain Rogers, making him appear innocent-like.

No, he was not innocent.

He was a bottomless pit of darkness and all things wicked, only luring with his handsome veneer. Like those flowers Tiger Lily once showed you - they were so lush and aromatic, but when an insect touched their petals they’d trap it inside and feed on it.

Not only because Rogers had this sick obsession with Peter, trying to hunt him down, but there were other instances that turned your blood cold.

He kidnapped three mermaid younglings, taking them far away over the seas and selling them as an attraction, or maybe as pets. He spread bodies of his enemies on the rocky shore, arranging their corpses in wooden galways, leaving them for animals to feed on.

There was a tale of Echo, one of the Tribe’s people, who disappeared unexpectedly. Rumors of her fate laid at Captain Rogers’ feet. Yet there was no gossip of her potential whereabouts. And the Tribe, for some unknown reason, still occasionally traded with the pirates.

Rage at his conscienceless acts made you itch for your daggers. Though you probably couldn’t hit him from a distance.

So you flew up slightly higher, to get a better look at the siege, seek a hole through which you could escape and show them the middle finger.

At that moment Captain turned his head and looked up, as if he sensed he was being watched. His gaze zeroed in on you.

Stupidly, really, but you stuck out your tongue at him when your eyes met.

Rogers cocked his head to the side, his gaze slid from you to the building then back up. He was assessing something, calculating. Suddenly he turned on his heel and marched straight inside.

Heart jumping to your throat in fear, you flew down.

It dawned on you that he had to be considering where your group may hide within the sanctuary’s corridors, but your little peek gave him the answer right away. It meant he was aiming straight to your place of hiding.

Which was good, you reminded yourself. It drew attention away from Peter and Wanda and the rest. You had to stand your ground.

You couldn’t just fly around like a butterfly anyway, since a few months ago it turned out that pirates have shipped in some new kind of weapon that splutters rapid fire at any object in motion. It would hit you at some point, even if you’d manage to dodge most of the shots.

Taking Rogers on in a fight was a task near impossible, but you were fast, agile and quite good with your daggers in close distance. Maybe you’d be able to surprise him with a nick, or two, and use the distraction to escape. The tunnel Peter and the rest went through was so narrow that Captain’s broad, large frame would never fit through it.

You drew out your daggers, clenching your fingers around the ornately carved wood, as you heard booming steps approaching. Captain Rogers barged in, his pace slowing as he entered the chamber fully.

A small group of his pirates followed, but when they realized there’s no one beside you inside, they stopped in their tracks.

You felt a surge of victory. You tilted your chin up defiantly, a smirk curving your lips as you threw Captain a challenging look.

“Peter’s not here.” You called out, triumphantly. “You’re not gonna get him, old man.”

It was an overused jab that had more spunk when Peter yelled it. His youth could rub it in for a man of Rogers’ age (truthfully, you did not know his actual age, but he was at least twice the age of Peter and Wanda).

You? Fairies aged differently. You may as well be his age, if not older.

Captain Rogers didn’t seem enraged at your challenge. A muscle in his jaw twitched, but his face remained impassive as he stared you down.

He motioned at his people to stand down behind then slowly drew out his sword. The sound of a sharp blade leaving its sheath pierced the silence that fell over the sanctuary.

Your fists clenched, the hilt of your dagger digging painfully into your delicate skin. You drew your wings together and rested them against your back to gain more momentum as you charged at him.

You were fast and sneaky, easily avoiding Captain’s first cuts. Unfortunately for you, his large size wasn’t an obstacle to his agility. You learned it quickly as his moves sped up and he matched you in your rapid twists. His bulky frame was surprisingly graceful in a fight.

With a snarl, you managed to cut his shoulder, dark shirt parting where your blade nicked it. Blood soaked that spot, but the Captain didn’t even hiss, nor did he falter in his steps.

He attacked you with ferocity, though you didn’t notice that each of his moves was to disable you rather than kill you. Too immersed in your own rage, you slashed like a caged animal while he remained a sophisticated predator toying with his food.

You twisted around, swaying your arm in a half circle in an attempt to slice his other arm. A sudden pain in your wings pulled you backward. He caught your wings in his metal fingers, delicate filaments nearly crushing under the pressure. With a yelp, you bowed your back to lessen the tugging pain, flailing your arms around to lash at anyone who dared to approach.

Captain Rogers hit your fist with the broad side of his sword, the strength behind it hard enough to make your fingers seize in pain. You dropped the dagger. Before it clattered to the floor, he did the same to your other hand, leaving you weaponless.

Another tug at your wings pulled you backwards to him, then his hand caught one of your wrists, wrenching your arm behind your back.

He had you locked, your side pinned to him as he forced your back to bow further, your face tilting up to him as you did.

Striking blue eyes, reminding you of the electric clear sky after stormy clouds disperse, stared down at you. A cold victory shimmered in his irises.

“I don’t care about getting Peter, little sprite.” Captain’s deep, velvety voice resounded over the rapid fluttering of your heart.

“It was always about you.”

His dark chuckle caused your heart to stop, dread swallowing you in a cold wave.

You never expected to become a part of his sinister plans; your mind filled with horrifying images of being shipped away to unknown lands, sold like a piece of meat, or forced into labor to survive. You were ready to die, if it meant saving your friends, but you never considered a worse fate awaiting.

One of the Captain's crewmen brought a set of shackles, which they locked around your hands. Usually you were able to get out of any regular cuffs, but these seemed to be tailored for a fairy’s slimmer wrists. Attached to it was a heavy chain, the end of which Captain Rogers wrapped around his metal hand.

“You can walk, or you can fly, I don’t care.” He said to you, yanking on the chain and forcing you to stumble into his chest.

With his other hand he gripped a fistful of your hair and loomed over you.

“But you will follow me, sprite. Or another chain will go around your neck and I’ll drag you by it all the way to my ship.”

He led you out of the sanctuary, your feet scurrying after his big strides. Once outside, you spread your wings, helping yourself catch up to Captain’s pace by floating in the air. A small group of his pirates joined you, trading beside and behind. The rest stayed to take down the nets and pack everything.

It really seemed that Captain got exactly what he wanted and you had no idea why it was you.

You looked for any familiar faces that might lurk in the thickness of the jungle, or hide behind rocks, as the pirates led you to the beach where the boats awaited. Anyone, who could carry the news of your capture to Peter, or to your fairy clan.

However, all forms of life seemed to scatter from the Captain’s path.

Perhaps it was the right thing to do. You should’ve abandoned your bold, fierce courage - or stupidity, really - and hide from him, like all reasonable creatures did.

As some of the elders of your clan sighed, you spent too much time joining Peter’s reckless adventures, forgetting your survival instinct.

At the shore, Captain brought you with him into one of the boats. Only two other pirates joined you, their task to row the boat toward the monstrous, black ship out in the open sea. Rogers made you sit down on the bottom of the boat, curled between his spread legs.

He ran a finger down the back of your neck and to where your wings grew out of your back. You hunched forward, then turned your head and glared at him. His mouth curved in a cocky smirk as he teased the outline of your shimmering wing.

You clenched your jaw and hung your head down, feigning pure anger to cover the hint of trembling.

Fairy’s wings were exceptionally sensitive to touch. The stroke of Captain’s fingers evoked a sensation contrary to pain or discomfort. That side of your wings, when teased, would cause your nipples to stiffen and a fire to bloom in your abdomen.

You would never let Hook know about that. He’d use it to humiliate you, or to think of an even worse fate for you. You were sure he had some depraved, disgusting buyers in the dark human offshores.

Once on the ship, the crew parted as Captain Rogers prowled toward his suite. Their eyes leering as they watched you trot behind him. You swallowed, but tilted your chin high. You even sent a glare at one or two of the pirates.

Your breath stuttered in your chest, your eyes growing big, when among the crew you noticed a dark haired woman. Tight braids adorned with beads and a pirate’s outfit on her body, but you recognized Echo. Or someone who looked so much like her. She sent you a dismissive look, as if she wasn’t bothered by your presence. She definitely didn’t seem to be in distress.

You had no time to wonder about Echo’s ties to the pirate crew, because Rogers opened the door to his cabin and pushed you inside. Heavy wood closed behind you with a booming finality.

The first thing you saw was a long table with maps, plans and navigating instruments. Books lined shelves on the sides. A few trinkets glinted in the dimmed darkness.

The cabin was separated in half by a heavy curtain. When Captain led you around the table toward it and parted the folds of the embroidered fabric, you froze on the spot.

That you’d see the private, sleeping part of his quarters was something you expected. But it was the thing beside his big bed, lined with layers of soft looking linens and silks, that made you stumble a step back.

A large, human sized birdcage hung beside the bed. Pillows fluffed atop its bottom didn’t change the fact it was a scary, humiliating prison. Undoubtedly made for you.

“I’d rather be tossed in the brick with other slaves you’re about to sell.” You gritted your teeth, yanking on the chain which Rogers’ held in his hand.

“Sell?” He approached you, a cruel smile on his pretty lips.

He traced a single finger along your cheek and you flinched away from his touch, despite how strangely soothing it felt for your rattled heart.

“Sprite, why would I sell something that can bring me regular profit rather than just a one time gain?” Captain chuckled.

Not the least discouraged by your body leaning away, he slid his hands down your arms. The fact his touch was gentle and not a forced manhandling, somehow made the disgust in you grow.

“See, I’m well aware that fairy dust gives more than just the ability to fly for a few minutes.” He opened your shackles, dropping them and the chain to the floor with a loud clunk. “Though, that in itself would sell greatly.”

He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing tightly and forcing you to look him in the eye.

“I know that fairy dust gives an euphoric rush and enhances strength, speed, and senses. Even if the effect is short, it's a drug most sought after.”

You heard of it - of what your dust gave people. Peter and your friends gained from it, but for joy and freedom. Others wanted the power of it for more nefarious deeds. And, as it always was with people, they wanted more and more and more.

“I plan on reaping the benefits of selling it regularly. And you, little sprite, are my source.”

With a wicked grin, Rogers kissed you on the lips. A short, harsh thing. Then he pulled back, laughing at your stunned face.

It took you a second to regain your train of thought as your brain scrambled - both at his admission and the kiss. Ire rose, rebellion against aiding the damned pirate in any way bubbling hot like lava.

“Ha!” You scrunched your nose and crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m not shedding a single flake of dust for you, asshole. Keep me locked as long as you want, you’re not getting any.”

You expected a flash of anger. Hell, you wanted to annoy him! You wanted to push all his buttons, rip them free and stuff them down his throat so he chokes.

But he remained calm, amused even. Studied you with a head tilted to the side, corners of his mouth still lifted upward in a smile.

Then, in a split second, he had a hand behind your neck, fingers gripping tightly.

He dragged you across the room, toward a wooden pillory which you didn’t notice earlier. You growled out your protest, heels digging into the floor planks as you fought against Captain's grip. It was futile. He overpowered you easily.

With the help of his metal hand, he had you bending down. Your neck settled into a bigger half-moon in the middle of the pillory. He forced your hands to rest in the smaller circles. Then locked the upper part, trapping you in. A padlock clicked in place.

Your wings fluttered wildly, your feet lifting off the floor, but it changed nothing. He had you bound in an uncomfortable, humiliating position.

He crouched in front of you, blue eyes staring into yours with a dark glint.

“Ah, sprite. You underestimate me.” His smirk grew and a dreadful feeling settled deep in your gut.

“I knew you wouldn’t shed dust for me willingly. I also know that there is another instance when a fairy sprinkles it. Uncontrollably, I’d say.”

No! He couldn’t know that. Nobody did.

That was a secret of the fairies, shared with absolutely no one. You never told Peter or anyone else. You knew no other fairies would reveal it, no matter how strongly they trusted human friends.

Yet everything inside you sensed that the Captain spoke the truth. He knew the truth.

“I- I have no idea what you are talking about.” You huffed out, but you suspected your bluff was easily caught.

“Of course you do, sweet little sprite.” Rogers chuckled.

He straightened and slowly walked around you. He didn’t even reprimand you for struggling in the stockade, trying to somehow break the sturdy wood. He was this secured in his dominance over you.

There was a long, silent pause, heightening your trepidation since you were unable to see what he was doing behind you.

A big, warm hand rested right above your wings, then teasingly slowly dragged between them all the way to your ass. A brush along your wings was enough to send a faint zap of sensation to your core. Rogers flipped your green dress up, exposing your butt. He splayed his hand over one buttock, warming up your skin.

He pulled his hand away. A second later a loud smack resounded, evoking a burning sting and causing you to squeak.

His fingers spread over the spot, rubbing soothingly and turning the pain into pleasant throbbing. He draped himself over you as he looked down at your bowed head from above the pillory.

“A fairy sprinkles dust when they’re aroused.” Rogers recited the most intimate secret.

“Well, you don’t arouse me!” Your fingers clenched into fists as you hissed at him.

“Don’t I?” Captain hummed.

With his foot he kicked your legs wider apart. Next his hand landed with a softer slap over your pussy. He kept his fingers there. Held them pressed against you, starting a slow circular motion that drew out wetness you shouldn’t be presenting at his proximity.

A whimper escaped your mouth as you felt your clit throb beneath his fingers. The thin fabric of your bottoms growing a wet spot.

“There she is.” Captain drawled in pleasure, tracing his metal finger along the back of your neck.

Dust glittered on your skin, the tiny flakes clinging to his finger as he touched your skin.

His touch disappeared, leaving you with a mixture of relief and confusing longing, as Rogers moved around to face you again.

He crouched down, showing you his finger that now shined with fairy dust.

“You may think I'm repulsive, sprite, but I will do things to your body that will make you burst in fountains.” He traced your lips with that finger, withdrawing it just in time before you thought to bite it (even if your teeth would crack against the metal of his prosthetic).

“No, I won’t!” You sneered, struggling in your bonds.

Captain’s face leaned closer, his breath puffing against your lips as he spoke:

“I’ll have you creaming and dusting yourself like a pathetic, needy slut. And you’ll learn to beg for it.”

He stood up, once again leaving you clueless about what he was about to do to you. The stocks prevented you from movement, but also blocked out any way of catching in your peripheral vision what was happening behind it. No way for you to prepare yourself for whatever the Captain did.

He slid your green bottoms down your legs in one swift move. You shrieked and tried to kick him. A cold, metal grip crushed your ankle. Your bones rattled, the pressure of his hold warning you of how easily he could break you if he wished.

“Keep your feet on the floor, or I’ll shackle them too.” He barked, releasing your leg.

You considered kicking him again, but then your brain lost the ability to connect thoughts to motions as another slap jerked your body.

His hand met your bare skin now, the sting of it more intense. He gave you no pause as he began raining steady hits across your ass. Your body tensed, heat from the burning in your butt spreading in waves through your body. Perspiration shone on your skin, your breathing growing heavier.

Then his fingers teased along your parted folds, dipping into shameful wetness that dripped out of you.

You couldn’t comprehend how he managed that. The spanking has hurt, it shouldn’t rouse your body. Your position was humiliating. You were a captive against your will! And yet… Captain Rogers had you trembling with growing need.

“Nooo!” You moaned a protest when his fingers gathered your wetness and started circling your clit.

Your thighs tensed. You wanted nothing more but to close them and stop this madness, but Captain slotted himself between them, the fabric of his pants abrasive on your delicate skin.

“Yes, sprite.” He rubbed your nub harder. “Let it go.”

He watched, mesmerized, as your skin started glowing. A delicate shimmer at first that turned brighter as your arousal spiked. The higher he pushed you the more dust appeared. Your skin looked like it was covered in a layer of sweet glitter. Your wings seemed to be encrusted with crushed gems, sprinkles falling all around as your wings fluttered.

A single long, big finger slid into you, spearing through your tight walls. An intrusion that set everything inside you on fire, causing the fairy dust to fall all around as you seized in pleasure.

He kept pushing into you, even as you sagged. Pleading noises bubbled on your lips; for what, you weren’t even sure anymore. A second finger joined the first, stretching you. He curled them and the spot he nudged elicited another lewd moan from you.

Captain’s cool, metal hand touched the small of your back. Surprisingly gently this time. He slid his fingers up, teasing the underside of your wing. Silver metal of his prosthetic covered in the thick brilliance of your dust, sparkles of rainbow caught in the light.

He moved his hand further and gripped your wing a tad harder, not enough to cause pain though. That, combined with incessant thrusting of his fingers, toppled you over another peak.

You came with a hoarse cry, dropping your head low as dust fluttered from your fingers which clenched and straightened in spasm as you rode out your orgasm.

When he pulled out his fingers, a squelch of your sopping pussy humiliated you further. His metal hand gave your folds a little pat; you had to clench your jaw to stop another moan from falling out.

Captain remained quiet. No teasing words, no victorious jab.

You thought you heard him hum in delight. A silent pause stretched. Then a loud groan.

“Fuck.” His low, husky voice sent a shiver up your spine.

His steps sounded heavier as he moved, as if he suddenly gained more weight or strength. He squatted in front of you. Your head felt heavy as you slowly lifted it up to look at him.

His irises weren’t simply blue anymore. They mirrored a jeweled shimmer of fairy dust.

His skin seemed aglow, too. All of him pulsed with power.

“That I did not know, sweet sprite.” He said, wonder and hunger bursting a starlight in his eyes.

“That your juices are more potent than a whole bottle of fairy dust.” He licked his lips as if savoring the taste. “I merely sucked your slick off my fingers and the power that it gave me? Oh, sprite- I feel it charging through me like a lightning bolt.”

“A thimble of fairy dust gives a kick. A nice high with some enhanced perks for a short while. Your cream? It’s a storm in veins, sprite. A little lick and I’m a step from a god.”

“No! No, please, no, you can’t-” Your brain turned frantic, fear creeping up through your still softened with pleasure body.

If he told anyone of that, not only would your fate be chained to the gutter, but all the other fairies would be at risk. Hunted and ripped apart for limitless greed of monsters like Captain Rogers.

“Relax, little sprite.” His hand cupped your cheek, his voice almost soothing. His eyes, a galaxy of captivating darkness. “I have no intention of sharing this power with anyone. No, sweetling, I’ll be the only one you give it to.”

“The others will pay high for the dust you sprinkle around plentifully. But your sweet, tiny cunt? It belongs to me now.”

He leaned in, sealing your lips with his own. You tasted yourself on his tongue, your juices not having the same effect on you as it did on him, but the hunger of his kiss stirred something inside you.

He broke the kiss with a bite to your lip, which he soothed with a flick of his tongue. Then he was standing up and moving again, until he nestled himself between your thighs.

His hands squeezed your buttocks, spreading them to allow him even easier access to your glistening, puffy folds. He licked you with a broad stroke of his tongue; the sensation made you shudder, your hips tilting upwards in an involuntary invitation.

He devoured you, mouthing on your pussy as if it was the juiciest, sweetest fruit. He lapped up each trickle of your slick, forced his tongue inside then swirled it around your clit. Bristles of his beard brushed your skin, adding to the hazy pleasure. You knew you’ll have burns from how ferociously he ate you out.

You came into his mouth, despite trying to hold it off. Your whimpers mixed with Captain’s groan of delight.

He licked you clean, wasting no single drop, then trailed hot open mouthed kisses across your inner thigh and over your ass. Your legs shook as he straightened up. Rustling of fabric reached your ears, your dizzy brain recognizing clothes being taken off.

“Might be a tight fit, sprite.” Captain’s husky chuckle made your pussy clench.

Your weak whine unfurled into a wanton moan as the tip of his big cock stretched your opening.

Captain Rogers was much larger than you in size overall, you never considered before that he may be proportionately bigger in every detail of his body. The breach of his cock felt nearly painful, yet his girth seemed to rub against spots which were never touched properly before.

He kept pushing in, in, in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He pierced into you deeper, filing you completely.

“You taste amazing and you feel exquisite, too.” He gripped your hip with his metal hand and the curve of your upper wing with his flesh one as he bottomed out.

“Ah, sprite! You’re so tight around me I may want to stay inside forever.”

He ran his fingers along the curve of your wing, sending little shocks straight to your core. Your pussy fluttered, sipping more slick.

“You like that, sweetling?” Captain purred, stroking your wing again, at the same time rocking his hips into you slowly. “Yeah, you do. I’ll make you see fireworks. Turn you into a little sparkling firework, too.”

Tightening his hold on you, he withdrew. Then slammed back into you with force, evoking your cry.

He fucked you with steady, deep thrusts, speeding up when your skin covered in new sheen of dust. Glittering powder seeped through his fingers where they rested on your wing; speckles of dust flaked from your thighs and ass with each sharp slap of his hips.

Your whole body tensed, wings spreading wide and feet nearly flying off the floor as his cock drove into a particularly sensitive spot. You saw stars bursting white in your eyes and your whole body glimmered with a powdered rainbow.

Your cries grew louder, then your voice scraped raw after another, and another climax. Still, Captain was fucking you through it. You had no idea if it was him alone, or if your magic that he gorged on made him able to last so long.

When he finally finished, spilling inside you with a loud, beastly grunt, you were sweaty and shiny, and completely boneless. You nearly dropped to your knees when Captain slipped out and let go of you.

With a breathless chuckle, he wrapped an arm under you and pulled you up. With his other hand he opened the padlock and released you from the stockade. You fell into his arms half-consciously, even your wings felt heavy, dropping down, too tired to make any motion.

“See, little sprite, you dusted for me in abundance.” He mocked your earlier rebellion as he scooped you up.

The floor was covered in a thick layer of sparkling dust. Enough to fill a few vials.Your small feet left an imprint in the shimmery drizzle in the spot from which Captain picked you up.

You had no strength to fight him when Rogers carried you across the suite. He opened the birdcage and sat you down on fluffy pillows. Arranged your body quite comfortably in your new, narrow prison. He locked it and swayed the cage with a gentle push.

He watched you with clear, untired eyes (still sparkling with extreme power), while you peeked at him through heavy eyelids. You saw him wrap his fingers around his softening cock, gathering your mixed juices and bringing his hand up to his face. He licked it clean, his irises anew igniting with power.

His skin glowed, though you weren’t sure if it’s only the sweat from your coupling, or if your magic thrummed beneath his skin so vividly. His muscles looked to be carved from marble. Veins curved in places which you never paid attention to in any man.

He looked like a god he claimed to feel like.

A beautiful monster who you should despise for the rest of your life, no matter how your body shivered under his touch.

“Rest now, sprite.” Captain cooed as your head leaned against one of the bars. “If you prove to be good, you might earn yourself bed rights someday.”

He swayed the cage again, rocking you to sleep. Despite your effort to stay awake, to not waste a second and start forming a plan of escape, drowsiness was taking over your exhausted body.

You fell asleep as you watched Captain pull on his pants - and nothing else - and bend over the map table, scribbling something down. A new course to lands where he could profit from your dust.

Or doomed places where he could test the power that owning you gave him.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #once upon a time challenge #dark fairytale #boxofbonesfic challenge #boxofbonesfic #make the dust fly

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ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

It's Cold Outside.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Synopsis: A stranger has weaseled his way into every aspect of your life.

Warnings: Yandere themes, non-con/dub-con (the reader is under the influence of aphrodisiacs but non-consensually), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, threats of violence, stalking, manipulation, Chrollo the Creepster, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 2.2k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

(You’re The) Devil in Disguise by Elvis Presley

Salvatore by Lana Del Ray

Who Is She? by I Monster

Kiss Of Fire by Georgia Gibbs

Money, Money, Money by ABBA

Sex with a Ghost by Teddy Hyde

4:00A.M. by Taeko Onuki

How I’d Kill by Cowboy Malfoy

Sonne by Rammstein

The Great Gig in the Sky by Pink Floyd

“I say let the world go to hell, but I should always have my tea.” — Fyodor Dostoevsky, Notes from the Underground

*~*~*~*

i. “Technicolor worlds with white clouds are bound to be destroyed by silver snow.”

When you step into your house, it is like you are instantly transported back to a year ago. Everything in sight, from the walls to the shelves, has decorations of some kind, whether going all out with the kitchen table having an entire feast of delicious holiday treats made by your grandparents, or just a green and red painting of a Christmas tree placed in your older sister’s usually monochromatic room. Perhaps the painting is yet another way she proves that she can somewhat react well to requests to change her room a little bit. Even if the painting is on the farthest wall from the door and is partially hidden from view by the many anime figurines and books larger than your head. Your mother claims that it is a miracle she convinced her to put up any holiday decorations in her room at all and thus doesn’t bother her further.

Each room also has a different festive scent, your younger sister’s room having a hot chocolate scent mixed with the smell of piled up dishes on her desk, most coming from when she was ‘helping’ your grandparents cook by ‘testing to make sure the food isn't poison’.

How heroic of her to sacrifice herself for the family.

Your room, you think, looks much better than your sisters’ combined, having decked it out to the maximum by taking out all of your Halloween decorations and replacing them with Christmas ones. It took you the whole weekend, sure, and caused you to break the bank, but your love for accessories outweighs your logic and reason by quite a lot. Your beloved record player is back on your table that also simultaneously houses your television and jewelry playing Elvis Presley’s Blue Christmas. A wreath larger than your torso is on your door and your room smells like all the holiday air fresheners you found in your closet. Pine, peppermint, orange, lemon, cranberry… all mix to make a beautiful festive scent unmatched by even your parents’ bedroom. Everything is how it should be, and how it always is every year.

Well, almost. A man named Chrollo, a man who gives you anything but comfort, has been invited to your family-only yearly Christmas party. When your father, who has always been too protective of you and your sisters and never lets you spend time with the opposite gender, told you that Chrollo of all people would be attending, you tried to argue otherwise. You tried telling him that none of you had known Chrollo for so long, but he had rebutted Chrollo’s lie that you had known him for over a year with you two developing a close bond. You realized it was too late then, and Chrollo had charmed your entire family, with even your older sister always having a smile on her face whenever she saw him at her workplace.

ii. “Like actors, each snowflake has a different role to play. They sing along with every step of a boot as a deceitful way to express their pain.”

The moment the doorbell chimes, its piercing resonance assaults your eardrums and causes an unsettling shiver to course through your spine.

You find yourself in an unsettling situation as your family eagerly awaits, and to your dismay, you are the designated individual tasked with the responsibility of opening the door. You two are such good friends, aren’t you? We wouldn’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.

You want to say he is lying, to tell them everything, every threat he has told you, him meaning them or otherwise. But as soon as they know of what Chrollo really and truly is, they will meet a painful end; that being pushed onto train tracks, their drink being laced with a poison that destroys the body from the inside out, or having nails thrusted into their bloody palms as they hang on their bedroom wall as you look in horror. Elton, Anya, and Robert all being examples of such… You don’t want to think of the bodies just waiting to rot around the Riverbend, your fault or otherwise.

You also don’t want to drown in this river. A river inhospitable to any aquatic life whatsoever, and only harbors a barrier of carnivorous plants that eat those who dare come close. Butterworts, large lilac purple ones that feel like they have been dipped in the most tempting butter mixed with forbidden fruit and honey produced by none other than the queen bee herself. Are you the fly, or are they? You have no idea, and you don’t want to find out.

“Hello.” Your response is concise and devoid of warmth, with a noticeable absence of your usual cheerful demeanor evident in your expression and tone.

Chrollo's smile is so sinister that even the most depraved devil's grin would pale in comparison, with all the large gift bags behind him swinging like a tail.

“Ah, [First]. Happy holidays. No need to be so cold, you know. The snow is already doing that for you. So-”

Despite your strong desire to slam the door in his face, you choose to step aside and allow him entry, in an attempt to silence him.

“Put the gifts by the tree by the kitchen table. The white table and not the black one.”

However, rather than fulfilling your expectations, all he does is elicit a burst of laughter so unique that it resonates within you, while discreetly handing over the most colossal gift bag, compelling you to accept it as if under some intangible force.

“Just a little something. I know it’s customary to wait until later but… I simply can’t help myself. Open it whenever you get the chance, dearest.”

…He means right now, in your room, doesn’t he? Perhaps he installed a camera in your room as you slept, he has certainly threatened to do that before. Or maybe he will just spy on you through the little space between the door and the frame. He has done that before, after all.

…

You resisted the urge to scream when you saw a picture of your mother sleeping blissfully, the camera focused on her ring finger with the caption Should I take another souvenir? written on it, but the card, as beautiful as it appeared with a lace envelope and your name written in script on the card’s cover above Chrollo’s, proved to be even more of a challenge. When you read the words on it, your heart plunges so deeply that you fear your gastric acid will erode it.

Save your tears. For even if you cry to the whole world, it will never be enough to make me disappear. Meet me outside in five minutes, and make whatever excuse you deem necessary. No exceptions.

As you begin to read further, a wave of fragrant and delicate floral scents envelops your senses, instantly igniting a warm sensation in your head, leaving no time for contemplation.

Trying to ignore your slight dizziness, you read the rest of the card.

Just a little something to make sure you do this. We wouldn’t want your family to see you in… what state you are about to be in, do we?

…Just what did he do to you?

iii. “With the burden of wintertime ending, nature spends time creating beautiful trees and flowers. To accompany them, she makes twisted vines and weeds, for she knows that without them there cannot be balance or purpose in being comfortably numb.”

You were on your back, on his bed, within what felt like one second, not remembering the car ride over to his place, your wrists pinned beneath the strength of one of Chrollo's hands while he looked down at you within another, his other undoing the tie of the bandana on his forehead and showing you, for the very first time, of the cross tattoo underneath it.

All you can do is watch your whole world slow down and be replaced by a dream.

A blissful and sweet dream, as sugary as saccharine and as dissolvable as cotton candy, that is a veil and covers your eyes from what is happening; until it is too late, until you feel some of his fingers go into the band of your skirt and start pulling and pulling, downward, and that is when terror went to combat with your unwanted lust.

“...What… are… you… doing…? Chroooooo…” Your words slur as your mind buzzes with euphoria, and you can feel every sensation in vivid detail, every touch and every breath feeling heightening and intoxicating. As much as you want to, you can’t tell him to stop, not now.

“Shh, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” At least that is what you think he said, because as Chrollo spoke, you struggled to decipher his words amidst the haze that enveloped your mind. Reality fragments, leaving you unable to muster the strength to plead for him to cease. “It will feel oh so very good, I promise. Very, very nice and very, very good.” With that, you come to realize the wetness between your rubbing thighs, amidst the cloudiness and the larger-than-life headache that rips your skull apart. “Do you trust me?” The voice sounds almost heartfelt, not as intimate as it could be, but it was still more than enough for your hands to cling to him and pull him in closer, faster, so he could relieve you of this hell. “I will assume that that is a yes.” His hands move to the two buttons on your blouse, undoing them with ease, softly, gently, like it was a baby bird.

“Faster… faster…!” You feel like a man who hasn’t seen water on any day of their life, and if you lose the location of the oasis you are sure to never find it again.

Like a man lost in the desert, you choke on imaginary quicksand, soon to drown if water does not save you.

“Aw, such a precious little thing, aren’t you?” You are gently flipped over in an instant and he unbuckles your bra, quickly.

“If you love me… really love me… make me feel better… please.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He flips you over again and his fingers lower to your panties, pulling them down from your trembling legs, just like he did with your skirt. “You trust me after all, don’t you?”

You cry out yes after utterly desperate yes, as he watches, his smile getting wider as he starts undoing his belt. He puts a finger on your lips after he has heard enough, shushing you gently.

“Then trust me when I say that this, my dear, is for your own good.”

Beneath the surface, whether it be shallow or not, you have no desire to comprehend his intentions.

You don’t want to know. You just want this to go away.

iv. “Through discoveries, there is a hint of madness that enters our minds. Only then can we see our world’s colors change from squid ink and bone to begonias and finches.”

Chrollo undoes his belt, then his pants, and then his boxers. You focus on his face to ignore what is currently nearly touching the side of the mattress by a hair or two, hard and enlarged and slightly pink and-

He takes off his shirt button after button, much, much, much slower than how he took off the rest of his clothing. There exists a deep-seated anger within you, yet it is accompanied by a sense of gratitude, as both you and he are aware of your mutual aversion towards this situation.

Despite both of you being aware that this is not your desired outcome, he still kisses you, gently, full of warmth, and tenderly. What you truly desire is to satisfy the ache within you. But he won’t give it to you yet, will he?

Time seems to drag on as his kisses get faster, and more hungry, with his tongue essentially becoming another of your muscles, wet, and neither wanted nor unwanted.

Eventually, you get what you want, after enough begging for him to just get it over with. At the beginning, there is a gentle caress resembling a warm and velvety rose petal. However, as time progresses, the touch becomes increasingly forceful until his fingers enter. But it does not hurt. Should you be thankful for that? At least he is being nice.

He starts thrusting, and that also does not hurt. No soreness. You won't feel any discomfort until your eyes meet, causing a sensation that almost makes you want to throw up, were it not for the illicit satisfaction this dreadful encounter brings. It's a peculiar kind of pain, one that lingers like a ghost stealthily gliding through walls, catching you off guard before you can comprehend its presence.

Nothing hurts, and that in of itself gives you the most pain anyone could imagine.

v. “Heat lightning gives way to summer storms and verdant wind. This makes for a hauntingly beautiful melody of ripples and thunder.”

“…And this maiden, she lived with no other thought than to love and be loved by me.”

vi. “The dead, fallen leaves of autumn come in many shades from bright red to a dull brown. They flow with the wind from one place to the next as invitations from those who passed on to the living.”

#TIME TO WRITE SIN..........#(sweats nervously)#author aya #yandere #yandere x reader #hxh #phantom troupe #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #chrollo hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo x reader #not sfw #yandere hxh x reader #hxh x reader

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fireheart223 · 2 years

Text

Fireheart's Masterlist!

Hello, I'm Fireheart! You can call me Fire for short! I'm 16 and have ADD, and tend to go off on rambles when I get excited. I use she/her pronouns. I also like lots of things, and I'm in MANY different fandoms and tend to abruptly switch whichever one I'm hyperfixate on! Right now, I'm obsessed with G.I. Joe, specifically the Sunbow cartoon! I'm currently trying to learn German on Duolingo! Below is some stuff on my blog you can check out! Just be warned, there's a lot of stuff down there! Art tags are: #my art, #fireheart draws, and #fireheart art! Original posts tag is (well, mostly original posts (because I briefly forgot the purpose/meaning of some of my tags a while ago...) #fireheart speaks

I hope you enjoy your stay!

Other Social Media Accounts:

My YouTube Main Channel

My YouTube Backup Channel

My Discord: Fireheart223

My Deviantart Account

My Twitter Account

My Backup Twitter Account

My TikTok

My Instagram

Contact Email:

[email protected] and [email protected]

Lost Media Dubs:

Below is a list of Lost Media that I'm searching for. Red means the dub is Completely Lost, Green is unknown/unsure about it's existence, Yellow means the dub has been Partially Found, and Orange means that I am unsure if it's actually missing episodes or not because of lack of information/nothing mentioning the actual episode number of the dub/contradicting information from different sources (whether it be almost every/every source contradicting or some/a few/several sources contradicting each other). If you have any footage, information, corrections, or are interested in helping me search for these dubs, you can contact me at either of the emails above. Thank you!

Arabic Dub:

تابالوغا التنين الأخضر/تابالوغا/Green Dragon Tabaluga/Tabaluga

Still compiling info, all episodes were supposedly dubbed, but only the pilot, the Season 3 intro and 58 seconds of an episode after the intro ends remains of the dub so far

Basque/Euskera/Euskara Lost Media:

Donkey Kong eta bere herrialdea/Donkey Kong and his country: Compiling info, all episodes were dubbed, and at one point we're most of the episodes were found, but they were taken down by I guess either Nelvana or Nintendo (I say this because the people who posted the links weren't aware of the links no longer working) and now the intro is all that remains of this dub. UPDATE (12/2/22): ALMOST THE ENTIRE BASQUE DUB HAS BEEN FOUND! ONLY 3 EPISODES ARE MISSING NOW!!! Here's the link to where the episodes are!

Catalan Lost Media:

Tabaluga (Compiling Info)

Chinese (Cantonese) Lost Media:

Tabaluga Cantonese Dub: Compiling info, title of the dub is unknown, no footage is left, and I am left unsure whether or not this dub even exists at all.

Spanish (Spain)/Español/Spain Spanish/Castilian/Castellano/Español de España Lost Media:

El País de Donkey Kong (Castilian/Castellano/Español de España Dub)

Danish/Dansk Lost Media:

Tabaluga (Danish Dub): Compiling info, the Season 1 intro, I believe, I'm not sure, it was one of the intros though, was on YouTube, but my stupid lazy ass didn't archive it, and it has become privated, so unless someone has archived it, the only footage of this dub has disappeared.

Finnish Lost Media:

Donkey Kong Country Finnish Dub (Still Compiling Info)

French/France French/France Français/Français/Française Lost Media:

Tabaluga Saison 1: It seems that Season 1 may have been dubbed in Français, however, any footage of this season have been lost to the sands of time except for two videos that show a Saison 1 intro

Greek Lost Media:

Ταμπαλούγκα (Alter Version): Compiling info, but it seems only one episode and a possible second version of the intro has survived, but I don't know how many episodes were dubbed

Ταμπαλούγκα (PIK2 Version): I don't know how many episodes were dubbed, and I haven't anything on this second dubbing and no footage seems to be left, so I am unsure if it even exists

Hindi Lost Media:

Donkey Kong Hindi Dub (Compiling Info)

Hungarian Lost Media:

Tabaluga Hungarian Dub (M2 Version)

Icelandic Lost Media:

Tabalúgi (Compiling Info)

Italian Lost Media:

Donkey Kong Italian Dub (Apparently completely dubbed and finished off, but was Unreleased)

Korean Lost Media:

타발루가 / 꼬마용 타발루가 (Tabaluga/Tabaluga For Kids): (Compiling Info, but the link has the info I've found thus far)

Norwegian/Norsk Lost Media:

Donkey Kong Country Norwegian/Norsk Dub

Polish/Poliski Lost Media:

Donkey Kong Polish Dub (Compiling info)

Portuguese/Europe Portuguese/European Portuguese/Portuguese (European) Lost Media:

Tabaluga Portuguese Dub: (Compiling Info)

Donkey Kong Country Portuguese Dub: (Compiling Info)

Portuguese/Brazilian Portuguese/Brazil Protuguese/Portuguese (Brazilian)/Portuguese (Brazil) Lost Media:

Donkey Kong Dublado

Romanian Lost Media:

Tabaluga Romanian Dub: (Compiling info, but a Romanian dubbed version of Tabaluga and Leo does definitely exist

Russian Lost Media:

Табалуга (CTC/STS) First Season 2 Dub: (Still compiling some info, but most of the info I've found can be found in the link)

Swedish Lost Media:

Donkey Kongs Värld

Ukrainian Lost Media:

Табалуґа (Compiling info)

#fireheart speaks #tabaluga #dkc #donkey kong country #donkey kong country cartoon #donkey kong cartoon #dkc tv show #dkc cartoon #donkey kong tv show #fireheart rambles #this is ok to reblog btw #lost media #lost dubs #lost media dubs #partially found media #partially found dubs #partially lost dubs #partially lost media

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 9 months

Note

Bestie its me ur fave Nathan Bateman defender 💅💅 can I request anything Nathan? Like free range bestie (ik for some authors it's a hassle to be requested something with no info but its ok if u dont) like go crazy with him. Just need more Nathan content ❤️❤️ ily and thank you bestie 🤸‍♀️

ANYTHING NATHAN? YOU GOT IT. (I'm so sorry what is this? What have I written? Help.) ILYSM❤️

Nathan Bateman x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Summary: Nathan's a pretty heavy sleeper.

A/N: Nathan and Reader are already in a relationship.

Warnings: somnophilia, I'm gonna say dub con because Nathan is asleep and it is only vagely hinted at that the consent has been previously established, blow job, fingering, swearing, typos, overuse of italics, railroad sentences, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 991

________________________________

While you weren’t sure what time Nathan went to bed last night, or what time it was now (other than early morning), but, you did know that he had decided to sleep in your bed. Not his.

His beard was tickling your shoulder, his gentle and even breaths warming your back.

One arm was slung over your waist while the other, in classic Nathan fashion, was pressed against the headboard at an angle you would have assumed was uncomfortable.

You needed to stretch. And, despite the comfort of waking up in his embrace, he was oldly warm. A human furnace. How he wasn’t sweating astounded you.

It seemed impossible that someone that slept naked could produce so much heat.

Carefully, you wiggled out from underneath his arm. Trying your best not to wake him or jostle the bed too much.

You were nearly home free, out without being a disturbance, when somehow you caught Nathan just as he was moving in his sleep.

A sigh escaped your lips, ready for a Textbook Nathan grumble. But it never came.

He had just moved with the push and was now sleeping soundly flat on his back, part of the bedcovers twisted around his calf.

Huh.

Seemed like he was a heavy sleeper.

He must have come to bed late.

You chewed at your bottom lip as a wicked thought started to grow in your mind.

He looked so peaceful, innocent even. If such a word could ever be used to describe Nathan. Especially since he had a habit of grooming his public hair into ridiculous shapes. Something you were sure he only really started doing to amuse you. Currently it was a heart.

Perhaps it was time for a little revenge for all the times he woke you up at 2am with his face between your legs.

Languidly you moved a little closer, running the tip of your forefinger up the length of his dick. Just to judge the reaction, see how heavy of a sleeper he really was.

Nathan’s breathing didn’t even change.

You grinned.

Still keeping your eyes on his face to watch for any signs of waking, you laid down on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows and leaning over to suck the tip of his cock into your mouth.

Nothing.

You moved your body closer, risking leaning partially on his thigh and hip, as you licked up the length of him, swirling your tongue around the head and teasing his slit.

His cock jumped under your attention, quickly hardening as Nathan’s breathing hitched ever so slightly. The rise and fall of his chest increasing even as his eyes stayed closed.

You pumped him a few times, smearing your saliva along the thick length of him as a smile pulled on your lips.

While you missed Nathan’s moans and grunts of pleasure, there was something satisfying about having him at your mercy.

You took him into your mouth again, bobbing up and down slowly, trying to let him get deeper each time.

Usually Nathan’s bucking hips (even when he tried not to) made it difficult to deepthroat him, his size alone was enough to make the activity strenuous. And you’d never quite been able to manage it without gagging.

Now however, without his instant squirming you found that you were able to take him deeper than you had before, relaxing your throat as best you could and swallowing around him.

You hummed, getting a little carried away as your own arousal started to burn between your legs.

The idea of maybe being able to take all of him in your mouth made you a little lightheaded, forced you to rub your legs together to just take the edge off.

You picked up the pace, moving up and down, still managing to swallow a little more each time.

His cock was hot and heavy in your mouth, the girth made your jaw throb but you didn’t care as you continued to take him deeper.

Finally you couldn’t ignore the ache between your legs any longer, and you slid one hand down, under your pyjama bottoms for some relief.

Nathan’s breathing had increased exponentially. Small huff of air, and little whispered moans escaping his lips as he still stayed inexplicably asleep.

Part of you wondered what he was dreaming about.

You circled your clit, Nathan’s little groans of pleasure driving you wild as you filled your mouth with his cock.

You were nearly there, almost at the base, just another few centimetres and you could bury your face into the neatly trimmed curls between his legs.

“Fuuuck,” Nathan hissed between his teeth, gasping as he woke up fully to the sight of you. “Oh god, baby,” he whined, stretching back for a moment to try to stop himself from thrusting upwards, “taking me so deep.”

He groaned obscenely. Trying to get himself under control by sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, anything to distract himself from the warmth of your mouth.

That was when he noticed your hand down the front of your pyjamas.

And he lost it.

He moaned loudly, grabbing hold of your shoulder, trying to warn you. But it was too late. He came hard, unable to control the mindless bucking of his hips as he filled your mouth and throat.

The timing, thankfully, had just been right. You had been breathing out as he came and managed to not choke to death on his release.

He gasped as you kept sucking, milking him for every last drop he could give, before pulling away and grinning.

“Good morning.” You smiled.

“Good fucking morning.” He breathed, laying back heavily against the bed.

You chuckled.

He sat up a little to look at you. “What time is it?”

You shook your head, “I’m not sure, I-”

“It’s pussy eating time, that’s what it is.” He growled as he pounced on you, smothering you with kisses as you laughed.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @mbakubabe @whatthefishh @romanarose @pimosworld @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#nathan bateman #ex machina #nathan bateman x reader #x reader #nathan bateman x you #x you #nathan bateman x female reader #x female reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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and-knowing-is-half-the-battle · 1 year

Text

Stay

Brahms Heelshire x fem!reader

Length: 1.6k

18+ only, mature content. Do not copy/repost

Warnings: dub con/non con, chasing, groping, overstimulation, biting, begging, kissing, restraining, squirting, cum eating, “loss” of virginity, p in v sex, creampie. Some possessiveness. No use of y/n.

Don’t ask how I got sucked into this fandom. I’m just a horny person, ya’ll.

https://64.media.tumblr.com/faac1d2f5c6624be26e901cef4a2bf17/ca6020ad9b558133-36/s540x810/5fe05f4cc71b2536455f8857bdf4634701d25e31.gifv

Gif courtesy of: hereticstations (if it will load, dammit)

@hereticstations

"Get back here!"

His growl reverberated off the walls of the narrow passage as you scrambled to the small hatch that stood between you and safety. The seconds dragged as you pawed at the latch and dug your shoulder into the warped wood, knowing he was approaching.

You sobbed in relief when it finally popped open, the cool air swirling around your face and filling your lungs in contrast to the dusty, close air you crawled out of.

You were halfway out when his large hand closed around your ankle.

He pulled you back inside, your resistance no match for his seemingly superhuman strength. He tugged you securely under him, his form hovering over yours as you trembled. You watched the expressionless porcelain over his face, trying to read the shadows of his eyes. You saw him drink you in, his gaze registering your disheveled state. Your skirt had ridden up, a peek of underwear visible at your hip. The strap of your dress hung off your shoulder as your chest heaved from the scuffle. And your sweater had tangled up behind you, restricting your arms.

You were begging him before he opened his mouth.

"If I make you feel good, you will stay." He breathed, ignoring your pleas. He lowered himself onto you, using one hand to steady himself and leaving the other free to roam your body. You tried to wriggle away, but his heavy form pinned you just enough to prevent escape. His warm hand traveled gently up your bare thigh, slipping beneath your dress to slowly slide up your side and pause just below your breast. His eyes never left your face. You could feel them boring into you even as you turned away, your own screwed shut. As the tips of his fingers grazed over your bra, you became aware of his hardness against your leg, your struggling only resulting in stimulating him further. You clearly heard his breathing hitch, the sound amplified against the inside of his mask.

The feeling of your soft skin against his at last made him drunk. He was torn between the need to savor every inch of you and the desire to tear into you. To take you apart the way you had done to him without a single touch.

A moment of ferocity took hold of him as he turned you over effortlessly, tearing your clothes off you layer by layer. He found your soft cries of refusal strangely exhilarating. There was so much he had been denied over the years, and it was time for him to experience something fully. No more meager substitutions, no more partial glimpses between wooden slats, no more walls between him and what he wanted.

You were but a doll in his grip as he manhandled you back over and rose up to his knees to get his first full look at you. He loomed, his broad chest expanding further with each heavy breath. You waited, breathless and frozen as he deliberately discarded his cardigan and shrugged his suspenders from his shoulders before bearing down on you again. Your brain jolted into action and you pushed against his chest, your efforts not slowing him in the slightest.

His hands found your breasts first, a gentle grip as his thumbs brushed against your nipples, which peaked in response. He leaned forward, his gaze glued to your lips as you whimpered.

“No, please, Brahms,” Your skin soon became sensitive to his touch and your hips jerked reflexively. He gripped your arms and pulled you up into his embrace, guiding your legs to straddle him. One of his large hands splayed against your back, effectively holding you in place as he continued to explore you. The nose of his mask trailed down the column of your neck as his other hand clutched your ass and he groaned deeply, the sound rumbling in his chest. He hesitated briefly before lifting his mask just enough to free his mouth. Between the dim lighting and his proximity, you only caught a glimpse of his lips before he dove in to lick and nip at your skin. You tried again to push away from him, your arms trapped between you, but his arms were iron as he bit into your shoulder and you cried out helplessly.

His lips soon slotted over yours, his tongue invading your mouth. He tasted of mint with a hint of metallic blood, his tongue eagerly swirling over yours. He backed you into the wall before he grabbed your hips, guiding them to roll over him, your core catching against the crotch of his pants. You whined into his mouth despite yourself, feeling your wetness starting to gather.

He felt foggy, his senses sharp but his mind falling further beneath the waves of you. Drowning and diving deeper without hesitation. He was instantly enamored with each sound, movement, taste. He found himself frustrated at the hindrance of his mask and without thought ripped it from his face, quickly returning to your pliant mouth. It was then that the smell of you came to his nose, and he breathed deeply, intoxicated. He looked down, both curious and electrified at the wet patch over his groin. You squirmed when he dipped his hand down to gather it so he could examine it closer. It stretched between his fingers, slippery to the touch, tangy to his nostrils … and it was in his mouth before he thought about what he was doing.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he hummed appreciatively. When he dipped down again, his eyes not leaving your face, he pressed his fingers to your clit and a wave of heat rushed through him at the way your mouth dropped open with a moan. He moved his fingers instinctively, gauging your reaction and chasing your pretty noises.

You weren’t sure of when you had given in, but your hands were tangled in his hair as you ground down on him. You had only taken a moment to adjust to his true face, much of it untouched by the scars. He pulled you from your thoughts with another passionate kiss, his other hand wrapped around your throat. A tightness was building deep in your stomach, your wailing becoming higher and more frenzied. You needed more, your hands scrambling down his back to push under the hem of his shirt. To feel his skin against you. The hand around your neck slid down, once again cradling your breast and swiping over your nipple in time with the fingers on your clit, now circling it with fervor and sending you over the edge with a breathless scream.

You were gorgeous like this, clinging to him while he pulled you through your orgasm, gushing in his lap. Even when you melted against him, he couldn’t stop himself, his fingers playing you like he had a lifetime of practice at your keys. Your hips jerked against him and your sounds changed to whimpers, your legs pressing on either side of him, attempting to close. Your small hands found their way to the fly of his pants, tugging at the material impatiently. He reluctantly pulled his fingers from you, again cleaning them against his tongue before removing what was left of his clothing. You watched him with heavily lidded eyes, and he was the only man in the world.

You felt painfully empty, your body screaming with need as he stripped, revealing his taut muscles, hairy torso, and his angrily leaking cock. You pushed against his shoulder and he obeyed, laying so you could climb atop him. You wrapped your hand around his shaft, a moan falling from his parted lips even before you guided him to your entrance. When you sunk slowly onto his girth, you groaned in unison at the tight fit. You leaned over him, trailing small kisses up his thick neck as you began to bounce on him, sounds practically exploding from his mouth. You took your time, letting you both adjust to the sensation of him entering you over and over again. He was a whining mess by the time you pulled back, circling your hips over him while his hands slid over your body, seemingly mesmerized. He caught one of your nipples in his mouth, both of you keening as your walls clenched down on him in response. When you sat upright and began bouncing again, the change in angle made you both breathless, and his hands flew to your hips in a bruising grip. He was coming undone: his eyes shut tight and his mouth hanging open, his chest heaving as he flung his head back, and you could watch it forever.

He surprised you by planting his feet and fucking up into you, somehow hitting your g-spot with precision. You sobbed, starting to wilt, but his hand returned to your throat, holding you aloft as he wound the coil inside you with each stroke. It didn’t take long for you to fall apart on his cock, your pussy spasming around him as you screamed. He stared at you as you looked at him through tears, his grunts increasing in ferocity. His thrusts became sloppy and he choked on his moans as he spilled inside you, the warmth blooming as you started to come down from your high. He stilled and released his grip, and you flopped onto his chest as you both caught your breath.

“You will stay now?” He broke the silence, sounding unsure as the haze cleared from your minds.

“I will stay now,” You reassured, your fingers threading through his. He sighed in relief.

“Yes. You are mine.”

#smut #tw smut #tw sex #brahms heelshire #brahms hillshire x reader #brahms hillshire x you #brahms hillshire #brahms #brahms imagine #brahms hillshire smut

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purplelupins · 1 year

Text

Happy Together

Part I Part Il Part III

The Black Phone

Albert Shaw × Fem!reader

Summary: Nothing like a new city. You just wanted a fresh start, and something comfortable, but what happens when you start to see the exact same patterns in Denver as you did before?

Warnings: the following warning are for the full fic, and not just this first chapter. PLEASE READ THEM. This is a DARK fic.

Dub-con (note that this is a kink so it is actually wanted), Daddy kink, size kink, pet names (princess, kiddo, sweetheart, honey and more) mentions of death (including murder, torture etc), cumming in pants, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f and m) begging, breeding kink, innocence kink, biting, adultery, infidelity, stalking, mentions of kidnapping, home break-in, fighting (verbal and physical)...more will be added.

Note: this is a commissioned piece for @mandowifey 🤍🤍

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It’s often perceived as a cliche when someone claims that time stood still for them at a certain moment, but there cannot be a cliche without some truth. Indeed, neither you nor Albert moved an inch for what very well could have been an hour or a mere five seconds.

Your eyes were fused to one another’s.

Locked in a dare to see who would act first.

With adrenaline practically replacing your blood, you moved your hand to your outer thigh faster than ever to grasp the long blade strapped there. However, you weren’t fast enough. Al’s hand found the back of your head and gripped your hair; he yanked your head back in an attempt to knock you off balance, while you found the handle of your knife. Your scalp screamed at you but you paid it no mind.

Acting on the rush coursing through you and the excitement of Albert’s equal fight, you brought your foot up and hit him square in the diaphragm. In the back of your consciousness, you could head Samson barking from another room, but you couldn’t focus on that. His grip loosened on you just enough as he coughed, and you took the opportunity to lunge at him; you managed a solid punch to his injured cheek- knocking him back in his chair, and landed square in his lap. You heard him hiss, but wasted no time in raising your weapon to his neck and smiling wickedly.

Gotcha.

“You know, Mr. Shaw, I’d prefer it if you bought me dinner before you go pulling on my hair like that.” You moped, sticking your lip out like a child just to toy with the temper you saw flaring behind those dead eyes of his. So pretty.

“You viscous little-“ he started, but you had no reason to show mercy, so you pressed your blade a little more into that vein in his neck that pulsed so beautifully.

I bet it would look just delicious with blood pouring from it…

A shiver went down your spine at how pretty he would look with more blood on him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snapped, eyes ablaze.

You blinked slowly. It was as if his words had to filter in through your brain as you came back from being lost in thought. “I prefer princess, too. Not much of one for name calling.” You tilted your head to the side, eyeing the cut that reopened on his face thanks to you. “Red suits you…” you added, remembering his comment about how blue suited you that day in the diner.

“What do you want?” He rasped, hand still firmly in your hair. Not that it mattered- hell you barely noticed it anymore, it was more comforting now.

“Me?” You thought for a moment to add a little drama, “Oh you guessed most of it…just want a nice man to call my own. Not so bad, hm?” You smiled. “I’m not that unreasonable am I?”

Albert shifted under you, and swallowed against the blade. “And what…you kill along the way?” He asked.

You shrugged like he had only gotten the answer partially correct. “Well…adulterous behaviour needs to be stopped before it starts , you know. Someone needs to suss out the men who don’t deserve all those pretty wives…happily married or not, so why not me?” You scrapped the blade down the stubble on his neck, “Besides, it’s a bonus if they’re desperate enough. Can get a good fuck in before I-“

Your guard had dropped just enough for Al to yank your hair again and grab the arm with the blade that had been poking into him, but not enough for him to get the upper hand. You fought against his vice-like grip on your wrist, huffing out little laughs here and there. He was far stronger than any of the other men you usually engaged with, especially men his age.

You went to use your free hand to deliver another knock to his injury, but it seemed Albert already knew what you had planned before you did. His hand caught your arm a mere centimetre from his cheek, and a smirk pulled at his handsome face. You, however, managed to twist said arm from his remarkably tight grasp with a sharp jab to his collarbone with your elbow. With you momentarily distracted by the small victory, Albert was quick to slam your head into the wall beside you.

Stars sparked before your eyes for a few moments.

A maniacal laugh bubbled up from your chest when you bounced back- barely deterred. If anything the knock had given you a jump in energy. Seeing Al’s bewildered, bloody face from your resilience was possibly the best thing you’d seen all year.

Albert could feel his blood growing hotter with each second as his frustration took over.

How the fuck is she so strong?

Neither of you moved for three seconds until realization set in, but when it did indeed kick in, it hit you first. This time, you weren’t playing nice. Before he could grab you again, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and dug the tip of your knife into the base of his skull; the tip was already making a small incision.

“That wasn’t very nice.” You pouted again, “I was just trying to talk-“

“Cut this bullshit out kiddo.” He snapped, shifting his hips as you pinned him to the chair in your new position, “I’m not your demographic, you know that. So what. Do. You. Want?” He growled out, his breath fanning across your face.

You could feel your skin start to buzz the more Al spoke to you; he was smarter than you had anticipated. Observant, analytical, calculated… it all made you warm.

“About that, you seem to know what I like…so what do you like?” You grinned evilly. It seemed only fair that you poke as just many of his buttons, “Although, I think I might have an idea…Please tell me you’re him.”

“Who?” He rasped out- his face had lost most expression long ago. It was lax and deadened now, but his stoic default made you squirm.

“The one they’re all talking about…the one your own brother never shuts up about over there.” You tilted your head to the bulletin board, “The little boy grabber.”

Al’s eye twitched.

“That’s not-“

“Alright, The Grabber.” You said dramatically, smiling in his face.

As Samson continued to howl and bark from Al’s room, the older man showed no signs of distress or discomfort if he was feeling either. Although, you didn’t miss the fact that he was likely growing tired…it wasn’t exactly an optimal time to be awake and he was far from a youthful man. You, however, were in no rush.

“Samson, down!” Albert called out gruffly, followed by silence. Finally after a few minutes of contemplation on his part, Albert sighed,“Yea, they call me that…” he said, running his tongue along one of his canines.

Your eyes lit up and you wiggled with excitement; in doing so, you inadvertently came closer to Albert’s front, which you paid no mind but he cast his eyes away in a last effort to see an escape- or so you assumed.

“No fucking wonder you punched a hole in the wall! How can you listen to him go on about you?” You felt your heart rate pick up, “So what, you like little boys? That’s your thing? What do you do with them? Are they stuffed in your walls? Is it a sexual thing?” Your rapid-fire interrogation began to set Al on edge and you knew it was only a matter of time before he snapped. But sadly for you, Al knew that this was exactly what you wanted.

So instead of snapping at you, he risked getting cut. Albert whipped on of his hands up, and grabbed your cheeks in one hand, squeezing hard as your blade drove into the back of his neck, “You talk too much, kid.” He hissed as blood began to trickle down his spine, but didn’t account for having his hand close to your mouth.

You jerked out of his grasp and sunk your teeth into his hand, and pressed your blade harshly against the cut already made. The two of you both snarled and panted at one another like wild animals, until you finally released his hand; a very noticeable bite mark left behind that he would have to explain everywhere you went. You were delighted.

Watching his pupils expand and contract was hypnotic as he tried to gain control over his rage. You inhaled and sighed out, leaning a little closer. “You’re fun.”

Albert had put you on your tippiest of toes, and you found yourself hoping it would happen again. As if to prove your point, you rolled your hips against him, and gasped when you felt his hardening length twitch. You tsked him and did it again, “What’s this? Grandpa can get hard? What is it? Being over powered by a young woman? The knife? Ooh is that your thing? You get off on being dominated?” You mocked him.

As a smile over took your rosy cheeks, Albert gave into impulse and smacked his forehead into yours with a crack.

“Shut that mouth of yours before I make you shut it again, princess.” He rasped, those sharp crooked teeth of his exposed as his lips pulled thin. But you didn’t miss how his voice seemed to be a little more breathless, nor how you had to resist the urge to draw blood from his lip with your teeth. Your ears still rung from the impact but it only made your need to taunt him further.

“You’re just a filthy old man aren’t you, Mr. Shaw?” You rubbed more deliberately against him and your grin deepened when you felt his hips rock against you despite his stern features.

“I think you need to understand that you’re not the only big shot here in Denver any more…but you knew that as soon as you looked at me didn’t you?” You cooed, dragging the cool blade down his back. “Did you like it?” You breathed.

“What?” He barked, shifting under you.

You rolled your eyes.

“The sweet, scared neighbour! I do love playing the part…” you preened.

He huffed out a laugh.

“You’re a horrible actress.”

“I had you fooled…even if it was just for a few weeks.” You winked, “So sad it’s ending now though…”

You dragged your knife up to his collarbone and pressed, flicking your eyes to his. Soulless meeting soulless.

Daring each other to make the next move.

Then he snapped.

Albert let you cut him as he grabbed your throat and slammed you back against the table. Adrenaline gripped you and you were about to bring your knee into his ribs when the front door opened violently. Both of you whipped your heads towards the sound, and were greeted with the untimely entrance of a distraught Max- his eyes red and shoulders drooping to the ground.

You both froze.

“God Al I’m sorry…” Max started, hands over his face as his emotions took over. Al and you silently released each other, keeping your eyes trained each other lest the other decide to toss caution into the wind, “Shit, I just- you know how I get and I-“ Max seemed to have not even noticed you and Albert in the middle of a life or death fight in the kitchen.

He began rambling on about how he would fix the wall and calm down about his conspiracies, all the while you were still locked eyes with the older man ready to snap your neck. You almost dared him to- you’d love to stare into those baby blues as your life faded. But when Albert didn’t move, and in fact seemed to silently tell you to not even think about doing something, you knew the game was over for the night, and took that as your sign to leave. You retracted your blade, and pushed up and off of his warm lap. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth when you saw the bulge against the leg of his jeans. It was in your best interest to run out the door, and you did; however, not before licking his bottom lip, leaving a string of saliva between you. Albert stared up at you- that thick crease still between his brows that made you want to melt. You smiled at how stern his face was in contrast to clearly how much he had enjoyed the fight…whether he knew it or not.

You were out the door and back home before Max even noticed. The only thing signalling your leave was Samson’s three barks.

Once you shut your front door, you could finally take inventory of your body. Head spinning; muscles aching; heart pounding. But you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft, exhausted laugh as your head fell back against the door. Sweat covered you, and you decided upon a shower as if you had t just stared death in the face and licked its lip. However, when you cast one more look outside your front window, you were met with the same gaze you had just ran from. Albert stood in his living room, Max still pacing behind him, staring unashamedly at his young little neighbour like she hadn’t just given him the best fight of his life.

It was as if you had both just started a game of cat and mouse, but neither of you knew which was the predator and which was the prey.

That night had changed everything. Your smile was sharper and your every step had a spring in it, just in case it was your last. Contrary to what most people would assume, everyday you awoke a little disappointed that you were in your bed with no middle aged man watching you, or evidence of someone snooping through your home. You admittedly wished he would try to frighten you, or actually act on the impulses you knew he felt.

Now when you saw Albert, the waves you exchanged seemed to hold a promise in them; what that exact promise was, however, had yet to be fully decided. A promise of one of you getting to the other…a promise of an eventual understanding…a promise of combined forces…you didn’t know.

What you did know, however, was that you hadn’t felt so giddy in a very long time. Certainly playing the part of a new girl in town was enjoyable while it had lasted and you now had to move on from it at least for Al, but knowing that someone out there knew your secret while harbouring their own made you dizzy with excitement. This was what had you bouncing everyday.

It was a game you had never played.

If you were honest, you were beyond ecstatic to play this particular game with Albert Shaw. There was something so exhilarating about toying with a man as striking as he, and you craved that cold gaze nearly every waking moment.

You wanted to see him angry.

Scared.

Amused.

Frustrated.

Blood thirsty.

He had confirmed your thoughts regarding him without any prompting, and you wondered what else he might confide in you. You wondered why he did what he did…where he did it.

When?

How?

Why now?

Had he killed for his entire life or was this some midlife crisis he wanted to test out while he was still in good shape? Was he remorseful? Merciful? Did Max really not know? Did he have a tag line? Was he inspired by anyone?

Your mind spun like a washing machine; it all came back to the same question.

Who the fuck was Albert Shaw?

Of course, Albert had the exact same question for you.

Who was this little hellion that had unceremoniously nestled into his perfect little life? How long had it taken for him to build that basement into the perfect cell; to establish a routine that the watchful eyes of the neighbourhood would know; to make himself seem like a simple, unsuspecting man of Denver who is just a quiet, nice man? How long? Years. Fucking years. Then within a matter of months, this little wretch had come along and all but shattered it.

Albert had watched you when you dashed back to your house. Well, it was barely yours; you had broken up the aging family that had lived there for decades in a matter of weeks…he hadn’t known who had done it but he had to admit he was impressed when he saw your little head bobbing along up and down the path to move in. There was no way in hell that it had been a coincidence.

And he had been right.

Too right.

There were no such thing as coincidences when it came to you.

Albert had half hoped that when he followed you home that day and scared you half to death driving after you, that you might flee, and leave his routine alone. But when you had gone home after touching the hood of his van, and had locked your doors and muttered to yourself “Im gonna getcha I’m gonna getcha getcha…” over and over as you took your sleeping pill, and didn’t even notice him in the dark corner of your living room…he had decided he wanted to know more.

But then when he finally had you right there…he realized too quickly that he had mistakenly underestimated you.

And he had realized how much he enjoyed it.

He thought that by figuring you out and having you confess, he would somehow gain the upper hand and feel that fear he had of you dissipate…but then you had sat yourself right there in his lap like a present and pulled that blade out from god knows where…and he hadn’t felt so alive in a very, very long time. He had wanted you to stab him, hurt him…but you didn’t. He had wanted for you both to tip over the invisible edge and have one come out the winner, but it didn’t happen. You both remained firmly planted on the edge, teetering precariously.

If it was a game you wanted, it was a game he would give you.

It started small.

You knew he wouldn’t simply let you carry on living as if everything was peachy-keen, and sunshine and rainbows. At first, you thought he might do exactly that, especially when the following morning was horribly dull. So boring in fact that you found for self waiting extra long before pulling out from your driveway, and even stood in the back alley a little too long while taking out the trash…just in case he would pounce. Admittedly, you started to think very poorly of the man, wondering if he really was all that he was made out to be, or if he was all bark and no bite.

Then came the next morning. That bright, early dawn brought with it a very sour taste in your mouth in the form of four very flat tires on your little car. It didn’t take a mechanic or even anyone with brains to see that they each had very neat stab marks in them from a sharp kitchen knife. You slowly brought your gaze up to the house across the street, and while you didn’t see him, you felt him. You knew Albert was watching you. You knew he was gloating in that sick satisfaction of rendering you helpless. It was impressive how heavy his stare was- it sent goosebumps up and down your arms without you even seeing it.

Albert watched you kneel down to inspect the juvenile slashes on your tires that he has inflicted. While sloppy, there had been something liberating about jabbing a knife into something with no clean-up after.

Eyes trained on you, he watched you nod, as if you were showing him you understood that the game had begun.

You felt yourself unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek as excitement began to take you.

However, while you wished you could have run to the older man watching you, and picked up where you had left off before max has interrupted, you had a part to play. You cast your gaze from left to right, then found your target; one of your neighbours further down the road had just left his house, and you knew his wife was still asleep. The change in your demeanour was instant- so instant that Albert nearly choked on his coffee when he laughed. Distress riddled your features as you began looking around frantically, as if the culprit would return at any moment to do something else. To your credit, even you started to believe that you were scared of the older man across the street as you imagined him coming after you with a knife. You knew he was intimidating, but there was the undeniable simmer of warmth that came over you in his presence, even then as you inspected the damage- knowing that Al had stood there so close to your home with a knife and had taken the time to stab each tire…you almost felt flattered.

Almost.

But mostly you felt ravenous. Your teeth itched at the memory of how his tanned skin had felt in your jaws, and how pretty those marks looked on him. You wondered if he had liked it…you hoped he did. If he had, it would make this all the more fun, but if he was a prude then you whined at the thought of having to break him in like new shoes.

You had slipped into full hysteria now, and in your state, you managed to gain the attention of the family man you had spotted on his way to work. Johnathan you thought his name was…something like that. He was a little too dumb for your liking, but he was nice, and trusting, and those were two attributes you needed in your “saviour” in that moment.

“E-excuse me?”You called out to the man. He did a quick look around the nearly empty neighborhood. but once he spotted you and seemed to confirm with himself that you were indeed speaking to him, you had his undivided attention. In fact, he even started to come towards you, and you were fairly certain he didn’t even realise it.

You began to walk to him, wringing your hands. “I’m so sorry to bother you…you’re on your way to work aren’t you?” You began, pretending like you cared about anything.

“I am, but what’s 5 minutes? You don’t seem to be doing alright, miss…” he seemed nice. Gentle, and as you had anticipated…a little dim.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming over here…it just- gosh I’m sorry I’m so rattled…but it seems I’ve been the target of some late night mischief…do you think you could give me a lift to work, sir?”you begged, pushing your breasts together to help him make a choice.

Albert watched you practically throw yourself at that bumbling idiot from a few houses down. It was comical to him now- you had your little routine down so perfectly as you told the moron about how your tires were slashed. John was his name, Albert recalled seeing him babbling at the yearly neighbourhood block party in the summer- always looking for someone’s ear to bend…someone to validate him. Worked as an accountant. Dull and stupid as they come, just good with numbers.

He breathed out a humourless laugh- you certainly knew your way around the cocks of Denver, even if you didn’t know what they all looked like. And John was the perfect man for you right then- a hopeless man who would very well give you his house if you rubbed up against him.

Al’s mind wandered, Albert felt himself throb in his pyjama pants as he stood there, remembering how you had felt in his lap. How warm you had been, and the friction of your cunt against his jeans. Your blade pressed to his throat and eyes all wild. You had looked crazed, and by god Al had wanted to take a piece of you…just a piece. He wanted to dissect it and know what made it tick.

Hear it

Smell it

Feel it

Taste it-

A twinge of pain cut Al’s thought’s short, and made him look down at his hand. Sure enough, some of the busted skin of his knuckles had opened and begun to bleed as his clenched fists pulled the skin tight over his bones.

The older man’s eye twitched.

You had done this to him. This was entirely your doing- everything had been fine until you rolled into Denver; he wasn’t about to let you get off that easy. The moment Albert had decided to take that knife out to your car, and the moment you had nodded in understanding upon finding the damage, a silent competition had begun. Now, with that confirmation, and knowing that you were both locked in for whatever kind of ride this torment would be, he was elated.

There was a game to be played, and you were not about to slack on playing it. To start, however, you needed time to plan, and time to execute. Making people worry about you wasn’t in your play-book, but when used appropriately when you did indeed chose to employ it, it worked in your favour. It seemed that the best course of action would be to feign sickness, so that you could excuse yourself easily in the next week should you need to keep up with any of Albert’s challenges. You had been sure that when that man from down the street dropped you off, you put on your best weakened demeanour and dry cough, which you had perfected once you had arrived at the diner. When Anett had asked if you were alright, you of course waved her off and told her you were fine…but she had insisted that you just manage the counter and didn’t serve; patting you on the back.

It was nearly laughable how easy it was.

With your car out of commission for a few days, you took it upon yourself to do the responsible thing and call in sick the day following the incident. You were, after all, a good girl in everyone’s eyes; more concerned about the well-being of any diner-goers than yourself. Getting anyone sick was the last thing you wanted.

Well, at least that was what you had everyone believing.

With a day off on your hands, you decided that you would make the most out of having the metaphorical ball in your court. A million and a half ideas went through your head to get Al back for the damage he did to your car, but you had your heart settled on one that would likely make those pretty eyes of his twitch, and his strong jaw clench. Certainly it would do nothing to weaken his pocket, but it had high possibilities of making you howl with laughter. And what was so wrong with amusing yourself?

You patted yourself on the back for having listened to Albert when he had off-handedly mentioned where he worked weeks ago. After an off-handed comment you had made about how fit he was for sitting an awful lot at home…he had been quick to snap at you that he did physical labour all day and that you should watch your mouth. After that you took the liberty of enjoying his sturdy frame a little more with the mental image of him huffing and grunting with heavy loads.

The store front of Floro Hardware Store came into view as you rounded the corner of the street, and you did your best to hide your grin. Under your breath, you compulsively muttered the same sentence over and over like it was a promise. “I’m gonna getcha, I’m gonna getcha getcha…” as you fixed your skirt and shirt.

You had noticed Mr. Shaw had a particular liking for your dresses and skirts that had made their way into your closet since the warm weather started; you nearly giggled to yourself when you remembered how he had almost driven you and him off the road that day you had hopped into his van and bent over the seat to get a popsicle.

Poor old fuck.

The bell above the door rang and you let your eyes drop open like a doe; looking around hopelessly and helplessly in the hardware store. It became abundantly obvious that females were not a common sight in that particular establishment, and your presence stuck out like a sore thumb; by the turn of every head when you entered, everyone else was very much aware of that fact. You slowly walked up to the counter and pouted to yourself when Al wasn’t there immediately to greet you. In his place was a young man. It looked as if he had been slapped in the face by a ghost moments earlier as he stared at you, and you hid your scheming grin as best as you could.

Action.

“Excuse me, could you help me?” You asked sweetly. You placed your forearms on the counter and let your breasts push up - something this young man very much noticed.

It took him three seconds to look up from your cleavage, and a whole five seconds before he finally managed to speak.

“Y-yes. Yes I’m here for you- well not just um…for you- uh but I- I can help.” He stuttered out, ears turning red by the second.

Man…Albert was a poor old fuck for almost busting in his pants, but at least I would have gotten wet over it…this poor boy is about to explode in his pants and call his mom to pick him up and buy him an ice cream.

Ice cream….

You mentally punched yourself for not purchasing an ice cream before turning up to the shop to taunt Al. The look on his face would have been delectable.

“You’re so sweet…um, I need to get a car jack…do you sell those here?” You inquired, batting your eyes, and running your finger in a circle on the wood counter.

“W-we don’t have a lot…I’m uh- that’s more of a mechanic thing.” He said, scratching his neck.

“Oh?” You pouted, and looked embarrassed at your misunderstanding.

His eyes widened. “B-but we do have some! They’re just down here.” He clumsily made his way out from behind the counter and began walking deeper into the store. As soon as he passed you, you let your blush fade and you eyelids drop so as to give yourself a break for a moment. In true teenage fashion, the boy smelled like body odour and some sort of hair product that made you grimace.

“They’re just down there, um..do you know what you need?” He asked.

“I’m not too sure…you seem awfully smart though, think you could help little old me figure it out?” You touched his arm lightly and shrugged like a clueless bimbo.

He blushed and looked down at the jacks. , clearly not knowing what to say as his mind went blank. You grinned and put your hands on your hips as you thought. “I have a Ford Pinto…someone slashed the tires and I-“

“Emmet?”

You both froze. Emmet from the fact that his boss was calling him and you from the rush of excitement that struck you like lightning at the sound of said boss. Menace or not, Albert’s voice now meant ‘fun’ to you.

“I-I’ll be right there Mr. Shaw.” The young man stuttered, his face flushed and sweaty.

You stifled a giggle as you stared up at him, and covered your mouth when you heard the heavy footfalls of big, bad, boss man.

“What did I tell you about leaving the register like that? You know someone could just walk in a-“ Albert came to the aisle that held you and Emmet it in, and he came to a standstill. Ridged.

You both stared at one another, and you gleefully watched him fight to not take in your appearance. The skirt that barely came mid thigh and shirt that left little to the imagination. If you were honest you missed your more comfortable clothes…but you had a game to win and if giving up comfort meant just that, then so be it.

“Sorry, Mr. Shaw- I was j-just helping this lady-“

“That’s fine, back to the front…” Al nodded towards the front, signalling for the young employee to leave, “I’ll take care of this young woman.” He made little to no effort to hide his irritation.

Neither of you even watched Emmet scurry away, though you decided to add one more log to the fire, “Thank you for taking such good care of me Emmet!” You called after him, eyes locked on Al’s.

Now, as you were finally left alone with the older man, you smiled. “Fancy seeing you here, grandpa.” You teased him, “So…is he your demographic or do you like younger?”

The older man’s eye twitched and by god you wanted to kiss the skin that pulled ever so slightly at the tick. Or perhaps bite it.

“What the fuck do you want?” He growled as he took a few steps closer to you.

You hummed and looked down at the heavy jacks on the lower shelf. “Well you see, Mr. Shaw, I was a victim of a vehicular violation…and I take violations very seriously.” You cooed, bending over as if you were checking the prices. You knew you were offering Albert a very full view of your panties that were tight against your plump lower lips; practically begging to be kissed. You wondered what it would feel like to have his mouth against-

“You and I both know you had a damn tow truck take your car away this morning.” He rasped, taking another step into the aisle.

“Did I? I’m so forgetful.” You pretended to think.

You were about to straighten up when you felt a firm hand at the base of your neck pull you up. You almost gasped but another hand over your mouth swiftly dashed that possibility. Albert shoved you against the far wall at the end of the aisle, and you did your best to look afraid and confused instead portraying how excited you were. A fight in that store would be exhilarating.

“Look you little bitch…you’re going to listen to me.” His rough voice almost began to gain a strange, playful lilt to it, and you wondered if this was how he spoke to his victims, “Do not try to wedge yourself into my life like it’s something you deserve. What you deserve is to go find another town and fuck it up. Stay away from Denver.”

You watched him closely, and muttered out “Or what, Mr. Shaw?” Against his hand, which came out muffled but it seemed he was talented in understanding muffled voices.

“There is no “or what.” I’m tired of you here, and I have a certain amount of respect for…someone like you. So get out of here while I still have that.” He whispered.

Your eyes slowly hardened, and you truly couldn’t help yourself, not when he was being so condescending to you. No one told you what to do, and even though you wouldn’t mind Albert Shaw doing just that in a different setting, this was not that time. So while those thick finger still sat over your mouth, you sunk your teeth into two of them hard and bit down until he wrenched his hand away.

“God- fucking hell…you need a damn muzzle.” Albert hissed, and clenched his hand. You noticed again, that he only took a step away, and that his pants looked to be…uncomfortable.

“You alright there Mr. Shaw? You look a little riled up.” You mocked.

Albert held his hand in a tight fist, weighing it in his hand like he was debating having you eat it or not. Evidently, when he took another step to the end of the aisle and looked straight ahead to the front of the store, he chose not to attempt to send you to the hospital.

“Just get out. Don’t let me see you here again.” He muttered.

His choice disappointed you, but did not surprise you. You pouted, and walked towards him none the less. This was meant to be a game, and it certainly wasn’t over yet. As you passed him,you made sure to brush against his front and let a breathy moan escape you to see if it would send him over the edge. Make his cool demeanour shatter.

It didn’t.

And then, the ball was in Al’s court.

The stunt you pulled at his work resulted in both a pesky and almost titillating turn of events. Each morning, and nearly every night, you came to find that Albert was now enjoying the pleasure of moving various items in your home. Water glasses placed where your feet would sit the ground; toilet paper hidden, shampoo emptied; hair ties in your freezer, and panties gone- your least favourite, just to name a few. He even moved your medications and you noticed that he thoroughly enjoyed leaving cabinets open and moving furniture just an inch or so in the way so your would walk right into them; he must like how bruises looked on you.

It didn’t seem to matter how many locks you bought, or traps you set, Albert always managed to get inside, and mess with your safe haven. It became a constant reminder that you had thrown any hope of a haven out the window when you decided to try and seduce Al that night when he was battered. Not that you regretted it- it had been the most fun you’d had in years. You gathered the high it gave you was likely similar to the high of a line of cocaine.

To answer his little home invasions, you took it upon yourself to pick his lock and leave a pair of your panties square in the middle of his bed. Seeing as he was intent of touching all of your belongings, why not just give him one?

By a stroke of luck, while you followed him that same day to a local park, you came to find that you were, in fact, witnessing one of his stalking escapades. To add more fuel to the metaphorical fire, took it upon yourself to be a good bystander and inform the adolescents he was watching that the Grabber would get them if they weren’t careful. Of course they were sceptical at first, but with a quick “How can you be so sure?” And a nod to a conspicuous black van down the street, you watched as they hopped on their bikes and scrambled home. All you heard following that was the screech of tires as said black van peeled out of the neighbourhood. Interfering with each other’s hunting hadn’t been a part of the game yet, and you knew that by introducing the new rule it opened up a plethora of possibilities.

This stunt had earned you a particularly nasty retort by Albert.

Your evening had initially gone perfectly. With your car in the shop still, you had opportunity after opportunity to exploit your inconvenience. This particular night, you had desperately needed a ride home after work, and you counted your lucky stars when a familiar face had just so happened to be walking by where you had been standing. Not that he needed to know that you had walked three blocks to “bump” into him, or stalked his schedule for a week.

“Th-thanks again for driving me home…I owe you.” You said gently, grabbing a glass to fill with water for him.

Steven -you had learned his name was- had indeed been your knight in shining armour that night. He was leaned against the counter, smiling. “Oh it’s my pleasure…Not like we’re total strangers, right?” He replied.

Not strangers at all.

You laughed gently and shrugged as you passed the glass to him, “I suppose not…your sure your wife doesn’t mind? I’d hate to make you late for dinner.”

“Hm?” He looked down at you from taking a sip, “Oh Nancy and I are used to opposite schedules…she’s a night clerk so, uh…I’m all yours.” He tilted his head and winked at you so fast you almost didn’t see it.

You let a blush grace your cheeks and you fidgeted, falling into your routine. “You know…um…I- Sorry would you like to sit?” You stumbled over your words, and nodded to the couch. It seemed your suggestions elated Steven, and you had to admit you were too; the knife strapped to your thigh was making you itch with anticipation.

The spot you took on the couch was perhaps a touch too close as your knees brushed against one another, and his quick intake of breath was exactly what you wanted.

“Can I ask you something?” You muttered, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Yea, defiantly.” He replied as he moved a touch closer to settle in.

You sighed, and looked embarrassed.

“Why…why are you here with me? Right now?” You asked.

You’re here before I made sure you would be, but that’s besides the point.

For a moment, Steven looked confused, and you knew it was just as fake as your tale of needing a ride home, but of course you played along. This man knew exactly what you were saying, but he wasn’t about to let that on- he had a part to play too after all; an innocent husband who was simply trying to help a young woman out and certainly didn’t want to get his dick wet in her.

“Why am I-..? I gave you a lift, remember?…a-are you feeling alright?” He even went so far as to touch your knee with his hand.

You gave an audible gasp.

Steven’s eyes searched yours, and you bit the inside of your cheek as you bashfully looked up at him. His eyelids grew heavy, realizing just how close you were to one another.

“Yes, yes I’m fine…I-I don’t know…I’m…I’m just nervous I suppose.” You admitted, a shiver running down your spine, “Forget I asked, it was a stupid question…”

“Nervous about what? Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?” He cooed to you, and you felt your heart skip.

“No…it’s just-“

“Just?”

“I like you…have for a while…” you caved, and looked away, shrugging one shoulder.

He was so close, his lips almost brushing yours.

Steven let out a breathy laugh, “Have you now? Well I suppose that makes two of-“

Knock knock knock.

The jarring sound caused you both to jump apart from one another as your heads whipped towards the front door. A bolt of dread shot through you when you saw blinking red lights come through the window. Dread settled deep in your stomach at the thought of the authorities finally catching up with you.

You looked at Steven and he looked at you, eyes wide. You were almost certain he was about the jump out the window and run; most likely thinking Nancy had somehow found out about the two of you and had called the cops on you.

“One moment…” you said and stood, crossing the room to the door and opened it. You were greeted with a very burly man in a full fireman’s uniform and a firm expression on his face.

You swallowed.

“Good evening ma’am…we received a call regarding a strong smell of gas emitting from your home…everything alright here?” He asked, casting his eyes around the interior of your home. You blinked and shook your head.

“No- no nothing…I haven’t noticed a thing.” You said.

The fireman nodded, “Mind if we check any outlets and gas lines? Can’t be too careful.” He stated more than asked.

You knew that if you said no he would only push more, and you also knew that any hopes of roping Steven in tonight were dashed thanks to the scare, so you shook your head. “Not at all. Please, come in.”

He shuffled past you, and for the next ten minutes you waited as three firemen checked your home. Of course, your mind was already beginning to spin as you thought of how this might have happened.

On the couch, Steven sat awkwardly; part mortified at being caught in your home and partly because he had been attempting to calm the hard cock in his pants. The idea of hauling him into your bedroom and locking the door fleeted through your mind, though you decided against it…Steven was done, and scared off, at least for the night. If you wanted him to play your game you needed to start all over again, and you were too tired.

Tired, and angry.

In fact, you were fuming.

There was no use in pretending that you weren’t. You had been working on Steven for months ever since he looked at you longer than he should have that first when you got off the bus. If it werent for the very charming driver for the fire truck keeping you company, you would have been tapping your foot and carving a hole in the door frame.

“I’m sorry you have to wait like this ma’am, it’s a real cold night.” He said, looking around at the beiludet neighbours of yours that took up upon themselves to inspect what was going on.

You sighed

“I just don’t know who would have called it in…it makes no sense. I haven’t even been home all day so-“ you caught yourself mid sentence and felt your eye spasm.

No…

Your ears started ringing as realization dawned on you. Very slowly, you turned your head to gaze across the street, and when you saw Albert Shaw standing on his front step eating an apple, you thought your teeth might break from how tightly you clenched your jaw. He stared back at you with a grin that could only be described as evil.

“You alright ma’am?”

You could barely make out the voice of the fireman in front of you.

A wave of rage washed over you, when you saw the elder Shaw shoot you a wink to match his grin before disappearing back into his house. He knew he was untouchable so long as the firemen where there, and if you did come to him and pick a fight, he was beyond ready.

You looked back to the driver and smiled sweetly, “I live near a lot of elderly folks…you know how paranoid they can get. I’m sure it was an honest mistake.”

The man laughed lightly and nodded, “Tell me about it…pretty sure my nana wanted me to be a firefighter just so I could rescue her old cat every week and get paid for it.”

You laughed along, pretending like you didn’t want to stab the closest thing to you. Sadly it would have been him if you didn’t have your self control in check.

The man, evidently intent on distracting you, continued his onslaught of stories from work that made him laugh. As your anger began to subside, and the ringing in your ears turned into his voice, you began to notice how nice it was. He was sweet. Tall, tanned skin, dark hair that had a little silver to it and a sharp smile…and a pretty gold band on his finger too.

Your blood began to run hotter in your veins as you locked onto the yellow metal. You wondered if his marriage was happy…if he kissed his wife goodbye everyday or if they hadn’t spoken in a week. Were they friends or like roommates? Was he a father?

“-then my buddy had to catch the other side of the stretcher because I was about ready to pass out an-“

“What- um,” you mindlessly cut him off, finally looking up at him instead of at the house across the street. He seemed taken aback by your sudden ability to talk, “…gosh, I’m sorry…but what was your name, sir?” You asked, shyly. It seemed he found your faux coyness endearing.

He grinned. “Marc.” He replied, and held his hand out to you to shake, which you did just as the other men came out from your home.

The man in front heaved a sigh and gave a tight lipped smile.

“Welp, all clear here. Sorry to bother you ma’am.” He said as he guided the others back to the massive red truck.

You blushed as you stepped out of their way but bumped into Marc.

“Oh it’s miss.” You said, ducking your head down a little while they stopped to speak with you, “Thank you for being so thorough…I’m glad nothing was wrong.”

“Just doing our jobs, miss. Keeping you safe is number one on our priority list.” They nodded, and each of them cracked a smile at how embarrassed you seemed to be.

It never ceased to amaze you how much men latched onto a sky or feeble woman. It was easy to assume it wasn’t everyday they got a call that involved a pretty little thing all worried in a sundress and blushing for them. And of course it wasn’t everyday that you were surrounded by men twice your size, telling you they were there to protect you.

They left after another moment, but you didn’t miss how Marc cast you one last look before driving the massive vehicle away. He even waved a little, which you returned.

You grinned. Not a total loss to an evening…

“What a night…” came Steven’s voice behind you.

Your eyes had glazed over as you imagined Marc under you, telling you he loved you.

“Hm?” You hummed as you refocused , “Yes…I’m so sorry about all that…” you sighed, “Theres a lot of elderly families here and while I love them, I think they can be a little paranoid.”

Half true.

But saying that you have a homicidal magician living across from you who you’re in a battle of wits with simply didnt seem right.

Steven said something about needing to head home, but that he would call you. You knew you said something back- something he wanted to hear- but your eyes were glued to the house across the street. You knew Steven wouldn’t call you. You knew that you wouldn’t see him except for at that coffee shop; knew that he would be terrified of Nancy finding out about his continued infidelity that you knew he struggled with since that first day you saw him stumble out of the pub with his friend when you stepped off the greyhound downtown.

“I’m gonna getcha…” You chanted in your head.

And you fully intended on doing just that. Though you weren’t certain what you would do if you did get Albert…it didn’t bother you one bit. You wanted to get him, and whatever else that entailed.

Knock knock knock

Your knuckles rapped against the front door of 7740 Irving St. And you stepped forward enough to crowd whoever opened the door. Only a few moments passed before you heard Max muttering “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.” over the sound of Samson barking. You put on your best smile when the door opened and waved brightly.

“Morning Max! Could I bother you for a minute?” You chirped.

Max looked…unkept. You wondered how long ago he had woken up, and gathered it had to have been no longer than half an hour ago. He stared down at you for a moment, his unlit cigarette hanging there on his lip, “Sure thing. Come on in.” He said, standing aside and waving his arm dramatically like he was a half-dead showman.

For a man so paranoid of the world around him you were surprised by his lack of any guard…or if he had it he hid it well.

Once you came to stand in the living-room, you clasped your hands together and looked down , even wringing your wrists.

“This is going to sound so strange but…I was wondering if I could steal one of Al’s shirts?” You asked bashfully.Max’s eyes went wide and he stared at you confused. This request must have been odd enough for him to sober up a little.

You sighed and pretended to come clean, even avoiding his gaze to sell it.

“I-I know it must sound weird but Al was wearing this one the other day and it was just so cool and I’m pretty sure it was vintage…he said I could borrow it sometime and I totally forgot to pop in earlier…I don’t think he would mind though if I just grabbed it. Is that alright?” You pushed, laying in every ounce of charm you could to get your way. You knew it was odd and that if Max was in his right mind he would ask more questions, but you hoped you caught him before he was able to sober up too much.

A moment or two passed. You were about ready to push harder, but it seemed you didn’t need to.

“Y-yeah, I think that would be okay.” He said, nodding with his hands on his hips like he was capable of making a judgement call.

As if he had a choice.

A bright smile adorned your face.“You’re the best! I owe you.” You said, already walking into the house towards Al’s bedroom. It seemed Max didn’t question how you knew where his older brothers room was, and you were thankful for it. Not that questions would stop you, but they were tedious to deal with.

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you shut the door behind you and took a deep breath- inhaling the smell of Albert Shaw. For a moment, your head spun; you wondered about everything that had happened in that room alone. You wondered how he looked laying in his bed; sleeping, reading; cock in hand, cumming over a magazine….

But you didn’t have time for that.

You walked to his dresser, and pulled open drawers until you found his shirts. It didn’t take long for you to find one you liked, but you took your time nonetheless to ensure you did this right. You knew he was in your house often enough, and you felt it was only fair to enjoy being in his space; ensure that he was aware of your close presence.

It seemed that a burnt orange button up became your favourite, and you laid it on the bed to inspect your decision- touching the buttons fondly. Everything smelled like him. Of course it did, and it started to make your head dizzy.

“Any luck?”

You were snapped out of your daze when Max’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Yep! I’ll be out in just a second.” You called back with an eerily cheerful voice that how emotionless your face was.

Anticipation filled you for what was to come. You knew shoving Al’s privacy if his face would rattle him, but by god you hoped he snapped. Before long, you were replacing your own shirt with the button up, and tucking it into your skirt and putting your blouse in his drawer.

You jumped with excitement for a moment, then quickly walked to the door and moved through to the living room where Max flipped threw the TV channels. “I owe you Max!” You called. He said something back, but you didn’t hear it as you ran out; intent on getting to a certain hardware store that now counted you as a regular customer.

You are practically bouncing by the time you opened the door, and truly couldn’t hide the vicious smile you dawned when you saw that Al was right there at the counter, engrossed in an inventory sheet. The bell rang, and you saw his customer service face automatically take over his handsome features.

“Good mor-“ he started, but his greeting cut off as soon as he saw you; his eyes narrowed and he sucked on his teeth as he took in the very familiar shirt, “What the fuck are you wearing?”

You shrugged and sauntered up to him without a care, “I wear skirts all the time, you know that Mr. Shaw.”

The crows feel beside his eyes were as prominent as the crevice between his brows as he glowered at you.

“You know I’m not talking about that little skirt, kiddo. Stop breaking into my damn house.” He rasped, putting his clipboard down and crossing his arms; you tried and failed to not enjoy how the tendons and muscles stretched under his skin as he did so. You wondered just how strong he was… if that had been his full strength the other night or if he was holding back.

You pouted like you knew he hated, and leaned up onto the counter, knowing very well that you had left enough buttons undone for him to see that you were wearing a lacy black bra that barely contained your breasts. “You didn’t like my panties last week?”

Albert’s eye twitched.

As did his cock.

Of course he had hated the panties. He hated how he imagined how they would sit against your cunt, stretched over your lips, trying to soak up your slick but failing as it dripped down your soft thighs. He hated how he had to sit in his bed with his legs spread wide as he wrapped them around his hand and pumped his thick cock until he came all over his fingers. He hated how once hadn’t been enough.

“No.” Al stated, barely moving an inch. It was only when the bell above the door chimed that he dropped the scowl and put a smile on his face, “Morning!” He called to the customer, his voice going up in a lilt that made a shiver run down your spine.

Your ears began to heat up, and your panties suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Once the man disappeared down one of the aisles, Albert turned back to you and it was too little too late for you to recover from the unpleasantly pleasant feeling forming between your legs. It seemed that Al noticed just as soon as you did when your cheeks coloured pink, and you suddenly stopped holding his stare just for a moment.

Albert leaned over the counter to you, but regardless of your situation, you didn’t move. Even as you stared at a chip in the worden counter and squeezed your thighs together.

“Something bothering you there, kiddo?” He cooed to you in that same, high voice that made you feel so small.

To save yourself from humiliation, you fixed your face, stared him in the eyes and smiled. “Nothing at all, Mr. Shaw, just enjoying the nice smell of this shirt I’m wearing.” You tilted your head to the collar, and took a deep breath.

Albert’s eyes widened. It seemed he hadn’t expected that.

“Get out of here. And wash my shirt before you return it.” He snapped, placing his palms down on the counter, rings making a ding against the wood.

But you just smiled wider. “Oh I’ll have to…I know, between you and me.” You leaned forward into his space until you were just a breath away, “I think I’ll have to take this to the dry cleaners…don’t think my poor washing machine will be able to handle the mess I’m going to make wearing this later in bed.”

You felt your stomach grow warm when his ears began to go red. Your eyes flicked between his, daring him to scream at you, pull you over the counter or haul you into the back and do unspeakable things to you…anything.

But Albert had what you lacked.

Control. Great…deep control.

“Get out.” He whispered; words turning to air against your own lips.

“Always a pleasure Mr. Shaw.” You chirped.

You were gone and out the door before he could even catch one more glimpse down your…his shirt.

Albert rubbed his eyes. “God dammit…”

The starched collar of your uniform made you itch for a moment- for some reason you just couldn’t get comfortable that day. It was easy to tell anyone who asked if you were alright that you just weren’t feeling your best, but there was no tricking yourself; you were bothered. It had been two days since you taunted Al at his work, in his shirt, and you could still hear his voice in your head. It didn’t seem to matter how many times you had slipped your hand between your thighs…you were always left wanting-

“Sugar could you be an angel and take the trash round back? We’re making a record today I swear.” Anett called to you as you wiped down an empty table.

You gagged in your mind, but nodded and smiled, “Sure thing.”

The smell of grease permeated the air as you walked back through the kitchen from the front; sure enough there were two large trash bags sitting waiting for you. Judging by the smell, you didn’t want to know what was in them, though you knew you had certainly cleaned up far worse messes than those. Something about blood made it so much easier to clean than old diner food though…it seemed so tranquil and simple. No smell, no worries. Just water and bleach.

With a deep breath away from the bags, you used your hip to open the back door, and grasped both bags; they weighed a tonne, and would have been easier to carry one at a time but, you weren’t about to be back there any longer than you needed. You hauled one into the bin, and grabbed the neck of the other-

“Need a hand there kid?”

The kid of the garbage bin slipped from your hand and landed with a resounding bang. Your hairs stood on end.

What was that old saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear?

Hell, Albert must have been right up there with old Satan because you didn’t even have to say his name for him to sneak up on you.

Of course, the last thing you wanted to do was to let on just how startled you were by his sudden presence, nor how a heat shot directly down to your navel at the sound of that strange lilt- it wasn’t like his ego needed more of a boost.

“The entrance is around the other side, sir.” You said, lifting the lid again without turning around.

You heard him breathe out a laugh, and the shuffle of his feet as he took a step- presumably towards you.

“I think the entrance I’m looking for is right here, sweetheart.” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes and held the lid open, giving theatrical wave as you turned around, “Climb right in.”

Albert tucked his keys into his pocket as he watched you deposite the other bag. It made him laugh to himself at the image of you in such a domestic position such as throwing out a bag of trash; he had watched you drag dark garbage bags around countless times, but with far more incriminating excrement than what you dealt with right at that moment. You looked so human to him that he almost thought he made up the depraved things you got up to in your spare time.

Almost.

If he hadn’t committed said crimes to his memory, and the mental image of you with it he might have…but he had yet to get the vision of you covered in blood from his mind. So rabid.

“You really do have quite the mouth on you…you know that, Princess?” The older man chided, watching you closely as you seemed to make no move to escape him.

“Yours ain’t that wonderful either, Mister.” You replied, hands coming to your hips.

Albert’s eye spasmed, but his firm grin didn’t falter, in fact if anything his teeth shone through a little more. If your bite hadn’t been as hard as his you might have cowered away from such a predator.

The two of you stood there for a long ten seconds.

Nether of you moving an inch, neither of you looking away.

Locked.

It wasn’t until a door shut somewhere down the alley that Al cast a slow look around. It seemed that what me saw satisfied him enough to take a step forward, and let his hands drop to his sides. The hairs on your body began to stand on end as goosebumps sprung up. Albert was smiling. And not just any smile; it was comfortable, and while that might not have put you on edge, his arms so comfortably limp at his hips made you watch him a little closely. There was something sinister to seeing anyone so at ease.

“Is there anything you don’t have a response to, kid?” He sucked on his teeth bitterly, “You just never know when to quit or when you’re out-done.” Al spoke so casually, you almost forgot what he could likely do to you with no one knowing.

He took another step, slow enough for you to almost not notice.

Almost.

You shrugged and slammed the bin closed, “A girl’s gotta be prepared, Mr. Shaw. There’s an oughta lot of creeps out there.”

Another step.

“I’ve heard. You’d better be careful who you trust…you might get yourself in a sticky situation.” Albert’s gaze began to burn into you. Certainly you could hold your own against him but there was something so deliberate about that stare of his that afternoon. So precise.

“I’m a big girl. Think I can handle any of those creeps that think they can take me…they’re stupid if they think so.” You replied as unbothered as possible.

Another step.

You had forgotten how tall he was.

Truly how much bigger he was than you.

You refused to believe he was stronger though.

You so badly wanted to stand your ground. Every bit of your stubborn mind told you to not move, let him get in your space but don’t move. Then, the closer he got, you truly couldn’t help but take a small step back.

Tiny.

Minuscule.

Barely a breath of a step. But it was enough. Enough to let Albert know that he had you.

You bit your inner lip at your weakness- you might as well have offered your neck for him to bite into.

“See…I think you’re a whole hell of a lot more scared than you let on, kiddo.” He said, continuing his slow stalk towards you, and you in turn gave in to your retreat.

“Oh? Of what?” You chirped with a childish grin as you held onto the fight you had left in you. As if he would know…

Albert shrugged comically, and shook is finger at you.

“I don’t know yet…but something tells me you have a need for attachment, don’t you?” His smile stretched.

A sharp pain stabbed your heart. Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but just like your small step back had been, it was enough. A simple, small tell. A crack in your perfect façade.

“Ah…makes sense.” He mused, “All those men who you so desperately want to love you…but none of them live up to what you want do they?” He hummed in that singsong voice that made your nipples harden.

You knew he had watched you on those nights you played with your prey, but you didn’t know he heard you. “Tell me you love me…” it was the same thing every time…they never said it. Or they never meant it.

You smiled like you weren’t shaken by the idea of him knowing, and shrugged in hopes that the terror building inside of you wouldn’t show. “Well if that’s what I’m needing then what’s your deal, old man? Daddy a little too mean to you so you’re beating the shit out of little boys to try and understand why you were treated so badly?”

Albert stopped.

You smiled wider. “Oh that’s it isn’t it? You’re just a sad old fu-“

Albert’s large, veiny hand was wrapped around your throat and lifting you up against the wall he smashed you into before you could finish your taunt. In your need to save face, you missed how close he had gotten to you. Your head hit the cold cement of the side of the building with a hard thud that made your mind spin in a dizzy circle.

“Someone’s going to have to teach you some fucking manners one of these days and you’re not going to like it.” He seethed, breathing your air like it belonged to him.

“If it’s you doing it then I might like it a little.” You chirped as if your vision wasn’t going starry.

He laughed in your face.

“Yea? I bet you’d enjoy it until my belt started to paint a pretty, red marks on your back.” Albert’s brows came down heavy over his eyes.

“Tell me more.” You ground out. In a last ditch effort, you used his ego to your advantage and waited until he thought you’d pass out before bringing your knee up into his ribs.

Albert gasped out for a moment, lending you enough time to sink your teeth into the meat of his hand, and knocking his ear. The subsequent ringing in his head disoriented him for a moment, and you were about to push him over into the dirt before returning to work when adrenaline gripped him; Albert let out a sound you could only call a growl, then before you knew it, your back was against the wall again, but this time his hand wasn’t the only thing holding you off the ground. His thick thigh nestled between your legs and kept you perched there whether you liked it or not. The grip he had on you now was not just to keep you there, it was to prove a point; that he was faster, bigger and better than you. Certainly you were younger and very fast and equally strong, but there comes a certain extra advantage to being older. The ability to anticipate is something that can only come with age, and you had yet to get to his level.

Poor thing.

“Princess, you’re fucking impossible, you know that?” He half laughed, half rasped out as he pressed you against the concrete with his chest, barely leaving room for you to breathe. “My van is just down the end of this alley, I could take you right now and no one would care would they?”

You bit your lip- refusing to give him any satisfaction. You tasted blood from how hard you bit down.

“They wouldn’t even fucking notice, huh? You think you’re so damn important and loved, don’t you? Tell me.” Albert ran his nose along your cheek, Au hung in a breath by your ear.

“Answer me!”He lifted you up a little more on his thigh, and your feet were completely off the ground. You felt like some little doll of his. But then he knocked you on his muscle to get a better grip on you, and the friction rubbed your clit perfectly. You couldn’t help it: you gasped.

Albert froze, and those hard blue eyes of his trained so intently on yours that you thought he might see through you.

Then a look passed over his face that made your stomach flip. It was like a dare. He did the same movement as if to test you, or to confirm with himself that you had indeed reacted in such a way. And just like before, you truly were betrayed by your body when your hips rocked against him.

Your eyes began to sting as your vicious walls began to crumple under his touch. Sure you had been intimate before with men, but there was something about the cruel nature of his that matched yours; your veins were ablaze with scorching blood.

“You…” he was at a loss for words.

She…wants this?

As the thought filtered through his head, something crossed his mind. Albert took his free hand that wasn’t around your throat and pinned your hip to the wall, taking away any ability you had to move. A soft whine emitted from you and you feebly tried to fight against him as if you still believed you wouldn’t give anything in the world to come right there on his thigh.

“P-please.” You whimpered before you could stop yourself. You wanted to thibg it was a plea for him to stop and let you go, but you both knew it was a beg for more. For closure. A deep, carnal need.

Albert huffed out a puff of air that fanned across your face and you stared up at him- dazed as your arousal clouded your head. All you needed in that moment was the friction to return.

Albert guided your hips this time, dragging you against his jeans and you cried out- much to his pleasure. Your sensitivity was beyond anything the older man had seen with his own eyes; you felt as if you were a new toy he was trying to figure out. He, in turn, watched as your dress bunched up around your hips and the dark mark you were making.

“Jesus, kiddo…you wearing any panties?” He asked incredulously.

You nodded desperately.

“Yea? Those little black ones I wanted to rip off you? Bet you would have liked that huh? Wouldn’t even learn your lesson…you’d just do the same over all over again, hm?” Albert tightened his grip on your throat as he continued to move your soaked pussy against his thigh. You could feel the tip of his hardening cock each time you rocked against him, and your mind began to short circuit at the thought of having it inside you. How he would stretch you, and force you to fit his length inside you. How warm his cum would be as he filled you…

In your daze, you forgot to answer him, and he tightened his hand even more, “Answer me.” He growled, grinding against you erratically.

But you could only moan out as the air was blocked from your windpipe.

Someone could so easily walk past you both, but it seemed you collectively did not care. If anything it spurred you on- the idea of someone seeing you being taken advantage of made you clench down around nothing and you were keenly aware of how empty you were.

“You’re a disgusting little thing…” he chided. You knew he was starting to lose it just as much as you- his words were breathier, and his mouth was practically on yours as he spoke.

Then, as if you both couldn’t help it anymore, your lips collided in a painfully messy kiss. Your teeth hurt as they clanked against his and your tongue was abused by his, but you cried out a desperate moan as you humped shamelessly at his well muscled thigh. Your clit almost hurt from how stimulated it was.

To your dismay, his hand left your throat, but then you felt both come to your hips, bringing you to his groin as he rutted his cock against you. You gasped out into his mouth when you felt it firmly press into your flesh; you could only imagine how thick it was, and how painful taking the tip would be…

His bit at your lip, and sucked on your tongue. Your mind started to go blank as your orgasm built, and apparently your mounting whines and moans and pleas were enough for Albert to understand. “That’s it, come on…atta girl, come on you can do it…you’re gonna come right here on my fucking thigh…” he rasped against your lips, “You hear me?”

You nodded, and began to babble incoherently. “P-please I cant- I’m gonna…god- please d- don’t let me go, I’ll come -d-daddy!” You didn’t mean for that to slip out, but you couldn’t care. Evidently it was enough to send Albert over the edge of his own orgasm.

He groaned against your mouth.

“Fucking- god you’re a little whore…my little fucking whore…I won’t let you go- fu- I got yo-you.” He ground out as his hot sticky cum coated the inside of his pants. You nodded helplessly, and let go as he continued to use you to ride out his high. You released one of his shoulders to cover your mouth, but he ripped it away and sealed his lips over yours as you came. Your hips twitched and you felt your cum soak into his pants, likely leaving a stain. Your thighs were sticky, and you swore your dress would be ruined.

Your heart beat erratically in your chest, and pulsed in your ears. For one long minute, you couldn’t think and could hardly register that your lips were still moving against his. You could taste blood, and something sweet that made you never want to part from him. Then, very slowly, you both pulled apart- a cold string of saliva connecting your lips.

Your eyes lazily locked onto his, and under his blissful gaze, you felt like the only thing in the world to him.

Your eyes stung, and words ached on your tongue that you couldn’t say.

He sighed, and pushed your hair out of your face.

“Let that be a lesson to not test your neighbours, princess…there’s some creeps out there.” He murmbered against you, then his thigh was gone from between your legs.

“W-what?” Your heart sunk down to your ankles as you watched him right himself, and pat your cheek.

“Do me a favour,” he said, already turning to leave, “Leave a window open tonight…I’m an old man and I’d rather have an easy entrance.” He called over his shoulder.

You felt scorched and frozen as he walked away as if he didn’t have two large stains on his jeans. Your head spun almost painfully while you tried to grasp what had just happened.

“What the fuck…” you whispered shakily to yourself.

“Y/n? Y/n!”

You spun around to the sound of your name, and righted yourself just in time before Anett poked her head out from the back door, her brows pinched in worry, “You alright there, sugar?” she asked, looking around.

In your peripheral was a black van pulling away, and a very devious older man casting one last look your way; as soon as your vision cleared of the vehicle, you smiled easily and waved your hand like you had a juice story Anett just wouldn’t believe, “Oh yea, a delivery guy needed help, and asked if I’d give him a hand. Dumbass tried to feel me up so I gave him a pretty crooked nose.” You answered as steadily as you could as if your clit wasn’t still pulsing and your cum wasn’t sticking your thighs together.

Evidently it was sufficient enough of an answer for your manager, who rolled her eyes and nodded as if she knew exactly what you were talking about. As she began to go on about men and how unsafe the world was, your eyes glazed over; your mind was reeling at a mile a minute as it tried to process exactly what had happened in the alley between you and Albert. Certainly it was not the first time you had engaged in something akin to that, but what you hadn’t anticipated was…him. Albert Shaw. He was some kind of unpredictable piece of shrapnel that was wedged between your ribs; you could feel him with every breath even as you strode back onto the tile floor of the diner.

The feeling of his hands was embedded into your skin like a brand, and you couldn’t help but discreetly touch where his skin had met yours. How he had unabashedly ridden out his desire for you like you owed him. Albert didn’t hold back like the others did…and there was little for you to do but play every move over and over repeatedly in your mind. He had wanted you. Craved you. You flushed red and your breath caught in your throat when you thought that he might need you.

A question began to circulate in your head.

Do I need him?

You had never needed anyone before, and you truly didn’t know how to rationalize it.

Most of all you thought of how the world had seemed to simply melt away as soon as he had pressed you against that concrete wall; there had just been Al, and his thigh between your legs, warm breath on your cheeks, and his words in your ears…

Do I need him?

Yes. Yes I do.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dogmatic255 @ethanhoewke @honeycovered-bandaids @dancingisdangerouss @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @theroadreader2 @lxdyred @eth1calcannibal @ebiemidnightlibrarian @katehawke e @blep-bloop @ratpackash @al-shaw @darkvoidz @belladonnaaura @pecter-specter @samhainrain @turtle-boris

#ethan hawke #the grabber #albert shaw #the grabber x reader #the black phone #slasher x reader #the blackphone fanfic #ethan hawke fanfic #albert shaw x reader

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zablife · 7 months

Text

Careless People

Summary: Newlyweds Tom and Daisy Shelby are hiding a dark secret. They're known for being eccentric and a bit kinky, but could something more sinister be lurking beneath the surface?

Author's Note: Requested by @cillmequick for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. You asked what Tommy thought of everyone's speculation about his bride, but what if he’s aware of her sordid past and willing to indulge her? In this one, he and his wife are the ones driving others out of Arrow House!

Warnings: 🔞 smut, dub-con, blood, mention of weapons, murder. Dark fic proceed with caution 💀

Fear gnawed at your insides as you stood ready to serve your new employers, a pair of newlyweds just back from their honeymoon in Paris. The dashing Mr. and Mrs. Shelby sat before you at the dinner table speaking in hushed voices, brows knit in serious conversation. Their conspiratorial tone and occasional glances in your direction unnerved you to the point of paranoia.

“What’s she saying? Am I dismissed already?” you whispered to one of the other servants waiting table.

The girl only shook her head quickly, lips pursed together tightly and eyes cast toward the floorboards anticipating an incoming storm.

As if on cue, Mr. Shelby’s temper suddenly flared and he grasped his wife’s forearm hard enough to cause her to whimper in pain. “Enough, Daisy!” he barked into the silence of the room and you looked away feeling sorry for the young woman.

The other servants had warned you he could be temperamental, but you hadn’t expected him to be violent as well. Pushing away from the table, he stalked to the other side of the room for more whisky as Mrs. Shelby rubbed at her aching wrist.

She muttered a low complaint into her napkin that sounded something like, “You’re a brute.”

Their new marriage still seemed to be finding solid footing now that the honeymoon was over and the demands of life were creeping in around them. It was rumored that the Shelby family did not approve of Mr. Shelby’s American bride, though you couldn’t imagine why. Thus far she was a fair and honest employer, you’d even heard of an initiative she began which stated one deserving employee would be chosen each season to make their way to America, all expenses paid by the Shelby family. She said she wanted hard workers to have the opportunity to seek their fortune abroad.

You found yourself drifting away from the unpleasantness and into this enticing daydream as Mr. Shelby cleared his throat to speak. “Elsa, show Y/n to my office after dinner,” he commanded. You swallowed harshly wondering if this might indeed be your last night at Arrow House, but then something took you by surprise. Mrs. Shelby looked at you directly, a smile darting across her lips and a gleam in her dark, amber eyes. There was something in her charm that captivated you, pulling a smile from you before you realized. Your heart began beating wildly at the thought of winning her favor and you could think of nothing else while clearing the dinner plates.

---------------

“Down and to the left,” Elsa said before leaving you alone in the corridor. The haunting strains of a gramophone could be heard in the distance and you paced toward it, still uncertain what awaited you. Just as you reached the partially opened door, a harsh sound of a slap stopped you. Your ears strained for more over the music and soon a few raspy breaths could be heard through sobs. With curiosity piqued, your hand rested over the doorknob and you peered inside to see the upstairs’ maid, Alice, kneeling before Mr. Shelby.

The only light in the room came from a roaring fire. The orange flames cast flickering shadows upon the couple before you making it hard to see everything happening. However, you had an idea as you watched Mr. Shelby’s large hand grasp the back of Alice’s head and push her down between his legs harshly until she began to sputter. Her small hands clawed at his trousers as he sipped his whisky, the light playing across his face in an ever-changing, yet sinister mask.

“Choke for me, darling,” he rasped before groaning in pleasure on a harsh gag. He gave her a moment to rest, stroking her hair gently before resuming his thrusts, dragging her along his length in frenzy until he eventually stilled. His hands tensed with her locks caught tightly in his fist, eyes rolling back in his head as a string of curses fell from his lips. Then removing his hand slowly, Alice pulled away, tears streaming down her cheeks in dark rivulets from her ruined mascara.

Still breathing heavily, Tommy leaned down to her, taking her dripping chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Open,” he commanded and she obeyed wide eyed, holding something rich and pearlescent in her mouth that caught the light. He ran his thumb along her lower lip with a nod of satisfaction. “Swallow like a good girl,” he said with the raise of an eyebrow and she did so as she looked up at him, a dazed look on her face.

Your breath caught as you realized you’d witnessed something you shouldn’t have. Before you had time to consider the damage to Mrs. Shelby, you watched her elegant form emerge from the darkness. You clasped a hand over your mouth as you saw her help Alice stand on wobbly legs and capture the girl’s face between gloved hands before savoring her in a languid, open mouthed kiss.

Feeling as though you’d already seen too much, you turned to leave, but the creak of the old wooden door gave you away. You should have run in that moment, but for some reason you froze, entranced by what you’d just seen.

“Miss Y/l/n, come in,” Mrs. Shelby said warmly, extending a hand to you from where she stood. She smiled so brightly it was as though you were the only person in the room and you felt a sudden giddy nervousness take hold of you. Mr. Shelby straightened his appearance and gave a quick nod to signal it was his wish for you to enter, but you stood firm until Alice made a hasty retreat. She didn’t look at you as she passed, cheeks flushed a bright red even in the dim lighting.

“Sit down, Y/n. We have a proposition for you,” Mr. Shelby began, taking a seat behind his desk and producing a formal looking document.

“We do hope you’ll accept,” Mrs. Shelby added breathlessly as she guided you to sit beside her on the sofa.

—————————

“Are you sacked?” Elsa asked the next morning as you helped prepare Mrs. Shelby’s breakfast tray.

“No!” you said indignantly. “Would I still be making tea right now if I was?” you joked.

“Well? What did Mr. Shelby say?” she prodded.

You bit your lip. It was part of your signed contract not to disclose the nature of your exact arrangement with the Shelbys. However, the best part was so exciting you couldn’t possibly keep it to yourself. “They’re going to send me to America!” you said enthusiastically. “But I had to sign a contract for a…special program first.”

"Jammy git!” Elsa exclaimed. “Alice has been here three years so I knew she’d get picked, but look at you! You’ve only just arrived and already made an impression,” she mused.

“I know!” you thrilled, wanting to squeal with delight as you hoisted the breakfast tray up, but you were secretly worried about the months that lay ahead. Could you do what they had asked?

——————————-

One month later Alice was set to depart. You helped pack her things and she gave you all the advice she had for serving the Shelbys. However, something in her voice was off as you tied her apron for one last dinner service. “You feeling alright?” you asked.

“I don’t know,” she confided, looking around her empty room with a desperate melancholy. “Working for the Shelbys is like being consumed by fire,” she confided, swallowing harshly, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “But I like it. It scares me how much of myself I’d give them if they asked,” she exhaled on a shaky breath. She seemed afraid, but you weren’t sure precisely why.

The bell rang in the hall calling for everyone in the dining room. “I’m sure you’re just exhausted from all the preparations. You’ve been working long days, but soon you’ll be rewarded,” you said in an attempt to cheer her. “Just as I hope I’ll be rewarded one day,” you said gleefully.

Alice’s face fell as she looked upon you and you noticed how gaunt she’d become. You didn’t pay much attention at first as hard work did that to people. Your own parents had worked themselves to death with little to show for it, but you were determined to build something greater for yourself and you wanted to remind Alice of her own bright future.

Giving her a reassuring smile, you reached for her hand in solidarity, but she twisted away from you. It was then you noticed what looked to be rope burns on her wrist, red and irritated under the cuffs of her blouse. She yanked the sleeve of her uniform down further as you blinked, certain you were seeing things. “I’ll see you downstairs,” you mumbled as you backed away feeling disconcerted.

—————————

Thankfully dinner was uneventful and you soon forgot Alice. Mr. and Mrs. Shelby were in good spirits as they ate their lamb chops, chatting idly about a new business acquisition in Boston which would require his sister Ada to go abroad soon. Mrs. Shelby remarked about the shopping in the area and Mr. Shelby feigned a passing interest. However, one item caught your attention and that was a brief exchange about the upcoming stag hunt with his brothers. “Are you leaving in the morning, Tom?” Daisy asked offhandedly.

“No, we’ll have to wait for John. He arrives Saturday,” Mr. Shelby replied. Then he instructed the butler to have his guns cleaned.

After you’d finished your duties for the evening, you retired to your room, settling beneath the old tattered quilt you’d brought with you upon your arrival. Sleep came within minutes, a strange, but not unwelcome dream of Mrs. Shelby came to you, her face hovering over yours as her large brown eyes softened to the texture of velvet so soft you thought you could stroke it with your fingertips. Her dazzling smile beckoned you to reach for her and hold her in your arms before she leaned down to leave a love bite on your neck.

Soon after midnight, when the house was still and quiet, a sudden sharp sound broke your revery. You couldn’t be sure in your hazy state of mind, but you could have sworn you’d heard a gunshot. Shaking your head in disbelief, you burrowed beneath the covers trying to dissuade yourself of the notion.

However, in the morning everything felt upside down as the house was in a whirlwind of activity. Men stomped through the house and Frances bustled behind them, but no one else was allowed upstairs. When you inquired about your regular duties, you were assigned elsewhere with the explanation that Mr. Shelby was on his hunt and Mrs. Shelby was out shopping.

“That’s odd,” you commented as you began washing the floors with Elsa. You were certain Mr. Shelby said his hunt had been delayed, but it was none of your business so you continued working until Elsa scurried over to you.

“Y/n, Alice is missing,” she whispered urgently.

“Perhaps she left early,” you reasoned, but Elsa shook her head violently in disagreement. “Do you reckon she took another boat?” you asked in confusion.

“I don’t think so. She wasn’t meant to sail for two days and I saw someone take her trunk away before first light,” she said, twisting her fingers in her apron nervously. Glancing down the hall she made sure no one was coming before she added. “They’ve done something with her, I know it.”

“That’s not possible. Mr. and Mrs. Shelby have been nothing but kind and helpful,” you noted, wanting to believe all the lovely things you’d heard about the Shelbys. “I’m sure she’s on a boat. Let’s wait for her letter. She did promise to write,” you reminded Elsa. Although she agreed waiting was best, she didn’t seem to believe you, her brow etched with worry.

In a month, you were vindicated when a letter arrived from Boston. It was type written which seemed odd considering you’d never seen Alice use a type writer. However, it was signed by her and talked of nothing but happiness in her new home. Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief that her sudden departure from Arrow House was nothing more than eagerness to begin her journey and she was quickly forgotten as work overtook everyone.

You were no different, learning what your new role would be. Aside from Frances, you had quickly become the second most important person in the household. If you were honest, the power of being held in such high regard by your employers was thrilling, but also burdensome when it came to dealing with other members of staff. The jealousy in Elsa’s eyes was unmistakable as she found it particularly difficult to hide her envy.

One day she confronted you about it, as you assumed she might, but you were not prepared for her venomous words. “You're so special all of a sudden?” Elsa seethed, pulling you from the corridor by your elbow.

“I-I'm not. I’m just another servant,” you demurred, feeling hurt and shocked by her outburst.

“Like hell. I know what you do with Mr. and Mrs. Shelby when you’re alone,” she revealed.

“I’m not sure what you think you know…” you began, but Elsa cut you off.

“You’re their whore. You let them use you in the most vile ways,” she accused, face contorted in an expression of utter disgust.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said indignantly.

“Think you’re so clever? We can all hear you,” she informed you. “They’re careless people, Y/n. Careless and cruel,” she said bitterly.

You sucked in a breath. “That’s not true,” you defended the couple you’d grown attached to. Wanting to know if others felt the same, you ventured, “Does everyone think that?”

“That’s not what you should be asking. You should be worried for your safety, Y/n. Ask why they wanted your signature or why they bought you that trunk to ship your belongings months before you leave. Have you thought about that?” she urged you, eyes boring into you insistently.

“What? What are you saying, Elsa?” you wondered aloud.

“The stable boy found Alice’s belongings in the barn last week and I've seen copies of her letter in Mr. Shelby's office. It’s what I thought all along, the Shelbys forged that letter from America. And that trunk? I think her body was in it. Alice is dead and they killed her!” she cried in desperation.

Your blood began to boil as you realized the lies Elsa was concocting. She was obviously upset she’d been passed over. However, you weren’t to blame. The Shelbys chose you for the opportunity in America. She would have to accept that she might never be the chosen one.

Seeing her sunken eyes and shaking hands you took pity on her. She’d obviously spent many a night thinking of her wasted potential. You decided it best to play along and tell her the ghosts she saw were real.

“Alright, Elsa, I’ll be careful. Thank you for telling me,” you placated her with a pat to her shoulder. She only sniffed at you in reply and you walked away with a toss of your head.

————————-

Three months later it was your final night in the Shelby household and you felt a calm acceptance of whatever was to come. Your time spent with them had strung together in an endless night, leaving you physically and emotionally drained. They were the most insatiable couple you’d ever met, constantly pushing you beyond the boundaries of your own understanding. Their “adventures” as they liked to call them left your body marked in all manner of bites, burns and bruises, but you wore them proudly. You had a need to please them and in doing so you felt yourself becoming a different person. In truth, you would have given them anything or done whatever they asked for a single word of praise.

When you arrived in their bedroom that warm July evening, wrapped in your silk robe from Daisy, you had no thoughts of denying them any last wish. Therefore, when Tommy began his aggressive lovemaking you succumbed to him, knowing Daisy would soothe the pain with tender kisses. You allowed Tommy's calloused hand to wrap around your throat possessively as you rode him, his thick fingers digging into your flesh and restricting your air until a lightheadedness washed over you.

The fuzzier your head became, the heavier your body, movements sloppy and uncoordinated. As you struggled to stay upright, Daisy took hold of the ties binding your hands behind your back to guide you. Then her skillful fingers dropped to your pulsing clit, rolling and pinching until the coil in your belly pulled tight. Noticing the overwhelming need in your eyes she whispered sweetly in your ear, “Do you think you can cum before he kills you?”

Your eyes snapped open in panic, body thrashing as Daisy’s girlish laugh filled the air. You tried to shake your hands free, but Daisy held you tightly as Tommy planted his feet against the bed and thrust into you with animalistic drive. When your fight had gone and the darkness descended upon the edges of your vision, you gave into the rushing in your ears like a lullaby, a single tear rolling down your cheek in surrender.

Then without warning, Daisy called out. “Tom, you brute, you’re scaring our pet!” His paced slowed and his hand uncoiled, leaving you to draw lungfuls of air that brought you back to life with a rush of overwhelming emotion. As Daisy hushed you, she began to lick your tears away, sucking at your delicate neck until a dark bruise formed. Your head dropped to her breasts with Tommy’s cock pulsing inside you and you trembled in relief.

“So good for us, darling,” Daisy praised you. “Would you like a treat?” she asked, holding your chin up and kissing your cheek gently. "You want to be allowed to cum now?" You could barely respond as your mind tried to process the notion that they were pleased with you, but Tommy’s hand connected with your ass in a stinging slap, bringing you out of yourself suddenly.

“Answer,” his deep voice urged and you nodded into her hand. “Good. Remember your manners,” he said, taking hold of your hip in a painfully tight grasp.

“Please, can I cum, sir?” you exhaled on a ragged breath, full of desire.

Tommy chuckled at your use of the term of authority he loved so much. He looked to Daisy and she nodded. Your eyes slipped closed momentarily as he resumed his thrusts, hitting the spot inside you that made your toes curl and said, “Cum all over my cock, like a good girl, but let us hear you.” You moaned for them as you willed your spent body to move, chasing the high you’d become addicted to over the past weeks and wanting to satisfy Tommy as well.

Daisy nibbled your earlobe as the waves of pleasure carried you, her intoxicating giggle echoing in your ear, distracting you from a swift movement at her side. You never felt the slice of the blade across your throat, only vaguely aware of warmth leaving your body as you looked down at Tommy in horror. Silenced by your injury, you could only watch as dark crimson sprayed across his toned chest.

Tommy came inside you with a satisfied shudder, your face crumbling in exquisite agony above him. As the light faded from your eyes, Daisy placed a kiss to your mouth one last time saying, “Goodnight, sweet darling.”

She helped Tommy lay you down as she sighed contentedly, then Tommy reached for his wife with a stern warning. “We have to stop this, Daisy,” he said, thinking of the calls he would have to make to Johnny Dogs and the men soon.

“I don’t want to,” she pouted. “I was smart this time, I used a blade so no one would hear,” she said proudly.

“Yeah…you fucking did,” he said with a proud smirk and pulled her in for a kiss that lead to a long, slow fuck in your blood. Frances would clean up in the morning when the body would be loaded into the trunk they’d purchased for your departure.

Your letter would arrive from America in a month’s time, the signature lifted from the contract you’d signed months earlier. It was all too convincing on the letter Daisy typed. No one would ever question it, especially not Liesel, their new toy who would join them tomorrow night for her introduction to the Shelby household.

She was already upstairs in the servants’ quarters placing her things in the trunk the Shelbys provided and thanking God for her good fortune. She'd met Elsa, of course, but not believed a word of the poor woman's ramblings about missing women and murders in the house.

“Careless and cruel” Elsa called her employers, but Liesel couldn’t understand why she would say such a thing. Careless people didn't take such good care of their employees, did they?

---------------

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@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@noforkingclue

@pacifymebby

@dandelionprints

@look-at-the-soul

@thomashelbyswife

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@moral-terpitude

@scorpiussage

@shelby-fangirl00

@l1-l4

@justlulu

@kmc1989

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@the-fangirl-diaries

@allie131313

@watercolorskyy

@everyonesawhore

@mrkdvidal1989

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x y/n #dark!Tommy #Tommy Shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Cillian Murphy

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