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olsenmyolsen · 10 months ago

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Request from anon: Wanda and y/n have been in a relationship for some months and both of them have a crush on Natasha so they decide to invite her for a threesome and she accepts. Y/n and Natasha are g!p

You Both Huh? (18+)

maroon master list . dark master list . request marvel master list . short n’ sweet master list

Post Age of Ultron: (Wanda Maximoff X G!P Reader X G!P Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: You, Wanda, and Natasha discover and learn about each other's bodies.

Word Count: 2.6K

Content: Fluff, Comfort, Feelings, wlw, sex, threesome, oral, porn with plot

This was my first time writing G!P, and I hope I did it justice! Please let me know if I did anything wrong ❤️

Natasha was exhausted.

After a month of being deep undercover and alone with her thoughts in another country, she was finally back home.

Back at the compound.

Back to be with her found family and friends.

Yet only you and Wanda seemed to be home.

As the elevator doors opened, Natasha found the two of you curled up on the couch in the living room. What Natasha doesn't know is how the two of you were waiting for your favorite redhead to come back home. So, as she steps out from the elevator and her boots hit the floor, Wanda lifts her head up and looks back.

A huge smile breaks out on the younger brunette as she turns to you and shakes you awake from your cat nap.

You rub the sleep out of your eyes as Wanda grabs your hand, and the two of you fly off the couch to Natasha. "Oh my gosh, Wanda! Y/n!" Natasha exclaims as she sees you two quickly make your way over. Her bags hitting the ground as she wraps her arms around her friends.

Her friends that just so happen to be a couple that have a crush on her.

But that's for in a little bit!

Natasha's had her suspicions, but she's a spy, so being on guard 24/7 is like her thing.

As you breathe in the dry shampoo from Natasha's hair, you hear Wanda communicate to you. "Tonight can be perfect." You can't help but smirk and turn your head to eye Wanda.��"If Natasha is up for it." You communicate back, making Wanda playfully roll her eyes—something Natasha catches.

"Already? I just got back and you two are already having secret conversations?"

"Sorry, babes!" You comment as you let go of Natasha. "Just about our plans for later." Natasha shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "Okay, sure, whatever." Wanda can't help but laugh as Natasha pretends not to believe you.

"So, where's everyone else?" Natasha asks as she picks up her bags, but Wanda's magic stops her as red tendrils pick them up. "Still need to get used to that," Natasha remarks, even if Sokovia was a year ago. Wanda smiles wide.

"Thor is off-world. Tony and Pepper are doing stuff with M.I.T. Cap and Sam are busy with their missing friend. The toaster is still on sleep mode." Natasha laughs at the last dig you throw in while Wanda rolls her eyes as the three of you arrive at Natasha's door.

"And Banner?" She questions before Wanda can make a comment about her robotic friend. You shake your head. "Nothing to report." Natasha hums and nods her head as she opens her door. "Well, maybe that's best."

"Yeah, it's not like you need him," Wanda says, surprising all three of you. You turn to your girlfriend of the last six months, shocked as she drops her mouth. "Oh my gosh! Natasha, I'm so sorry that was supposed to be an inside thought!"

Natasha looks shocked and looks from you to Wanda. Her surprised face slowly morphs into a quizzical look as she tilts her head and leans against her open door. "An inside thought, huh? What did you mean by it?"

Wanda opens and closes her mouth. "Umm." She looks to you, but you don't know how to help Wanda other than telepathically telling her: "Maybe now's the time."

Wanda closes her mouth, and she decides to go for it.

She looks from you to the redhead, still waiting for an answer. "I meant what I said. You don't need him. You don't him for a release o-or for someone to.. connect with... when... when you have us." When Wanda finally gets through her sentence, she peeks into Natasha's green eyes and does her best not to tap into Natasha's mind.

"When I have you both?" Natasha softly questions as you stand next to Wanda and grab her hand. Letting her know you fully appreciate her for speaking up for the both of you.

You nod to the older woman in front of you. "We like you, Tasha."

"A lot," Wanda adds on.

Suddenly, Natasha's suspicions and nagging feelings made a lot more sense. She was right. The two of you had a crush on the Black Widow. Natasha's body relaxed against the door frame as her neutral face turned into a light smile.

"You both, huh?" She questioned as her smile turned more into a smirk. This made the ever-growing feeling in your stomach flip and turn as Wanda squeezed your hand tighter. "Yes," Wanda spoke for the two of you.

"How long?" Natasha asked as her eyes danced from you to your girlfriend and back. "Since... always?" You said as Wanda nodded. "You're kind of impossible not to develop feelings for," Wanda replied, making Natasha laugh before she took a step closer.

"Well, it's a good thing I like to keep an open mind about these types of situations," Natasha said, confusing you slightly. "What type of situations?" You asked as Natasha turned around and kicked open her door wider as she walked into her room.

Wanda's green eyes and your own followed the figure of the redhead. Her back to you as she lifted up her shirt, revealing her black bra straps underneath. She then turned her head halfway towards you and your girlfriend. "These types... Now, are you two going to join me or not?"

Your girlfriend and you had waited for this moment, so it was no surprise when the door closed behind the two of you and locked in record speed due to Wanda's powers. Natasha smiled and loved it as the two of you continued to watch the show she put on. She smirked and kept her back to you both as she slowly unclipped her bra and unbuttoned her black jeans after kicking off her boots.

The sight of Natasha's creamy ass hidden beneath a pair of black boxers made you want to bite your fist. It was hot and slow and left you wanting more as she turned around to you two.

And that's when you saw it.

Your eyes went wide as Wanda's stomach officially blew up with butterflies. The bulge in Natasha's skin-tight boxers was astounding and, best of all... real.

You and Wanda had no idea.

Natasha who had been nervous and otherwise embarrassed with her reveal in the past could see the look in you and your girlfriends eyes and knew she had nothing to worry about.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Natasha smirked as you and Wanda stepped closer and closer. "That's not the word I would use," Wanda spoke shakily before she looked at you.

You swallowed and wasted no time. You slowly undressed and lifted your eyes to Natasha's green orbs. Wanda followed along as her sundress quickly slipped off and pooled around her feet.

A sight Natasha lightly gasped at as the only thing Wanda wore underneath was a pair of red cotton panties.

"I guess this is one more thing we have in common." You spoke to Natasha as she turned her eyes to you as you slipped off your black pants.

Now it was Natasha's turn for her eyes to go wide as she drank you and your sizable middle section. "Holy shit." She whispered into the room as you threw your shirt off and grabbed Wanda's hand.

All three of you standing in your underwear. Your eyes dance from one person to the other.

Natasha took the lead after a moment and closed the distance between you and Wanda. She dropped her hand to where you and Wanda held each other and grabbed it. "I have to say you two continue to surprise me." Natasha turned her head to the brunette. "Especially you, Wanda."

"Me?" Your girlfriend questioned, making Natasha nod as she led you to her king-sized bed.

Leave it to Natasha to never be at the compound but have a king-sized bed.

Natasha's legs hit the bed before she swung her legs around and started moving back toward her headboard. You and Wanda followed as you crawled onto the bed on your knees. "Well, I never would've thought that Sokovian girl in my red jacket would be up for such... activities."

Wanda blushed as she turned her head away. Natasha looks to you. "But now I see why." Natasha looks you up and down and moves her hands to brush along your sides as Wanda looks back at you both. You shiver and feel your body jolt at the contact. "Kiss me," Natasha speaks to you as her hands form a grip on your hips as she moves her legs out from under her.

"Do it."

You listen to Wanda's voice in your head, and Natasha commands and moves forward, crashing your lips into Natasha, making the older woman fall back with shock before she closes her eyes and savors the taste of you.

With hunger, your rushed kiss turns into a heated make-out session that leaves Wanda feeling more and more aroused as she watches your body fall into Natasha's. Wanda can't help but dart her green eyes down to see how you and Natasha have grown larger.

The feeling of desire darkens Wanda's eyes as a quiet moan escapes her lips—something Natsha's jewelry-covered ears pick up and makes her slow the taste of your tongue.

Natasha opens her eyes and slowly pushes you by your shoulders just a tad as she looks from Wanda back to you. Natasha can't help but smile at the look Wanda wears. "Now, now, we can't forget about a special someone," Natasha says to you, making you shake your head. "No, we can't." Your words come out almost breathless as you lift off Natasha, grab Wanda by her hand, and pull her close. "Come here, baby."

Wanda obeys and moves to the postion you were just in, pleasing you and Natasha.

"Oh, hi there, beautiful," Natasha says as Wanda looks down at the redhead. "Hi." Wanda shyly smiles and giggles before Natasha runs her hand through Wanda's hair and places her hand on the back of Wanda's skull. "Come here." Natasha softly whispers as she gently lowers Wanda onto her and kisses the witch's pink lips.

You watch from behind as the two move with slow passion. Dear lord, and just when you think the night couldn't get better, your eyes and hand start to trail down Wanda's backside past her scars and moles.

Down to her underwear, you find a growing wet spot and smile.

Wanda gasps into Natasha's lips as you start to pull down the red cotton panties. Natasha notices and moves her hand from Wanda's side and across her hips.

Wanda does her best to close her legs as Natasha touches her, but Natasha pushes them open and looks up to the brunette with a smile. "It's okay. Let us take care of you." Natasha lifts her left hand up to cup Wanda's face as her right-hand skims the top of Wanda's clit. "And then you can take care of me," Natasha smirks before her tongue enters Wanda's mouth.

The younger woman accepts it and moans into Natasha's mouth as she feels you shift on the bed, and Natasha's fingers circle her wet clit.

Your hands coming in contact with her bare ass moments later.

And then Wanda feels your naked thighs brush up against the backs of hers. "Oh, baby." You moan, making Wanda and Natasha stop to turn and look at you.

"Fuck look at that," Natasha says as you hold your penis lining it up to Wanda's entrance. Wanda closes her eyes and turns her head back to collapse her body onto Natasha.

Natasha smiles as she watches and feels Wanda's breath against her chest as you slowly push forward. Wanda whimpers and moans against Natasha's skin before the redhead lifts her face and kisses her.

"It feels so good." Wanda quietly says between the two of them. Natasha nods. "I know, baby." She replies by bringing her right hand back up to Wanda. Her middle and ring fingers glistened from Wanda's wetness. Natasha looks from her hand to Wanda's face and brings it to the brunette's lips.

Without being told, Wanda opens her mouth and closes it around the two fingers before she sucks and tastes herself.

"My, my Wanda, you are a good girl." Wanda moans around Natasha's fingers and shuts her eyes as you push deeper into her. The feeling of pleasure radiates off her body and onto Natasha, who smirks and loves the sight before her.

With a smile, Natasha slowly pulls her finger out of Wanda's mouth. Wanda's lips fall against the callous skin before flipping back up once Natasha leaves her.

Wanda opens her eyes again as Natasha runs her hand up Wanda's face to her head. "You're taking her so well, aren't you?" Natasha asks, making you smile. Wanda nods without any words escaping her mouth. "Do you think you can handle more?" Natasha asks Wanda, who nods again. "Yes."

Regardless of the answer, Natasha was going to push on Wanda's head. But the brunette started moving down willingly as her lips left a trail of hot kisses down Natasha's front exposed body until she reached the band of her black boxers.

Wanda was getting more and more lost in the lust of the situation as she touched Natasha, and you fucked her doggy style, making her start to act on desire.

Not that Natasha minded the watching and feeling Wanda's hot breath and tongue work up and down the outline of her cock against the fabric. The friction and the need for it to be released made Natasha squirm just a bit, but it was not enough to make Wanda drunk with power.

Because even she wanted to taste it and feel it slide down her throat.

So she gave in and let her hot hands pull down Natasha's boxers, exposing the redhead's cock to the cool air of the room. "O-oh my gosh, Natasha." Wanda practically moaned as you thrust into her. She looked up to her friend, who wore a smirk. "Go ahead." Natasha encouraged to which Wanda nodded and wasted no time licking her lips and taking the tip into her mouth as Wanda's hand wrapped itself around the base.

As Natasha fell back, your girlfriend's head began to bob up and down.

You didn't think anything else would be hotter.

And yet, when Natasha's hand pushed down onto Wanda's head, making her gag as Natasha smirked, you found true bliss.

You found it again as Natasha moaned and moaned due to the vibrations coming from Wanda's screams of pleasure on Natasha's cock as you gripped the brunette's hips and pounded into her.

And then again and again as you, Wanda, and Natasha explored each other and made each other feel loved, cared for, dirty, and like a bunch of sluts all night.

You cumming in Wanda never made Natasha feel so good.

But after that night, it wasn't just you and Wanda.

It was the three of you together.

It's a good thing Tasha had that king bed and that Baner, who you didn't know, swung both ways, was off-world.

What an idiot.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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popcornforone · 5 days ago

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Morning Brew

A Frankie “Catfish” Morales Fan Fic

Happy Frankie Friday

Back when I was doing the seasons of life challenge I was talking to @berryispunk & she was like we need to write fics about Pedro Boys in Cafes getting Coffee, & I went yes drafted a couple then never thought about it again. But now the suns out & its warm & it’s iced coffee season (although I always say its iced coffee season) I was like what would Frankie do so why not post it for Frankie Friday.

Synopsis:- It’s the Morning after the night before & you decide to make Frankie a coffee.

Word Count:- 3000

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV sex, teasing, oral mentioned, swearing, light chocking, addiction mentioned, established relationship, steamy & sexual tension. The Hat comes into play.

Thanks as always for the read peoples. I hope you enjoy .

“Frankie.”

His name spilled from your lips the night before, again, & again, & again. His hands were everywhere, his mouth relentless, your body caught in the current of every high he pulled from you.

Not once. Not twice. Three times, & you’re still not entirely convinced you’ve come back down. People had warned you, half laughing, when you started seeing Frankie Morales. That man’s dangerous with his tongue, they said. You rolled your eyes then, chalked it up to just gossip, legend &wishful thinking.

But now? Now you know. The gossip didn’t do him justice.

You’d barely had time to blink between the way he pulled you under & the way your body shattered, trembling as he coaxed every last tremor out of you. He never once held back. He gave and gave, whispering things “Cum for me, baby. Don’t leave me hangin’. Let me see those eyes widen.” His voice was low & wrecked, your legs slung over his shoulders, his mouth like sin and salvation all at once.

No one’s ever made you feel this full. This wrecked. This seen. & not once, not even as his body worked over yours, did he take off that damn cap.

That filthy, sweat soaked, battle worn cap you always tease him about. It clung to him the same way you did.

The sweat on his face, dripping from his brow, catching in the dip of his throat, God, he was sexy. Animal & man all at once. That low growl he made when he buried himself inside you? You’ll hear it in your bones for days.

And now he’s asleep beside you, curled around you like he’s guarding something precious.

Like you are. You turn onto your side & just watch him for a while. His breaths come in soft little huffs, & one gentle snore makes the curl on his forehead bounce. Your chest aches in that sweet, unfamiliar way, because it hits you, in that quiet morning light: not only are you his… He’s yours, too.

You carefully slide out of his arms, easing yourself from the cocoon of warmth, & immediately regret the chill even on this Florida morning. His scent still lingers on your skin, sea salt, after sex smoke, & soap, his soap, unapologetically Frankie.

The room is a mess. It was a mess before last night, & after the way you were practically torn out of your clothes? Total battlefield. You glance around. No sign of your underwear. Figures. The floor’s scattered with crumpled receipts, scuffed boots, gym bags, old clothes, cracked sunglasses, a couple of magazines you don’t want to examine too closely… & then finally: a pair of his boxers & that soft, worn grey T-shirt you love on him.

You tug them on. The fabric’s warm from the sun streaming through the blinds, & when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, his shirt slipping off your shoulder, his cap that has been on the bedside table, now perched backwards on your head, you smirk. Dressed in Morales, head to toe.

Padding out of the bedroom, you head toward the kitchen. Coffee. You’ve both earned it.

Minutes later Frankie stirs before he opens his eyes. The bed is cooler now, your warmth gone from beside him, but the sheets still hold your scent, sweet, warm, unmistakably you. He presses his face into the pillow where your head had been & breathes deep, a low hum vibrating in his chest like a purr. Vanilla, maybe. Salt from the sea. & something deeper, you. He lets himself stay there for a moment, arm flung across the mattress, dog tags sticking to his chest. His semi growing.

The night comes back in pieces in his mind & he smiles. You in his lap, laughing against his mouth. The way your hips rolled, slow & knowing. That high pitched gasp you let out when he pressed just right, & how your nails dug into his shoulders like you were afraid he’d disappear. Yeah. He was wanting & needing you, he needed a release soon or it would be a waste..

And then his nose picks up the scent…Coffee.

He smells it before he hears anything else. Rich, dark, real. Not the instant crap he usually downs without thinking. This has intention. A little sweetness, maybe even cinnamon, & that smell of slightly burnt toast you always say is “character.” He cracks one eye open & squints at the empty space beside him. The mattress is missing that weight, the shift of your knee against his thigh, but on the nightstand, sitting like a little tribute, is your hair tie. He smiles at that, wondering how soon your hair will be tied up again & when he can next expect you worshiping him on your knees.

He swings his legs over the bed. His body aches in the best way. He finds a pair of grey sweatpants slung over the back of the chair, tugs them on with one hand raking through his hair. He doesn’t bother with a shirt. You’ve already seen every scar, earned or accidental. Hiding anything now would be pointless. The scent grows stronger as he walks down the hall. The clink of a spoon in a mug. A low hum, your voice, off key & half asleep. Maybe you’re singing to the coffee machine. He rounds the corner to the kitchen & stops just short of the doorway.

There you are. Back turned, hips swaying gently as you stir a cup with practiced focus. One of his mugs in hand, one waiting on the counter. His boxers hang low on your hips, the grey T-shirt barely brushing your thighs. & on your head, his hat. Backwards. He huffs a soft laugh through his nose, arms folding across his chest.

“Stealing my hat now, huh?”

You don’t turn. “Well, you weren’t using it. I figured someone had to carry the tradition of morning headwear.” you say sarcastically. There has been no morning where Frankie hasn’t instantly his cap back on.

He watches you for a moment longer before stepping into the room.

“You makin’ coffee or art over there?” he teases, coming up behind you, voice still rough with sleep. His arms slide around your waist, pulling you back against the warm wall of his chest. Your favourite spot.

“I made it right,” you say, smug. “Real beans. Real effort. You’re welcome.”

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling. “Smells better than what I usually drink.”

You smile. “That’s because this cup has love in it.”

He presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder. “Dont tell me you’ve mucked about with it too much I hope it doesn’t taste like vanilla & a little too much cream?”

You hand him the cup without turning around. “Just try it, Morales.”He does. One sip, & his eyes close. His jaw relaxes. A quiet sigh leaves him like someone took fifty pounds off his shoulders.

“…Okay. You win.”

You finally twist around in his arms & beam at him, then reach up to tilt his cap, your cap now maybe he will like it if it smells of you, back slightly. He meets your eyes, sleepy but softened, &something warm flickers between you.

“You gonna let me keep this hat?” you ask, teasing. Your eyes running over his glistening skin.

He pretends to think about it. “Depends.”

“On?”

He leans down, voice dropping just low enough to make your skin tighten.”On whether you’re gonna wear it only this… or only this.”

You grin, bold & unbothered. “Frankie Morales, are you trying to seduce me before coffee’s even finished?”

He raises his mug. “Baby, you made magic in this cup. I’m wide awake.”

You take a sip of your own coffee just to give your hands something to do. Because Frankie’s looking at you now, not with his usual sleepy smirk, but with the kind of slow, simmering hunger that makes your stomach drop & your breath catch in your throat. You know what he wants & you want it too.

His eyes travel down the length of you, his boxers barely clinging to your hips, his grey T-shirt hitched just high enough to tease your thighs, his hat backwards on your head like it belongs there.

He sets the mug down without a word. You feel it before it happens, the tension shifts. The air thickens. His hand curls lightly around your wrist, warm & calloused, & then he tugs. Gentle, insistent.

You move before your brain catches up.

He pushes you backward, slowly but purposefully, until your hips bump the edge of the counter. Then he steps between your legs, bracketing you in with his thighs, his palms finding your waist like they’ve known the shape of you forever. He tilts your chin up with two fingers. His voice is a low whisper, feathering over your skin like smoke.

“You really wanna wear my hat,” he murmurs, eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, “you gotta earn it, baby.”

Your breath hitches. Your coffee mug trembles in your grip, so you set it down fast, somewhere, anywhere, because you need your hands free for his touch. He leans in so close you can feel the heat of his mouth, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. Just brushes his nose against yours. Lets his lips hover just above yours.

“You smell like sleep & sex & coffee,” he mutters, voice rough.

“You like it?” You reply sultrily.

“No, I adore it, It’s driving me crazy.”

Your fingers curl into the waistband of his sweats, tugging him closer until your hips meet. He’s hard against you already, of course he is the man is big, you whimper just at the feel of it.

“Frankie…” you whisper.

“What do you want, baby?” he breathes against your mouth.

You almost say it. Almost beg for him like your body wants to. But his mouth finds your throat, his tongue dragging up the line of your neck before his teeth scrape gently at your jaw. You arch into him, one hand fisting in the back of his hair, the other gripping the fabric of his sweats like you’re hanging on for dear life.

“Tell me,” he says again, but this time his voice is lower, gravel mixed with command. Your pride flickers. But then his hand slips beneath the hem of the shirt, his shirt although he now will only see it as yours, palm skating up your ribs, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. You gasp, grinding into him without thinking.

“Frankie baby, please.” Your voice cracks. “I need you. I need your mouth. I need, God…” your voice hushed”…just kiss me.”

His lips finally crash into yours, hot, deep, claiming. He kisses like he’s making up for lost time. Like he’s starving for it. His tongue slides past your lips & you moan into him, hips rolling up against his, & the counter behind you might as well disappear because the only thing anchoring you is him.

The kiss turns messy fast, your fingers tugging at his curls, his hand sliding beneath your thigh to hook your leg around his waist. You cling to him, breathless, overwhelmed. Eventually you break the kiss for air, your voice is wrecked.

“Frankie. Please. I’m begging you.”

His forehead rests against yours. His chest is heaving, his eyes dark and shining.

“Fuck,” he mutters, thumbing your lower lip, voice wrecked. “You’re better than any coffee, baby.” He presses another kiss, soft this time, reverent, to the corner of your mouth.

“You’re my new addiction.”

“You’re were always addiction,” he says again, quieter this time. That’s when he lifts you. It’s as easy as anything as with his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, arms steady & sure. You gasp, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he hoists you onto the counter, the cool surface making you shiver until his body fills the space again.

He steps between your knees & kisses you like he owns the air in your lungs. Like if he stops, he’ll forget how to breathe.

Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging the curls at the base of his neck, & he groans low in his throat, that erotic sound, the one that makes you throb between your thighs, the one that’s purely, filthily Frankie. You’re already soaked for him. Trembling with anticipation.

His hands are everywhere now, rough palms skimming up your thighs, pushing that soft grey T-shirt up & out of the way. One hand splays across your lower back, pulling you closer, while the other brushes the waistband of the boxers.

“Gonna take these off you real slow,” he murmurs, lips ghosting down your throat, “but only if you ask me nicely.”

You’re already breathless, dizzy. “Frankie…mmmm”

“Uh-uh. Ask me.”

You whimper, grabbing at his shoulders. “Take them off. Please. I need to feel you.”

His grin is wicked. “Good girl.”

He slides the boxers down your hips, dragging them down your legs until you’re bare beneath him, thighs spread wide, shameless, needy & naked. His eyes darken the second he sees you.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “Look at you.”

He cups your sex, just the flat of his hand pressing in, &your hips jerk. His fingers dip lower, stroking through your slick, teasing your entrance, then sliding up to your clit with the lightest pressure. You cry out, hips rolling against his hand.

“This wet already?” he tuts with a smirk, voice wrecked. “All for me?”

You nod, panting. “Yes. Only you. Always you.”

That sends him.

He groans, deep broken & filled with lust, he’s tugging his sweats down just enough to free himself. He’s thick, heavy, & flushed, already leaking at the tip. You reach for him, but he’s already lining himself up, rubbing the head through your folds. Just the feel against your clit has you gripping until your knuckles are white. His frenzied eyes locked with yours.

“You sure?” he asks, even now, when he knows he’s gonna sink into pleasure any second.

You cup his jaw. “Frankie. I’m yours.”

He pushes into you in one slow, breathtaking thrust. You cry out, back arching, his name slipping past your lips like a it’s the last words you’ll ever say. He sinks in deep, so deep, until he’s seated fully, hips flush with yours, filling you to the hilt. He’s shaking, just barely.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re so tight. So perfect.”

He stills inside you for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathing like you just ran a marathon.

Then, he moves & boy do you know you’re about to experience immense pleasure.

Slow at first, deep & controlled, letting you feel every inch. His hips roll into yours, his cock dragging along every nerve ending you didn’t even know you had. Your legs tighten around him, pulling him closer, & he grunts. You meet each thrust eagerly, matching his rhythm, clinging to him as the counter rocks beneath you. His hand finds your clit again, rubbing tight circles in time with his thrusts, &your moans get louder, needier. Desperate to please him.

“Cum for me,baby” he pants, lips brushing your ear. “Let me feel you fall apart, baby.”

You break. Your orgasm hits hard & fast, your body clenching around him, you can’t even scream in your breathless state. He follows moments later, burying himself deep as he spills inside you with a hoarse moan of your name, one hand gripping your waist like you might disappear.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Just breath. Skin on skin. His body still wrapped around yours. The fresh scent of sex & coffee lingering in the air.

Then Frankie leans in & kisses you, soft & slow, the kind of kiss that will linger well past this morning.

“Definitely,” he murmurs, brushing your nose with his, “my favorite addiction.”

The kitchen is quiet but still humming, steam curling from forgotten mugs, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Frankie’s arms stay locked around you as he eases his forehead against yours, both of you catching what breath you can find. He brushes a thumb across your cheek, eyes lingering on the flush there. A lazy grin curves his mouth, soft, teasing, utterly content.

“I could get used to this,” he murmurs, voice warm gravel. “You makin’ me coffee… & me…” he hitches a brow, lets the grin turn wicked “well… rewarding you like that every morning.”

A laugh slips out of you, breathless and shaky in the best way. “Is that your best offer, Morales?”

He gives a slow, deliberate nod, then reaches up & plucks his own cap off your head. In one easy flick he sends it sailing across the room, lands somewhere near the fridge with a soft thud.

“Yeah,” he says, eyes never leaving yours. “It is.”

You bite your lip, feigning consideration. “Well, Morales, I do make a mean cup of coffee.”

“& I,” he rumbles, sliding his hands down your hips to lift you off the counter, keeping you flush against his chest, “have an endless supply of… incentives.”

Your legs wrap around him again on instinct. You feel him already stirring back to life, slow but insistent, against the slick heat between your thighs.

“Guess you’ll need more beans,” you whisper, nipping at his jaw.

“Guess I will,” he agrees, walking you toward the hallway, one hand splayed at the small of your back, steady as a promise. “But first? Round two in bed. Counter’s too damn hard for how soft I wanna take you this time. & we can heat the coffee up later.”

You gasp, a happy, helpless sound, fingers threading through his hair as he carries you away from the cooling coffee, toward warm sheets & another sunrise you’ll likely miss.

Some addictions, you decide, are worth feeding daily.

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drippingghoneyy · 4 months ago

Text

Nothing To You - Silco X Fem!Reader

Summary: You argued with Jinx, which escalated into a conflict with Silco. You need him to care about both you and Jinx's well-being. He needs to focus on what’s in front of him.

Genre/ Pairing: Smut, Make-Up Sex, Argument, Silco x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: MDNI!, SMUT 18+, Smoking/Drinking, Crying, tension, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, pet names, whore, piv, squirting, fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex ( f receiving), tongue fucking,... (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: 13k.

Notes: I am sorry it’s so long, I like to develop a story😭

I’ve been wanting to write about more people! So give me suggestions!

Reblog and like!! I read every comment, they make my whole day!

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

The echoes of your footsteps bounced off the cold, concrete walls of the labyrinthine halls. Your breath came out in furious puffs, each exhale a declaration of your frustration. You had just come from a heated confrontation with Jinx, Silco's volatile and unpredictable daughter. Her eyes, usually a brilliant shade of blue that could charm the most stoic of souls, were now ablaze with rebellion.

The fight had started innocently enough. You'd only wanted to protect her, to shield her from the harsh realities of the world you both knew too well. "You're too young," you'd insisted, your voice tight with concern. "This mission is for the experienced, for those who have seen more than their share of blood."

But she was insistent, her voice rising with every word. "I can handle it," she spat, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm not a child anymore."

You watched her, the fiery determination in her eyes, and felt a twinge of pride. But the fear for her safety was stronger. "You're not ready," you said firmly, the words cutting through the tension like a knife.

Jinx's eyes narrowed, the gears of defiance turning in her head. "You're not my mom," she retorted, the words landing like a slap across your face.

The words hung in the air between you, charged with accusation and anger. You felt a surge of heat rush through your veins, a potent cocktail of love and exasperation. "I'm still fucking your dad," you shot back, the words leaving your mouth before you had the chance to think twice. The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of your words. Jinx's cheeks flushed with a mix of shock and rage.

In the aftermath of the explosive statement, you felt your own emotions unravel. You hadn't meant to say it, not like that. It was a slip, a clumsy retort born of the tumult of feelings inside you. The bond you shared with Silco was complex, a tapestry of passion, loyalty, and the weight of shared secrets. But here it was, thrown out like a grenade in the middle of an already volatile situation.

Jinx's eyes went wide, the color draining from her face. She looked at you with a mix of horror and disbelief, the fight in her posture deflating. You could see the cogs in her mind spinning, trying to process what you'd just said.

It was a low blow, one you hadn't intended to deliver. But the words had slipped out, a reflexive defense against her accusation, a reminder that she wasn't the only one who felt misunderstood.

As the silence stretched taut between you, you wished you could snatch them back, swallow them down like a bitter pill. But it was too late. The damage was done.

You felt a pang of guilt, a stab of regret that you hadn't found a better way to communicate your fears. But the anger still smoldered within you, a coal that had been poked too many times. You weren't her mother, but you had played the role of protector for so long that it felt as if you were.

With a heavy sigh, you turned on your heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the echo of your footsteps to mock you as you went. You needed to clear your head, to figure out how to fix this mess before it spun out of control.

You knew that Silco would hear about this, and you dreaded the conversation that was sure to come. But for now, you just needed space, a place to breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders.

The walk to Silco's office felt like an eternity, each step a deliberate stride away from the girl you had just hurt. The halls grew quieter as you approached, the usual cacophony of the undercity muffled by the thick walls of the building. You could almost feel the anger coiling back up inside you with every footfall, a serpent ready to strike again. Jinx had no right to say those things to you, not after everything you'd done for her.

You had been there for her, through the late nights when she couldn't sleep, the endless days of training, the tears shed in frustration. You had been the one to pick her up when she fell, to wipe her nose and whisper words of encouragement when she thought she couldn't go on. And now she was questioning your intentions, throwing your relationship with her father in your face like a weapon.

Finally, you arrived at the large, dark door that led to Silco's inner sanctum. The brass knob was cold under your hand, a stark reminder of the chilly reception you were likely to receive once you stepped over the threshold. A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold but from the anticipation of what was to come. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the storm that was about to break.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the dimly lit room, the scent of leather and oil lingering in the air. Silco sat on the couch, his usual aura of stoicism cracked, revealing the storm clouds gathering behind his eyes.

He looked up as you entered, his gaze sharp, demanding an explanation without uttering a single word. You felt the weight of his stare, a silent reprimand that was almost more powerful than any shout could ever be.

The office was a testament to his power, filled with artifacts of his reign over the city, each one a trophy of his cunning and might. Your eyes swept over them, a silent acknowledgment of the man you were about to face. Heart hammered in your chest, the echoes of the argument still resonating through you.

Silco's posture was relaxed yet commanding, one arm draped over the back of the leather couch, the other holding a half-smoked cigar that danced with embers at the tip. His legs were crossed, the ankle of one boot resting on the opposite knee.

He hadn't moved when you entered, his gaze unwavering and sharp, like the blade of a knife that hadn't been cleaned in a while. It was as if he had been carved from the very shadows that painted the room, a silent sentinel waiting for you to make your next move.

The tension grew as you approached, your steps slow and measured, trying to navigate the minefield of your own emotions. You knew he was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice had the power to shake the very foundations of your world. The air was thick with the scent of the cigar, mingling with the faint metallic tang of his power, a constant reminder of the volatility that lay beneath his calm exterior.

You swallowed hard, trying to organize your thoughts, but your mind was a whirlwind of doubt and anger. You hadn't wanted to fight with Jinx, but she had pushed you too far. And now here you were, about to face the consequences. You felt like you were on trial, standing before the man who had been both your lover and your boss, the man whose trust you had just shattered with a careless remark.

Silco took a long drag from the cigar, the embers glowing brighter for a moment before he exhaled a plume of smoke. The silence was a living, breathing entity, wrapping around you like a python, squeezing the words from your lungs.

You searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his features remained a mask of stoicism. His eyes, however, told a different story, flickering with a mix of anger and disappointment that stung like acid.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You know why she's so eager to go?" His voice was low, a rumble of thunder in the quiet room. "She's trying to find her place in this world, just like you did." The words hung between you, a challenge and an accusation rolled into one. He took another drag, the smoke curling around his head like a crown of mist.

"You've been her mentor, her guide," he continued, his tone even but the message clear. "But she's not a child anymore, and she'll make her own choices, just as you did when you came to me." His words were like a knife twisting in your gut, each one cutting deeper than the last. You knew he was right, but it didn't make the sting any less potent.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. What could you say to defend yourself? That you were just looking out for her? That you didn't want to see her get hurt? It all sounded so hollow now, standing in the face of his quiet dominance. You felt small, insignificant, like a bug that had dared to challenge a giant.

Silco's cigar smoldered between his fingers, the only sign of his own internal turmoil. His arm was casually thrown over the back of the couch, his legs crossed in a way that spoke of confidence and authority.

He didn't need to stand to intimidate; his presence filled the room, a looming specter that was impossible to ignore. The flame from the cigar cast flickering shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

The silence grew heavier, pressing down on you like a physical force. You could hear the tick of the clock on the wall, each second a countdown to the inevitable. Your palms grew slick with sweat, your heart racing like a caged animal desperate for escape.

But you couldn't look away from him, his eyes a piercing and seemed to bore into your very soul. You knew that when he finally spoke, his words would be measured.

"Is that what you really think?" Silco's voice was low and controlled, a stark contrast to the tumult inside you. "That she's not ready because she's just a child?" His gaze never wavered, a silent demand for you to justify your words. You felt the first flickers of defiance rekindle in your chest. How dare he question you like this? You had been there for her, had watched her grow from a scared girl into a powerful young woman.

"Jinx is more capable than you give her credit for," you shot back, the fire of the argument not quite extinguished. "But she's still impulsive, reckless. She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions."

The words tumbled out, fueled by the residual heat of your earlier confrontation. You had seen the destruction she could leave in her wake when she lost control, had picked up the pieces of her shattered experiments more times than you cared to count.

He leaned forward slightly, the shadows playing across his face, turning his expression into something more menacing. "And who made her that way?" he countered, his voice a soft growl. "Who taught her that chaos is a tool, that fear is power?"

The accusation hit you like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You hadn't meant to make Jinx into a monster; you'd just wanted to give her the strength to survive in a city that devoured the weak without a second thought.

You felt the need to defend yourself, to explain the years of care and guidance you had given her. "I taught her to be strong," you said, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. "To stand up for herself. But she's still so young, Silco. She doesn't understand the gravity of what we're doing here." You took a step closer to him, the anger in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar he held between his fingers.

Silco's silence was a wall, an impenetrable fortress that you were desperately trying to breach. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, the only outward sign of his own inner conflict.

"You're not her mother," he said finally, his voice as cold as the steel of the weapons that lined the walls. "You're her... mentor. And as such, it's your responsibility to support her, not hold her back."

The accusation stung, but you weren't about to back down. You raised your chin, a sardonic smile playing on your lips. "That's right," you said, the words dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not her mom. I'm nothing to her, apparently."

The smile didn't reach your eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once been there when you talked about her. "And you're not her dad, but you're okay with her throwing herself into danger?"

The air in the room grew colder, the tension thick enough to slice through with a knife. You watched the embers of his cigar burn, a silent metaphor for the smoldering anger between you. Silco took a moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke, his words were measured, each one chosen with precision. "I've always known that one day, she would make her own decisions. And I trust her to make the right ones."

The room was a battlefield, and every word was a weapon. You felt the sting of his doubt, the accusation that you were trying to control Jinx's life rather than guide it. "Fine," you said, your voice tight with unshed emotion. "If that's what you think, then I won't stand in her way." You turned on your heel, ready to leave, to find someplace where the walls weren't closing in on you.

But before you could take a step, Silco's hand shot out, his grip on your arm like a vice. "Don't," he said, his voice a warning growl. "Don't you dare walk away from this." His eyes searched yours, looking for something, anything that would tell him you weren't going to abandon her.

You met his gaze, the challenge in your eyes unwavering. "I'm not walking away," you said, your voice low and steady. "But I'm not going to watch her throw herself into the fire without a second thought." The silence between you was a battle of wills, two forces colliding, neither willing to back down.

Silco's grip on your arm tightened, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity that was more powerful than any shout. His silence was a cage, a prison that held you in place, forcing you to confront the truth of his words.

You could feel the anger pulsing through your veins, a red-hot fury that demanded release. But you knew that now was not the time for shouting matches. Now was the time for reason, for understanding.

"You know what she said to me," you whispered, the pain of her words still raw. "How could you defend her after that?" The question hung in the air, a challenge that demanded a response. Silco's grip on your arm didn't loosen, but his gaze softened slightly, the anger in his eyes flickering with something else.

He took a moment before speaking, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very floor beneath your feet. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said, the words a gentle admission. "But she needs to find her own path, just as you did." His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, for a sign that you would relent.

But the anger inside you was a living thing, a beast that had been poked one too many times. You pulled free from his grasp, your voice rising. "And what about me?" you demanded, your eyes flashing. "What about what I need?" The words hung in the air, a declaration of the tumult of emotions that swirled within you.

Silco's expression was unreadable, a mask that had been honed through years of navigating the treacherous waters of power and control. "You know I care for you," he said, his voice low and steady. "But my loyalty is to this city, to the people who depend on us." The words were a slap, a cold reminder that in the grand scheme of things, you were just another pawn in his game of dominance.

You felt the anger bubble up inside you, threatening to spill over. "Is that all I am to you?" you snapped, the words sharp as a whip. "Just another tool to be used and discarded when you deem it necessary?" The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your voice grew louder.

Silco's expression remained impassive, his silence a wall that you couldn't breach. It was infuriating, his calm demeanor only serving to fuel the fire in your belly. "Fuck you, Silco," you spat, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I'm not going to be nothing to anyone, especially not to someone who can't see what's right in front of them."

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the office. The door slammed shut behind you, the echo echoing down the hall like the final nail in a coffin. The rage inside you was a living, breathing creature now, pushing you to walk faster, to run away from the pain of his words.

You didn't know where you were going, only that you needed to get out of there. The labyrinth of the undercity stretched out before you, a maze of shadows and danger. But anywhere was better than the suffocating confines of that room, the room where you had just realized that maybe, just maybe, you had been wrong about everything.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds of the city assaulted your senses. The distant rumble of a hextech engine, the shouts of a street fight, the wail of a siren. It was a symphony of chaos that you had once found comfort in, but now it felt like a taunt, a reminder of the turmoil within.

You didn't look back, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. You just kept walking, your boots pounding against the pavement like the beating of a war drum. The buildings grew taller, the streets more treacherous, but you didn't care.

The wind whipped around you, carrying the scent of rain on the horizon. You felt the first drops hit your face, cold and sharp like tears. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You had to keep moving, had to put as much distance between you and that conversation as you could.

The rain grew heavier, soaking through your clothes, but the chill was nothing compared to the coldness in your heart. You had given so much to Jinx, had been there for her when Silco couldn't. And yet here you were, feeling like you had been discarded, tossed aside like yesterday's newspaper.

You didn't know where you would go, but you knew you couldn't stay. Not now. Not after what had been said. The rain mingled with your tears, blurring the world around you into a haze of color and light. But you didn't let it slow you down. You just kept walking, into the heart of the storm.

Silco's quiet dominance had always been a comfort to you, a rock you could cling to in the chaos of your life. But now it felt like a prison, a cage that kept you from being seen for who you truly were.

You had been his confidant, his right hand, his... something. But now, in the cold light of his accusation, you realized that maybe you were nothing more than a pawn in his grand scheme.

The raindrops stung your skin like tiny needles, each one a painful reminder of your own insignificance. You told him to go fuck himself, the words a declaration of your anger and frustration. He had no right to speak to you like that, to question your love and devotion to him, to Jinx. But he had, and you had no choice but to leave.

The door to the building slammed shut behind you, the finality of it echoing through the alleyways. The city was a blur of shadow and neon, a living, breathing creature that didn't care about your pain. You stumbled through the streets, the rain soaking you to the bone. But you didn't care. You felt alive, the electricity of the storm pulsing through your veins.

You needed to find somewhere to think, somewhere to breathe. Your heart was racing, your mind a maelstrom of emotion. You didn't know what the future held, only that you couldn't go back to the way things were. The bond you shared with Silco had been shattered, and you weren't sure if it could ever be repaired.

Three weeks had passed since that fateful argument, three weeks of silence that stretched like a noose around your neck.

You had thrown yourself into your work, into the very chaos that had once brought you and Silco together. The Undercity knew you, knew the woman who had built an empire by his side. And it was that knowledge that kept you going, the whispers of your name on the streets a balm to your bruised ego.

You took solace in the familiar embrace of the city's underbelly, the grime and the grime of the streets a comforting reminder of your roots. The whispers grew louder, the rumors spreading like wildfire. You had left Silco, they said. You had abandoned your post. But you knew the truth, and it was that truth that kept you going. You weren't leaving; you were fighting for your place.

Sevika had become your confidante, your partner in crime. You two had always had a bond, a shared history of surviving the worst that life could throw at you. And now, as you sat in the dimly lit bar, her hand on your shoulder, you felt the warmth of camaraderie seep into your very bones. She had seen you at your lowest, had picked you up when you were nothing but a broken doll in the hands of fate.

The whiskey burned a trail down your throat, the warmth spreading through your chest like a comforting embrace. The bar was your sanctuary now, the neon lights and the smell of stale beer a stark contrast to the cold, sterile halls of Silco's fortress. You had made it a point to be seen here, to be heard. You didn't need his approval to be important; you had the city's.

The patrons whispered as you entered, their eyes following your every move. They knew you, knew the fire that burned in your soul. You were a legend, a hero, and you were back in the game. Each night you and Sevika would sit, plotting your next move, drinking and laughing and living. It was a dangerous dance, but one that felt so right.

The air was thick with the scent of desperation and hope, a heady mix that only the Undercity could provide. For three weeks, you had avoided Silco's fortress, the place where your heart had once felt like it had found a home.

But now, it was just a prison you had escaped from, the bars of his expectations and the coldness of his words still echoing in your ears. The city had been your playground long before he had entered your life, and it welcomed you back with open arms.

That night, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick with oil and the occasional puddle of rainbow-colored chemical runoff. You were nestled in the corner of the bar, nursing a whiskey and contemplating your next move when you heard the door creak open. The air grew heavy with anticipation, and you felt a pair of eyes on you, unseen but palpable.

Jinx's footsteps were tentative as she approached, her boots clicking against the wet cobblestone floor. She looked like a lost kitten, drenched and shivering, her eyes wide and searching. She stopped a few feet away, her rain-soaked hair plastered to her face, her clothes clinging to her slender frame. The bar patrons had fallen quiet, sensing the tension that crackled between you like an unseen electric current.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, when she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said, the words thick with unshed tears. "I didn't mean it. I know you're not my mom, but... I don't know. I just wanted to go out there and prove myself." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to learn more before I can handle the big missions."

The room held its breath as you looked up at her, the whiskey in your hand frozen mid-sip. Her eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you would forgive her, that you would stay. And for a moment, you felt the anger melt away, replaced by the warmth of the love you had for her, the love that had led you to this point.

"I don't want you to leave," she said, her voice trembling. "I need you, I need you as... as someone who cares...please." The raw vulnerability in her words was like a punch to the gut, reminding you of all the times she had looked to you for guidance, for love, for acceptance. You set the glass down, the sound of it hitting the table like a gavel, final and irrevocable.

For a moment, the bar was still, the only sound the steady drip of water from Jinx's sodden clothes. You studied her, the young woman who had once been a scared, angry girl, and now stood before you with the beginnings of wisdom etched into her features. The realization that you had been her anchor, her beacon in the storm, filled you with a strange mix of pride and sorrow.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said, your voice softening. "But you need to understand, I'm not here to hold your hand through every mission. I'm here to teach you, to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did." You reached out, taking her cold hand in yours, feeling the tremor of her fear. "And if that means you go out there and kick some serious ass, then I'll be proud of you."

A tentative smile ghosted across her lips, the first sign of the Jinx you knew and loved. "But," you added, "you need to learn when to pick your battles." You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the tension in her fingers. "I'll always be here for you, but I can't be everywhere at once. And if you go off half-cocked, you're going to get yourself killed."

The room exhaled collectively as the tension eased, the patrons returning to their conversations and drinks. But the moment between you and Jinx was still palpable, a silent understanding that had been forged in the fires of anger and regret. "I know," she said, her eyes meeting yours, "I just... I don't want to let you down."

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, the weight of her fear and hope resting in your palms. You pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, the steady beat of her heart beneath your own. "You could never let me down," you whispered into her ear. "You're already more than I could have ever asked for."

For a brief moment, the chaos of the bar faded away, and it was just the two of you, the rain outside a distant memory. You could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, the burden of expectations and the fear of failure that had driven her to push so hard.

And in that instant, you realized that she wasn't just your student or even a daughter-figure; she was a piece of your soul, a living, breathing part of you that had grown from the ashes of your own past.

Her apology hung in the air like a shimmering thread of hope, the first step toward mending the fracture that had formed between you. She knew she had gone too far, that her words had cut deeper than she had intended. And as she stood there, shivering from the cold and the weight of her own realization, you saw the truth of what Silco had said: she was growing up, finding her own path.

You held her tighter, the warmth of her body seeping into your cold, hardened heart. "You never will," you murmured, your voice a gentle promise. "You're more than just a weapon, Jinx. You're... everything." The words slipped out, a declaration of the love you had never truly allowed yourself to acknowledge.

You felt her relax into your embrace, her shoulders dropping as the tension drained from her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I just wanted to be like you, to be strong." Her admission was a knife that twisted in your heart, a reminder of the fine line you had been walking as her mentor.

You pulled back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with your thumb. "You are strong, Jinx," you said, your voice firm. "But strength isn't about rushing into every fight. It's about knowing when to stand your ground, and when to wait." You searched her eyes, looking for the spark of understanding, the light that would tell you she heard you.

Her eyes searched yours, the neon glow of the bar light playing across the wet planes of her face. "I'll try," she said, her voice small and hopeful. "I promise." And in that moment, you knew that you couldn't leave her, not now, not ever. You had made a promise to yourself, to Silco, and to the city, but most importantly, to her.

Three days of silence had felt like an eternity.

You had avoided the fortress, not ready to face the man who had questioned your place in his world. But the call had come, a summons that couldn't be ignored.

Twice you had been sent for, and twice you had ignored it. It was only when the third message arrived, the tone more insistent, that you knew you had to face him.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You had spent the last seventy-two hours thinking of every sharp word, every accusation you wanted to hurl at him.

But as you approached the doors to his office, you realized that anger was a blunt instrument. What you needed now was precision, the scalpel of wit and truth.

You were dragged before him, not literally but by the weight of the words you had left unsaid. His eyes searched yours, a mix of anger and something else, something you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down. You had been waiting for this moment, had been waiting to make him understand.

"You owe me an apology," you said, the words cutting through the silence like a knife. Silco's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he took a puff of his cigar, the smoke curling around him like a serpent.

"For what?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.

"For questioning me," you said, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. "For making me feel like I'm nothing to you or Jinx." The room was a battleground, and you had drawn your line in the sand. You had come to his fortress not as a supplicant, but as a warrior demanding respect.

Silco's gaze never left yours, the unspoken challenge in his eyes making your blood boil. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said finally, the words a concession but not the apology you sought. "But you need to understand, she's not a child anymore." The anger in your heart was a living, breathing creature now, a beast that demanded to be heard.

"And what about me?" you shot back, the fire in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar between his fingers. "What am I to you?" The question hung in the air, a silent challenge that demanded an answer. Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers burning bright.

"You're... important," he said, the word a grudging admission. "But I can't have you putting her in harm's way because you're afraid to let go." His voice was firm, the finality of it a slap in the face. But you weren't about to let him off the hook.

"And what if I'm not afraid of her growing up?" you retorted, your voice rising. "What if I'm afraid of losing her, of losing what we've built together?" The words echoed off the walls, a declaration of the fear that had been festering in your heart for so long.

Silco leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning beneath his weight. "Is that what you think?" he said, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "That I don't care about what happens to her?"

You stepped closer, the heat of your fury warming the cold, sterile room. "It's what you make me feel," you said, your voice trembling. "Every time you push her into danger, every time you treat me like I'm disposable." The words were a knife to the heart, the pain of his indifference a fresh wound that had yet to scab over.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the embers of his cigar casting a warm, orange glow across his face. "You're not disposable," he said, the words a whisper. "But you have to understand, this is bigger than us." His hand reached out, the gesture almost tender, but you stepped back, the space between you a yawning chasm.

"Bigger than us?" you spat. "Is that all I am to you? Just a pawn to be moved around on your board?" The rage was a living, breathing thing now, a storm that threatened to consume you both. His silence was a knife twisting in your gut, a silent confirmation of your fears.

"I've given you everything," you said, the words ripped from your chest. "Every part of me, and for what? To be nothing more than a tool to you?"

The accusation hung in the air, a toxic cloud that choked the very essence of your relationship. Silco's eyes remained on you, unwavering, as if he could bore through your skull with his gaze alone.

"I've bled for you," you continued, the anger a living flame in your voice. "I've killed for you, loved for you, and what do I get in return? To be treated like I'm disposable?" The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's silence was a wall, impenetrable and cold.

"Do you even know what love is?" you demanded, your voice cracking with the weight of your pain. "Or is it all just power and control to you?" Each word was a dagger thrown at his heart, a challenge to the man who had once been your everything. But now, you weren't so sure.

Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers glowing in the dark. "Love is a luxury we can't afford," he said finally, his voice a harsh whisper. "This city, this war, it doesn't care about love." The room felt colder, the air thick with the bitterness of his words.

The silence between you was a scream, a howl of anger and hurt that echoed through the empty halls of the fortress. You felt the weight of his dismissal, the coldness of his gaze, and for a moment, you weren't sure if you could stand it. But you had come this far, and you weren't going to back down now.

"You don't give a fuck about me," you said, the words a declaration of your pain. "You use me for what I can do, for the power I give you."

The accusation hung in the air, a grenade waiting to explode. Silco's expression didn't change, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

"I've given you everything," you continued, your voice shaking. "My heart, my soul, my body." You paused, the words like a punch to his gut. "And what do I get in return?" You waited for an answer, but he remained silent, the smoke from his cigar the only indication of his breathing.

"I've built a life for you," you said, the anger now a cold, hard knot in your stomach. "I've raised your daughter, for fuck's sake, and this is how you treat me?" You stepped closer to him, the gap between you closing like a vice. "Like I'm nothing more than a whore you can use and discard?"

The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's eyes searched yours, looking for a way out, but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "You don't get to do that," you whispered, your voice a dangerous promise. "You don't get to use me like that."

He took a deep breath, the cigar still clenched between his teeth. "I know you're more than that," he said, the words a begrudging admission. "But this city, this war..." He trailed off, the excuses on his tongue tasting bitter.

"This city, this war," you spat, mimicking his words. "It's always about that, isn't it? It's never about us, about what I've given to you, what I've sacrificed for you!" Your voice echoed through the stark emptiness of the room, each word a hammer blow to the foundation of your relationship.

Silco's expression was a mask, unreadable and unyielding. "You know why I do what I do," he said, his voice low and measured. "You know the stakes." The implication was clear: you were being selfish, thinking only of your own feelings when the fate of the city hung in the balance.

"The stakes?" you scoffed. "What about my stake in this, Silco? What about the love and loyalty I've given you?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for some sign of emotion, some spark of the man you had once loved. But his gaze remained flat, his heart a fortress you hadn't the key to breach.

"You're right," he said finally, the words a cold slap to the face. "You're not just a pawn, you're a queen. A queen who's been playing by the wrong set of rules." His words hung in the air like a noose, the gravity of his admission heavy and suffocating.

You took a step back, the weight of his words pushing you away from him. "So, what now?" you asked, the anger in your voice a whisper of what it had been. "Do we just pretend like nothing's changed?"

Silco's hand reached out to you, the cigar forgotten, his eyes searching yours. "We find a way to move forward," he said, the words a plea and a command. "For Jinx, for the city, for us." But you could see the doubt in his gaze, the fear that maybe the damage was irreparable.

You looked at his outstretched hand, the veins standing out against his pale skin, the dirt beneath his fingernails a testament to the battles he had fought. And for a moment, you wanted to take it, to believe that things could go back to the way they were. But the words stuck in your throat, the anger a living flame that refused to be extinguished.

"How can I trust you?" you whispered, the pain in your voice a living, breathing entity. "How can I believe that you won't just toss me aside again?" The room was a cage, the walls closing in around you, the air thick with the scent of his cigar and the weight

of his silence.

"You have to," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "You're the only one who can reach her, who can teach her the way of the world without breaking her." His hand hovered between you, a bridge over the chasm of your emotions. "I need you." The admission was raw, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to the steel you were used to.

You felt the anger drain from you, replaced by a tired resignation. "Fine," you said, your voice a whisper. "But you need to understand, I won't be a pawn in your games anymore." You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs with the toxic fumes of your anger. "I'm more than just a weapon for you to wield."

Part 2: bc it's long...

Silco nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "You've been more than I could ever ask for." His voice was gruff, the words clearly difficult for him to say. But there was sincerity in his tone, a warmth that you hadn't heard in weeks.

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, the calloused thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You're not just a weapon to me," he said, his gaze searching yours. "You're the heart of this city, the fire that keeps us all fighting." His words were a balm to the wound he had inflicted, a gentle reminder of the respect and admiration he had for you.

"You've given me a reason to believe in something more than just power," he continued, his voice a low rumble. "You've given me hope."

The warmth of his hand was a stark contrast to the coldness of his usual demeanor, the tenderness of his touch a promise that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cold, calculating leader he presented to the world.

You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words. "But I need to hear it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need to hear you say it." The words hung in the air, a silent plea for validation, for the reassurance that you hadn't been a fool for giving him your heart.

Silco took a deep breath, the cigar smoke swirling around him like a mist. "I trust you," he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "With everything I have, with everything I am." His eyes searched yours, the depth of his feelings laid bare. "You're more than just a lover, more than just a mother figure to Jinx."

He paused, the silence stretching between you like a tightrope. "You're my partner," he said finally, the words a declaration that resonated through the room. "My equal in every way that counts." The warmth in his voice was a promise that he saw you as more than just a means to an end, more than just someone to share his bed and his battles.

"You're the one who understands me," he went on, his thumb still tracing the line of your jaw. "You see the man beneath the monster, and you still choose to stand by my side." His eyes searched yours, looking for the flicker of doubt that had been festering in your heart. "I need you," he said again, the words a lifeline thrown into the stormy sea of your emotions.

"You're the smartest, most capable person I know," he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your shoulder. "You've kept me sane in this insane world we live in." The praise was like a balm to your bruised ego, the recognition of your worth a salve to the wounds he had unknowingly inflicted.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words heavy with regret. "I should have realized sooner what you needed, what we both needed." His eyes searched yours, looking for a spark of forgiveness. "But I'm here now," he added, his voice a gentle promise. "And I'll do everything in my power to make it right."

The silence was a living, breathing thing in the room, a creature that fed on your doubt and anger. But as you looked into Silco's eyes, you could see the truth there, the raw regret that he had kept hidden behind his armor of power and control.

"I'm sorry," he said again, the words a whisper that seemed to echo off the cold, stone walls. "I didn't realize what you needed from me."

His hand slid down to yours, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your bones. "I've been so focused on the war, on keeping this city alive, that I forgot what it was I was fighting for." His grip tightened, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive. "You've been here, by my side, and I've taken you for granted."

You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of anger and pain that had been building for weeks. "You didn't just not realize," you said, your voice shaking. "You didn't even care." The accusation was a dagger thrown, aimed straight at his heart.

Silco flinched, the pain in your voice a blow he hadn't been prepared for. "That's not true," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I've always cared, more than you know." He stepped closer, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "I just didn't know how to show it."

His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign that he had reached you, that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. "But I see it now," he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "I see what you've been trying to tell me, and I'm sorry for being so blind." The room was a cocoon of regret, the air thick with the weight of his words.

"I'm sorry for treating you like you're disposable," he continued, his voice a rough whisper. "For not seeing what was right in front of me." His hand slid to the back of your neck, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. "You're not just a weapon, you're the soul of this city."

You felt the weight of his apology, the gravity of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness.

"But I've been so focused on winning, on keeping this city from falling apart, that I lost sight of what's truly important." His grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. "You're what's important."

The room was a prison, the silence a living creature that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. The rain outside had stopped, the only sound the distant echo of the city's heartbeat. You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his apology. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the man you had fallen in love with, not the monster he had become.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, the words a prayer. "I should have been there for you, should have noticed what you needed." His eyes searched yours, a silent plea for understanding. "I got lost in the chaos, in the need to survive." His thumb stroked your cheek, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine. "I've been so focused on keeping the city standing that I forgot to look at the woman holding it up."

You nodded, the gesture almost imperceptible. It was a start, a crack in the wall of anger you had built around your heart. "I know," you said, your voice a whisper. "But I need you to understand, Sil." Your eyes met his, the depth of your emotions a raging river. "I'm not just a weapon to be used, not just a body to be shared." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the lines that had been crossed.

"I've missed you," he murmured, his hand moving to cradle your face. "More than I can say." The raw honesty in his voice was like a warm embrace, a promise that he would try to be better. You felt a softening in your chest, the ice around your heart beginning to melt. "Can I make it up to you?" he asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, the first glimmer of hope breaking through the storm. "We'll start with talking," you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of emotion. "Really talking, not just about missions and strategy." You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his skin a comfort. "I need you to see me, all of me." The vulnerability in your eyes was a silent demand for the connection that had been lost.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the question clear. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You took a deep breath, the words a declaration of what you needed. "I want you to be present," you said, the words a whisper. "To listen, to care, to be the man I know you can be." The room was a bubble, the outside world forgotten as you waited for his response.

"I'll do better," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with conviction. "For you, for Jinx, for us." His hand slid down from your face to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer until your chests met. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you like a river retreating from the shore. His grip tightened, his other hand sliding around to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was at once gentle and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips in a silent question.

You opened for him, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed your body, a silent apology for the weeks of neglect. His thumb brushed the pulse point at the base of your neck, the pressure of his touch a reminder of the power he held. But in this moment, you were the one in control, the one dictating the terms of their reconciliation.

Silco's kiss grew more insistent, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you, a testament to his desire. But you didn't yield immediately, instead pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You have to mean it," you murmured, the words a warning and a promise.

He nodded, the seriousness in his gaze unmistakable. "I do," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you." His hands slid down to grip your waist, his touch a silent promise. You felt your resolve waver, the anger giving way to something softer, something more vulnerable.

You leaned into him, the kiss deepening as his hands moved to your back, pressing you closer. His touch was a brand, a claim that you hadn't felt in so long, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the tension in his body, the need to prove himself to you, to show you that he was more than just a monster.

Silco's hands roamed lower, cupping your ass, and you gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his desk, the wood cool against your skin. His kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, a silent vow to never let you go again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the heat of his body searing through your clothes.

You felt his hands slip under your shirt, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of your lower back. A shiver of pleasure rippled through you as his touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before unhooking it with a practiced ease. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside to reveal your naked breasts to the warm air.

His eyes devoured you, the hunger in his gaze sending a bolt of desire straight to your core. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, and you moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. His mouth moved lower, kissing and biting along your collarbone, his hands now working on the buttons of your pants.

As he pushed them down, you could feel the wetness between your legs, the ache of need that had been building since you saw him standing there, so strong and sure of himself. But now, in this moment, you knew he was yours, that he needed you just as much as you needed him.

The sound of your pants hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room, the only other noise the heavy thud of your hearts beating in sync. Silco stepped back for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, exposed and willing. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with a mix of desire and determination, before his hands returned to your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. His thumbs traced the insides of your thighs, the gentle pressure guiding you wider. "Every inch of you, so perfect." His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his mouth capturing your earlobe in a gentle nip that had you gasping. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, the words lost in the wave of sensation that flooded you as he began to kiss his way down your body. His mouth was a brand, leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. Each touch was deliberate, each caress a silent promise to never take you for granted again. His hands were firm, his touch sure as he explored you, his thumbs teasing your inner thighs.

"I'm going to make this good for you," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent your pulse racing. "I'm going to show you how much you mean to me." His mouth found your center, his tongue delving into your folds with a gentle insistence that had you arching your back. His eyes remained on yours, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every gasp that tore from your lips.

As he tasted you, Silco's hands moved to your hips, his grip firm as he guided your movements, setting the rhythm of your hips against his face. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "So perfect." His tongue circled your clit, the touch light and teasing, building the tension within you until you were trembling.

You felt your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palm, the pain a welcome distraction from the pleasure that was threatening to consume you. "Sil," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive as his tongue swiped from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Let me taste you, let me make you feel good." His tongue delved deeper, the wet heat of his mouth surrounding you, the pressure building until you were sure you would shatter. He knew just how to touch you, how to make you come apart in his arms.

His thumbs stroked the insides of your thighs, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the fervent kisses he was placing along your slit. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, the words a warm breath against your sensitive flesh. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, but also with a gentle concern that made your heart ache. "I'm going to make you come so hard, sweets.”

With a flick of his tongue, he swiped from your entrance to your clit, the suddenness making you gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a spark that ignited the fire that had been smoldering within you for weeks.

His eyes never left yours, watching for every twitch of your body, every gasp that slipped past your lips. His touch was both dominant and tender, his mouth moving with a confidence that left no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what he was doing.

He dipped his tongue in again, this time lingering just a second longer before pulling away, drawing a long, low moan from you that you quickly muffled with your hand. The sound of your pleasure seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding.

His thumbs slid up to press against your clit, his tongue delving deep into your wetness, filling you up before retreating again. The rhythm was a symphony of sensation, a dance that you had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.

Silco's eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire reflecting the flickering candlelight. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "So perfect, gods I’ve fucking missed you." His thumbs began to rub circles around your clit, the gentle pressure building the tension that had you teetering on the edge of release. His tongue swiped through your folds, tasting you, savoring you as if you were the sweetest delicacy.

"Silco," you whispered, your voice trembling with need as he focused his attention on your clit, swirling and flicking his tongue with a finesse that had your eyes rolling back in your head. Each stroke was a declaration of his intent, a promise to never let you feel unwanted again. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you in place, urging you closer to the brink.

He slipped two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. His eyes remained locked on yours, watching as your pupils dilated with pleasure. "So tight," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "So fucking perfect."

He curled his fingers, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His thumb circled your clit before using his mouth again, the pressure building until you thought you might scream.

Silco's tongue was a masterful tool, flicking and swirling around your clit, driving you wild. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built. His movements deliberate and focused, as if he was memorizing every twitch of your body, every gasp that escaped your lips.

He added a third finger, the stretch making you squirm on the desk. "You're so wet for me," he said, his voice a low purr that made your toes curl. "So fucking wet." His eyes searched yours, watching as the pleasure built, the tension in your body tightening like a coil ready to snap. His mouth moved to your clit again, the gentle sucking sending shockwaves through your body.

You felt your orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly. "please," you moaned, your hand moving to his hair to tug him closer.

He took the hint, his mouth closing around your clit, the suction a delicious pressure that had you biting down on your hand to keep from screaming. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, the sensation making your legs shake.

He was relentless, his tongue swiping and teasing, his fingers curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you on the edge. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire and love a lifeline in the storm of sensation. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a demand that you couldn't refuse. "Let go."

And so you did, your body arching off the desk as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. The sound of your muffled cries filled the room, your nails digging into the desk as you held on for dear life.

Silco's eyes remained on yours, the intensity in his gaze never wavering as he watched you come apart in his arms. He didn't stop, his mouth and fingers working in harmony to draw out every last ounce of pleasure, his praise a gentle breeze that soothed your ragged soul.

"So beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his tongue lapping up the last of your release. He kissed a path back up to your mouth, his kisses gentle and reverent, a silent apology for the weeks of pain he had caused. His hands slid up to cradle your face, the warmth of his palms a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. "You're mine," he whispered, the words a vow that seemed to echo in the air.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you as his lips moved to kiss away the tears that had begun to fall. "I know," you murmured, your voice still shaky with aftershocks of pleasure. "But you have to be mine too." The words were a soft demand, a reminder that this was a two-way street.

Silco nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I am," he said, his voice a low rumble. "And I will be." His hands moved to unbuckle his pants, his cock springing free, hard and demanding. "I need you," he said, the words a desperate plea. "All of you."

He stepped closer, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice a velvet whip that had you meeting his gaze. "I want to see you when I fuck you." His eyes searched yours, looking for the consent that you willingly gave.

With a slow, deliberate move, he pushed into you, the feel of him stretching you deliciously. "

You felt your eyes widen, the pleasure a stark contrast to the ache of his earlier touch. "Look at me," he murmured again, his voice a gentle command. "Let me see you." He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep, his eyes never leaving yours.

Silco's hips rolled into yours, each stroke a declaration of his dominance, his need for you. His eyes searched yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel seen in a way you hadn't in weeks. His hands moved to grip your shoulders, the pressure grounding you as the world swirled around you.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck, the gentle bite a promise of more to come. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a soft purr. You nodded, the words lost in a moan that you couldn't hold back. His hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing in gentle circles that had your hips rising to meet his. "Good," he murmured, his voice a warm breath against your skin. "So good for me, love." His praises were a balm to your soul, the words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Silco's hips rolled in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock stretching you open, filling you completely. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire a stark contrast to the tender way he touched you.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a thrill of pleasure through you. His thumb circled your clit, his movements deliberate and precise, each touch a silent declaration of his dominance. "And I'm going to show you just how much."

You felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure too intense to bear. "No. Look at me," he said, his voice a gentle command that had your eyes snapping open. His gaze was a brand, a promise that he would never let you go again. "I want to see you come for me," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "Let go, baby."

The praises fell from his lips like sweet nothings, each word a caress that had you writhing beneath him. "You're so tight," he said, his voice thick with need. "So wet." His hips picked up the pace, the slap of skin against skin the only sound in the quiet room. "You're perfect."

He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue claiming your mouth as his cock claimed your body. His hands roamed your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. "So beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking beautiful."

You felt yourself rising to meet him, your body responding to his every command. Your hips moved in a silent dance, the slickness of your arousal a testament to his skill. "Yes," he growled, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it."

Your moans grew louder, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of need. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "You like when I fill you up?"

You nodded, unable to form words as the pleasure built within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might shatter. "Tell me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Tell me how good it feels."

"So good," you gasped, your voice a desperate whisper. "So... fucking... good." The words were a chant, a mantra that matched the beat of his hips. His grip on your shoulders tightened, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark seduction that had you spiraling out of control.

And then you were there, the orgasm ripping through you like a storm. Your nails dug into his back as you screamed his name, your body arching off the desk as the waves of pleasure consumed you. Silco's eyes never left yours, his gaze a lifeline as you fell apart in his arms.

He watched you come down, his hips still moving, the rhythm never faltering. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a soft growl. "Mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to cherish." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that was burning in his chest.

Silco's grip tightened, his thrusts growing more demanding, his need for release an unspoken command. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. "Look at me while I come. Look at me sweetness." Your eyes snapped open, the intensity in his gaze like a brand on your soul. His movements grew wilder, his cock slamming into you with an urgency that had you gripping the desk for purchase.

His hips snapped against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh a symphony of desire. "You feel so good," he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice was a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the power he held over your body. You felt the tension in his muscles, the way his jaw clenched as he held back, trying to make it last.

But the need was too strong, the hunger too great. Silco lost control, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Fuck," he growled, his eyes going dark. "You're going to make me come." And with that, he let go, his cock pumping into you with a ferocity that had you gasping for breath.

You felt his climax, the hot spurts of his release filling you up. His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent roar as he came, his body shuddering with the force of it. For a moment, he remained still, his cock buried deep within you, his breathing heavy and erratic.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the storm passed, leaving you both panting and trembling in the aftermath. Silco's eyes snapped open, the pupils dilated and wild. His grip on your hips was bruising, his breaths hot and ragged against your neck. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own need.

He pulled out of you, the sensation of emptiness making you whine in protest. But he wasn't done yet. With a growl that was more animal than man, he flipped you over, your palms flat on the desk. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you to meet his renewed erection. "Again," he demanded, his voice a desperate plea. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please."

Without a word, you pushed back, feeling him slide into you with a slick ease that had you gasping. His hips slammed into you, each thrust a punctuation to the silent conversation of your bodies. The desk creaked beneath your combined weight, the wood groaning in protest as you moved together in a dance as old as time.

Silco's hands were everywhere, gripping and caressing, his fingers digging into your flesh as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his arms and back rippling with every thrust. His breath was hot and ragged in your ear, his hips slamming into you with a ferocity that sent shockwaves through your core. The desk beneath you trembled with the force of his passion, the wood protesting with each punishing movement.

You moaned, your body moving in time with his, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. The sound was primal, a declaration of his dominance that had your inner walls clenching around him. "Sil," you whispered, your voice a plea for more. He responded with a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you deeper.

You felt his cock swell within you, the pressure building until it was almost too much to bear. His movements grew erratic, his need for release palpable. His eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he fought for control. But the dam was breaking, the intensity of your combined passion too great to hold back.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Silco lost control. His hips slammed into you, his cock plunging into your depths with a force that had you screaming. Each thrust was a declaration of his need, his desperation to claim you, to mark you as his. His eyes were wild, the pupils blown with lust as he watched your body take him in, your walls clenching around his length in a vice-like grip that had him groaning with pleasure.

The desk beneath you creaked and groaned with each powerful thrust, the wood bending and flexing beneath the onslaught of your passion. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving bruises that would serve as a reminder of this moment for days to come. His breath was ragged, his teeth gritted as he fought against the tide of his own desire. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, needy sounds of your union echoing off the walls.

"You're mine," Silco grunted, his voice a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine. "All fucking mine." His eyes never left you, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every twitch of your body as he drove into you. "You're going to come for me," he growled, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that had you panting for more. "You're going to scream for when you come."

He reached around, his hand finding your clit, his thumb rubbing in tight, fast circles that had you gasping for air. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a dark command that resonated through your entire being. "Now." Your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning, making your vision white out as you felt yourself squirt slightly, soaking the desk beneath you.

Silco's eyes were glued to the sight, the hunger in them unmistakable. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and possessiveness. "You're so beautiful when you come." His praise was intoxicating, the words wrapping around your thoughts and clouding your mind.

With each stroke of his thumb, your body trembled, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. "Sil," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sil, I can't." But you could, and you did, your body betraying you as it responded to his touch, his voice. His grip on your hips tightened, his cock slamming into you without mercy as he chased his own release.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice a gentle reminder of your place in his world. "Mine to fuck, mine to cherish." The words were like a drug, seeping into your veins and filling you with warmth. You felt yourself tighten around him, your muscles spasming as another orgasm began to build. "Yes," he hissed, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it. Take it all."

The room was a blur, the only thing in focus the feel of Silco's cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his tone a promise. "I'm going to make you come so hard you won't be able to walk." His thumb pressed harder, his movements faster, the pressure building until you thought you might burst.

With a final, desperate moan, you did, your body spasming around him as you squirted once more. The feeling was indescribable, the sensation of your release coating the desk beneath you, a testament to his power over your body. His grip tightened, his hips moving faster as he claimed your body, his own orgasm close at hand.

You felt him swell, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, his seed filling you to the brim. His roar of pleasure was a sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, a declaration of his triumph. You collapsed against the desk, your body trembling, your heart racing as the aftershocks of your climax washed over you.

He didn't pull out immediately, instead staying inside you, his cock still twitching as he caught his breath. His hand moved from your clit to your waist, holding you in place as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a gentle caress that had you trembling. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Soaking wet for me, your cunt clenching around me."

Slowly, oh so slowly, Silco withdrew, the emptiness making you whimper. You felt the warmth of his release spill out of you, painting the desk with your combined pleasure.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but still holding a hint of the dominant beast that had just claimed you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of distress, the softness of his gaze a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

Your legs wobbled as he helped you to the couch, his strong arms supporting your weight as you sank into the leather. You nodded, unable to form words as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to pulse through your body. He sat beside you, his hand caressing your cheek as he studied you with an intensity that made your heart race.

Leaning in, Silco captured your mouth in a kiss that was as soft as it was demanding, a declaration of his ownership that had you melting into him. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a gentle dominance that had you craving more. His other hand slid down your body, tracing the path of your curves with a possessive fondness that had you shivering.

He pulled back, a smug smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were a mess, your clothes in disarray, your makeup smeared, and your hair a wild mess around your flushed face. But to Silco, you were the most beautiful creature in the world.

He leaned back, his eyes traveling down to the mess between your legs. The evidence of his dominance was clear, a slick mess that had your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and pride.

With a gentle touch, he wiped a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb lingering on your skin. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the beast he had been moments ago. "For everything." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that he knew was reflected in his own gaze.

You nodded, the fight from earlier forgotten in the wake of the passion that had just swept through you. "I know," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. "And I'm sorry too." The words were a balm to the wounds that had been festering between you. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you were on the same page, like you were a team.

Silco leaned in, his kiss gentle, almost chaste, but no less powerful for it. "Let's go home," he whispered, his voice a promise of warmth and comfort. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. Together, you gathered your clothes, the silence in the room thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

But as you stepped into the rain-soaked streets, you felt something shift. The storm outside matched the one that had just passed between you, but now there was a sense of calm in the aftermath.

Hand in hand, you walked through the city, the neon lights reflecting off the slick pavement. The rain had let up, leaving only a gentle drizzle that seemed to cleanse the air around you. Silco's grip was firm, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, the storm of emotions from earlier dissipating like the rain.

You stepped into the penthouse, the warmth of the building a stark contrast to the cold outside. The silence was a balm to your ears, the only sound the steady beat of your hearts. Silco led you to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours. As he helped you into bed, the softness of the sheets was a comfort that seemed to melt the tension from your muscles.

He slid in beside you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. His chest was a wall of warmth, his heart a steady rhythm beneath your ear. "We'll figure this out," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble. "Together."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words in your bones. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were united, a force to be reckoned with. The city outside was a canvas waiting for you to paint your love and anger upon it.

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aphrmoosun · 1 year ago

Text

[No words]

NOMAE ; Two Shot!

• Pair.

Noa and Mae

• Movie.

Kingdom of the planet of the apes

• Tags.

NoaxMae, yes it is a ship, dont read if you dont ship them, smutt, au, future, humans and apes politics, ape and human relation, Noa is an inocent ape, twoshot, relationship, Interspecies, strong language, honour apes, writer is not English native speaker, if you see errors tell me, etc

• Other Nomae fic.

You and Me

• Sipnosis.

Noa and the Beast

Apes and humans lived in peace for more than half a century, the war only brought internal conflicts between the sides and although peace was the later consequence, they finally lived together and peacefully.

But it was still not well seen that humans and apes had relationships, each one lived in their area, both separated by borders and policies.

Noa son of the leader of the eagle clan. And Mae daughter of an important senator. Ape and human had set their eyes on each other, unable to ignore the other's presence when they saw each other. The tension between the two ends in a nighttime escapade with consequences for the future.

DO NOT COPY OR SHARE IT ELSEWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION!

• No words [One shot]

Mae didn't like participating in her father's political campaigns. More than anything because she always ended up in the middle, like a piece of meat.

She was just grateful that her father always defended her and never left her hanging, but the suitors always surrounded her, eager to get close to the senator's daughter from the southern zone.

That first day, she had to accompany her father to a dinner with the Eagle Clan. A friendly clan that always worked alongside humans.

Mae sat quietly in her seat, trying not to draw attention to herself. She didn't have the same tension as with other human politicians who tried to pair her up with one of their sons at every opportunity.

No, there she only observed Noa, the son of the Eagle Clan's leader. He also looked back at her.

They didn't need many words; they never did. Whenever they saw each other, their relationship was one of glances, smiles, and even touches.

Mae didn't know if Noa caught her attention because he was different from the others or because he was the only one his father didn't try to pair her up with.

That was simple. Neither the senator nor the clan leader understood that humans and apes could have a relationship beyond politics. For both humans and apes parents, humans and apes could coexist with boundaries and each in their own place.

None of them realized that their children understood that humans and apes could have a much more... intimate relationship.

That dinner passed quietly. Except for a surprise at the moment of saying goodbye. Noa this time bid her farewell with a hug.

No one seemed to pay attention, and if they did, they didn't say anything. Nor did it interest either of them. Mae was too comfortable in his arms, and Noa was too busy feeling the small, soft, peculiarly scented human in his arms.

When they separated, their eyes met again. Neither of them knew why their bodies reacted so intensely.

They didn't need words.

________-------------------_________

That night, Mae went out of her hotel room for a walk. She was sure the place was quiet and guarded, since politicians and leaders from all states had gathered there.

She was sure, yes. But she got a little scared when she heard footsteps behind her.

"What are you doing alone at night here?"

It almost cost her to recognize that voice. When she turned her head to see the ape standing beside her, she sighed in relief.

"I was taking a walk."

"You can't go out at night without company. You know there are apes who still have trouble coexisting with you humans."

Mae let out a laugh.

"Well, for that, there are apes like you who feel very comfortable with humans, and even dare to hug them in front of everyone."

The human couldn't appreciate the blush that appeared on the ape's cheeks.

"Not only do I feel comfortable. I like humans."

"What? Is it a fetish of yours? Having them all at your feet? Am I just one more?"

Noa stopped, making her stop too.

"You're the only one."

Now it was her turn to blush. But this time, Noa could see her, because the moonlight reflected off her face and eyes.

Mae coughed a little, turning her head to the right, unable to bear his gaze.

Many times they had looked into each other's eyes, smiled, touched, and hugged, but never had Noa's eyes shone like that.

"Am I the only one?"

Noa's voice brought her back to reality.

"What do you mean, the only one?"

Noa took her hand, leading her to a more secluded spot.

If someone saw them together, they might think the worst. Noa leading her by the hand in the darkness of the night towards an empty corner of the hotel building.

Once Noa found the perfect spot, he leaned her against the wall and pressed his body against hers.

Mae could feel the strong, muscular ape body against hers.

He went back to hugging her, bringing their faces very close together.

"The only one you feel like this."

Noa kissed her ear and neck.

"Noa."

"What do you mean Noa?"

Mae felt stupid. Of course, she felt the same way. But there were too many obstacles between them.

"This is wrong."

"Does it feel wrong?"

Of course, Mae didn't respond.

Noa was attacking her weak points, kissing her neck and, in a moment when Mae wasn't paying attention, had slipped a hand into her underwear to touch her most intimate parts with curiosity and passion.

Now it was Mae's turn to protest for the ape to touch her the way she wanted.

"Shh." Noa whispered. "We might be overheard."

Without making her wait too long, the simian's long fingers began to caress her clitoris. The other hand went to her buttocks to help her stay just as he wanted. His mouth continued with what he had left pending, mimicking the human's breasts with kisses, licks, and nibbles.

"Noa, please."

Mae felt too close to climax. Her legs trembled, and her lower abdomen electrified with the energy that coursed from her clitoris to her head. Noa's fingers moved faster, like a cable that made the energy pass through him to her.

"Noa!"

Mae came with that cry, clinging to the ape's shoulders, unable to achieve her goal, and ended up sitting astride him.

Her breasts still rose and fell, struggling to breathe normally.

Their eyes met, and they maintained silence, gazing at each other.

Noa raised a hand to the girl's cheek, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen forward, and left his hand there to continue caressing her.

Mae sighed.

"Did you like it?"

Noa asked uncertainly.

Mae laughed.

"Are you asking me that after I just came on top of you after giving me an orgasm?"

"An orgasm? Is that what you humans call it?"

"What? And what do you apes call it?"

"We don't call it. Females rarely have ongasms."

"Orgasms." -Mae corrected, laughing.-

"Whatever. Males usually care more about reproducing than about the female's pleasure."

"Seeing it that way, humans are very similar to apes." -Mae realized something before continuing.- "But then, how did you know how to touch me like that?"

Now it was Noa who looked away, embarrassed.

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does!" -Mae insisted.-

"And I... I saw some material before I met you."

Mae was very confused by the two confessions.

"Why did you care so much about me?" -the human stopped.- "What material!?"

"Because I like you. I thought it was obvious." -Noa responded in order to her questions.- "And material... visual."

"Have you seen porn?"

"Is that what it's called?"

Mae didn't know what was the strangest of all. That Noa seemed so innocent after touching her in a not-so-innocent way, that apes didn't have terms like orgasm or porn, or that Noa had seen porn to know how to please her.

Mae burst out laughing.

"Mae!" -with one hand, Noa tried to silence her.- "Seriously, we might be overheard."

"I don't know why you thought you needed to please me like that before, like, talking to me or asking me out on a date and eating ice cream."

"What's ice cream?"

"What?"

Noa silenced her again with his hand.

"Don't you know what ice cream is?"

Mae asked in a lower tone, and he shook his head.

"We need to fix that."

Mae got up quickly.

"Wait, Mae." -Noa held her hand.- "You haven't answered me."

"What?" -the human realized.- "Oh, yes, I also like you. I thought it was obvious." -she imitated the simian's words.-

"I'm going to ask your father for your hand!"

"What?"

Noa seemed very sure. He got up and was determined to seek out the senator.

"No, wait Noa." -Mae stopped him.- "We need to think this through calmly. We don't know how they'll react."

The ape shook his head.

"I don't care. I only want you."

Mae blushed and looked away, remembering something.

"Noa." -she stopped him again.- "But how are you going to go like that?"

The human pointed to the ape's large erection. Because they were used to not wearing clothes, she could see it clearly in the moonlight. Long, erect, almost covered with hair. And Mae wondered how it would feel in her hands or inside her. If it would be soft and hard at the same time.

Noa, who had also looked down, turned away, embarrassed.

"You're right. Maybe it's not the best moment."

"You don't have to be embarrassed! On the contrary, I owe you an orgasm."

"No, we can't do anything, I don't want to do it inside you without engagement."

Mae was surprised by his response. The way he cared for her, not just physically but also her honor. For humans, physical contact went beyond just hugs, many reached marriage with three or four lovers, and women didn't wait for marriage either.

Those traditions of loyalty, fidelity, and union concept were something to envy. Apes might not marry for passion or taste, but for a bond much more important than the physical.

And Noa wanted to share that with her. It reminded the human that they did it because the ape believed she liked it. And of course, she did, and his erection showed that he liked it too.

But Mae wasn't going to rush things just for a fling when what Noa offered was indescribable in human words.

"We don't have to do anything." -Mae began, trying to speak softly.- "I could help you without penetrating me, but we can wait for that."

Noa remained silent. He looked at her fixedly and turned his body, letting her see his powerful erection again.

"Mae." -Noa approached her, taking her hands.- "Help me, please."

The power she felt inside her in that moment made the human move without control.

Mae moved her hands down, caressing his chest and grabbing the large penis with both hands when she reached her destination.

Noa followed her gaze, sighing, and Mae shook her head.

"No, look at me."

Noa obeyed, and Mae wrapped her hand around his virility and began to move it up and down while the other carefully caressed the tip from which a liquid was already coming out, wetting her hand and showing her how much the ape liked her touch.

"Mae." -Noa whispered without taking his eyes off her.-

Both remained standing, looking at each other fixedly.

When Mae noticed Noa's restless body, she moved her hands faster, holding onto his phallus more tightly.

"I'm going to... Mae!"

Then Noa closed his eyes and a hot jet of liquid hit the human in her exposed belly.

Noa hugged her tightly while trying to recover his breath.

"Shh, they're going to hear us. Noa." -Mae whispered to the ape, mocking all the times he had told her that.-

The ape laughed between his teeth.

"Mae." -then they looked at each other again in the eyes.- "Thank you."

The human squinted her eyes, unsure why he was thanking her.

Before she could ask, a light pointed at them, startling them.

"What are you doing there?"

The voice of the ape who had found them startled them. Mae with her shirt up, pants down, and underwear wet due to her orgasm but also because of Noa's, which had ended up falling there. And Noa, who still showed enthusiasm in his gaze.

Even so, the ape placed himself in front of the human, covering her nudity towards the other ape.

Second part.

#noa #mae #nomae #noa x mae #fanfics #fics #oneshot #one shot #English #smutt #kotpota #pota #kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #noaxmae #fanfic #two shot #two-shot

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mexxs-blog · 10 days ago

Text

one picture and MANY different thoughts.. 🫠

#rhea ripley #sub!rhearipley #smutt #bottom!rhea #stephanie vaquer #stephanie vaquer/rhea ripley #older woman younger girl #they should hate fuck

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oceansssblue · 6 months ago

Note

Hi I’ve never done a request before, but your writing is really good.

Can you do prompt 7 Snow fight, that becomes ABO smut. Both super chaste, but finally become carnally desperate for each other now that they’re alone. They mark each other.

Alpha Rex, Omega YN.

Sure thing love! I'm honoured to write your first request 🥰 I don't use YN though, so i'll just go for neutral reader instead. Hope that's ok!

Here's a fluffy and spicy ABO Xmas oneshot for you! It took me ages to write so I hope you like it haha.

Xx, Blue.

"HOT AND COLD" – REX / GN READER 🔥💖

WARNINGS: ABO AU, alpha/omega dynamics, sex scene, breeding kink, knotting and marking and other general omegaverse things.

Life Day couldn't have caught the 501st in a better place. They had just finished a relief mision on Xerak; and stopped to refuel in Asaca IV in their way back to Coruscant. Seeing as they weren't going to be in time to spend Life Day in the Capital –much to Anakin's chagrin–, the General had decided to make a night-stop at Asaca. And he might have been dissapointed for not being able to share the festivities with a certain senator; but the 501st were ecstatic to enjoy some free time in the icy planet –a very appropiate scenery for the circumstances–.

The young Jedi had retired for the afternoon –perhaps in an attempt to catch Padme on a quick holo-call at least–; and Rex had given his men leeway as well. After an exhausting one-week long mision –with surprisingly minimal casualties–, everyone deserved to rest.

Torrent hadn't wanted to miss the oportunity, though; and after a quick nap in the cruiser, they had all but ran down the ramp to have their share of fun in the snow. With the purpose of playing a little snowfight, Rex had been recluted as well; assigned to be one of the team's captain –it couldn't have been any other way– while the Domino's took charge of the other. Some of the natborns –medics, intelligence officers, maintenance staff, etc.– had asked to join them; and that had been the tragic end for Rex's focus, for you had decided to participate as well.

Out in the battlefield, the captain had no problem on shutting his desires down and pushing his –possesive– dangerous thoughts away. You were tucked away in the safety of the cruiser, after all, carefully analysing the 501st's advances and quickly finding out alternatives to their course of action and any other problem that may had arrised with the rest of Intelligence; but here, here... Rex couldn't help but be atuned to every single thing about you. Each innocent movement, each twitch of your facial expresion. How excruciatingly sweet you smelled even with a dose of scent blockers carefully coating a protective layer over your neck glands. He wanted you so – bad.

It was unfair, really, how unbeliavably pretty you looked in your winter uniform; a basic military set shouldn't have looked that good on anyone. He was used to seing you in dark green –not that you weren't hot in that either–; but the nats snow uniform was a combination of white's and blue's, and it was such a similar palette to the 501st's colours that something inside of him rumbled in passionate aproval. You weren't just cute, though; for all you looked innocent and naive with your cheeks and nose flushed pink from the cold, Rex knew the truth was very different. He had been able to watch how your mind worked in more than one tactical meeting; and kark, wasn't intelligence sexy. There was no doubt why you were Admiral Yularen's second hand –even if you were younger than most–.

Some part of Rex wished you had joined his team; but the other one rejoiced at the oportunity to see you fight. To feel that quiet fire directed at him. You were an omega, yes; but you weren't fearful nor meek, and he loved that about you. It couldn't be easy to be constantly surrounded by a majority of alphas and their often contradicting and agressive feromones; and yet you handled it stoically and beautifully.

Perhaps Rex was too excited for a simple friendly snowfight –he chuckled at the thought, dodging Jesse's snowball and laughing his ass off when Hardcase answered with one that hit him straight in the nose–; but he couldn't help it. He had felt attracted to you –liked you, and dare he even say that other big, scary words too – for far too long now; since that time when you had politely brushed his strategical idea aside and offered a better option for an incursion. Rex had observed you in surprise –you were new in the cruiser back then, and he had never heard you intervene before–; and when Admiral Yularen had agreed with you and you had shot him a sheepish, warm smile, Rex knew he was done for.

In the present time, you take revenge for Jesse; throwing a quick succesion of snowballs at Hardcase until you eventually manage to get him. Instead of showing any anger or irritation, though, his vod laughs and pushes a thumb up in the air for you. You shoot the trooper a proud smile, and Rex shakes his head in fond amusement observing the two of you.

Fifteen minutes later, the captain is proud to say he is soldiering through the little snowfight untouched. It's not that his reflexes are nothing special –though they're obviously as good as any other soldier's–; it's just that his men fortunately don't have the same aim with snowballs than with their blasters. Torrent doesn't quite like that, though; so the game shifts and somehow ends up focused around him. The Domino's team new objective is to take a hit at Rex; while the captain's own team double their efforts to protect him. It's kind of ridiculous, and Rex doesn't really want to be the center of attention in this game –as well–; but everyone seems to be laughing and having fun, so he chuckles and let them be.

His team is doing a good job protecting him –hell, Hardcase had even tackled him to save him from a snowball– until you take all of Rex's attention again. Perhaps frustrated at your team's failure, you abandon the improvised barricade the troopers had managed to put together; crawling out of safety and sprinting towards the captain, snowball clutched in hand. Rex eyebrows shoot upwards, instantly worried. This is just a game, yeah, but what the hell are you doing, exposing yourself like that?

This time, his brothers hold no sympathy. Someone points out at you with a warning shout, and the inmediate succesion of snowballs thrown at your way almost makes Rex flinch.

It's impossible for you to dodge all of them. One impacts right against your knee –perhaps with too much strength, he might need to have a chat with his vods about that later–; and it buckles, making you fall and crash against the snow unceremoniously with a pained groan. Rex is helpless to watch as you hit the back of your head in the fall; and he's already half-way towards you before he has even realised it himself.

The game stops, and silence lays heavyly between the two teams; everyone hesitantly worried about you still sprawled in the snow, not attempting to move even if to ask for the fight to stop. Rex can feel his heart trying to beat it's way out of his chest. He drops to his knees besides you, gold brown eyes flickering over every inch of your face; scent unconsciously proyecting fear and worry.

"Mesh'la, are you okay?" He tries not to pannick in front of everyone, but your eyes are closed, and...

You suddenly lurch forward, tackling his towering form to the side and quickly smearing snow on his shocked face with one hand while the other pushes his chest against the ground. You grin widely, proudly sitting on too of him; and Rex is so fucking relieved to see that you're okay that he can't help but join the laughter around him.

You laugh as well, both hands now clutching his chest plate; and Rex takes his revenge rolling the two of you around and trapping you against the snow. You squeal while trying to dodge his hand, the corner of your eyes wrinkling with happiness; but your strength is nothing compared to his, and he manages to smear a big chunk of snow over your face and neck too.

"That was a dirty move" he points out, lips turned up into a little smile.

You grin up at him, relaxing under his body and accepting your fate. You kind of deserve it.

"War is not won without some of those, dear Captain" you sing-song. "You should know".

Rex rolls his eyes –face still amused– and finally pushes his body away from yours, standing up and offering a hand to you. Panting slightly from the snowfight effort, you gladly accept it and pull yourself up to your feet; shooting a smile at him.

You try not to dwell on how good he had felt on top of you. How his body was the perfect size to make you feel small and vulnerable underneath him; how warm he felt even with his armour on, how deliciously heavy. How pleasure had zig-zaged through your legs and spine towards your crotch under the attention of his golden gaze and his overpowering relieved, happy warm scent. Masculine. Strong. Gentle. Safe. Alpha.

Yes, you try not to think about it. And fail.

Rex calls the game off –ignoring Fives' proud "that's our win for sure!"– and everyone makes their way back to the cruiser, chatting happily in little groups and joking around, spirits lifted and in a good mood. He walks by your side, a bit distracted thinking on how fucking sweet you smelled, how right it had felt to have you underneath him and looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. He tries to push that aside and act normal. This is not the time to get hard and indulge in his fantasies. He can do that later; when he's good to grasp his cock in his hand and stroke himself over the edge.

They've barely made it into the main hall when another trooper comments distractedly "mm, smells good in here"; and Rex answers with an involuntary warning growl. The brothers in their inmediate vecinity stop in their tracks, turning towards him in surprise. There has never been a doubt of Rex being an alpha; but he had always managed to control his instincts better than most. For him to react like that... Well, it's certainly unusual.

You push the palm of your hand against the side of your neck, alarmed for both the trooper's comment and Rex's growl –and fuck, didn't that make you wet–; cursing at not feeling the semi-sticky texture of your scent-blocker on top of it. No wonder the clones were able to smell you...

"Officer..." Kix carefully takes a step closer to you, eyeing Rex's dangerous eyes cautiously. "Forgive me for being blunt and intrusive, but if you are in pre-heat I'd sugest for you to go back to your quarters and take a rest".

Get the fuck out of here where there are all but alphas around you, is what you hear, and you nod while blushing in embarassment.

"Y-yeah, I'll do that" you don't bother to correct his statement, not wanting to publicly humiliate yourself any further. "Thank you for your concern, Kix".

The medic nods politely, and Rex inmediately squares up his shoulders next to you.

"I'll walk you to your room" he offers, though his voice holds more finality than anything.

Kix frowns –perhaps worried about your safety– but you give the Captain a short nod and the two of you quietly make your way to your private room.

Stopping outside of your door, Rex clenches his fists and and tries not to let his thoughts linger on the knowledge of you being in pre-heat and all the wonderfull ways he could help you through it. The picture of you suffering in silence, fighting the pain and ache writhing in your bunk, your nest empty and never feeling more vulnerable and lonely that then and there, makes the clone's heart break. He wants to be with you. He wants to tell you how good you had built their nest; make you cum in his tongue until the pain melts away and fuck you in a place where, even if just momentarily, you could both call home.

But he's nothing but a diligent soldier; too polite and respectfull to ask that from you. Too afraid of offending you. Of not being able to see your warm smile directed at him any longer; even if he's only able to enjoy it from a certain distance now. He'd still chose that over nothing at all.

And so Rex swallows every desire –every wish– down and gives you a short nod.

"Take it easy, ma'am" he manages to sound firm and formal. "I'll inform Admiral Yularen that you'll be out of service for a few days for you".

Rex turns around to let you be, struggling to push his instincts aside for much longer; and pannick swells inside of you.

"No!" You impulsively snatch his wrist to stop him, eyes nervously flickering around while you confess in an embarassed whisper. "I'm not... I'm not in pre-heat".

Rex faces you in utter confusion; silently analysing your worried expresion. He breathes your scent in; closing his eyes momentarily and battleling himself. You certainly smell like it. What are you on about?

"But you..." he clears his throat, a small tick in his jaw miraculously being the only external sign of how hard it is to resist to you. "Forgive me, but you certainly smell like it?"

Your cheeks feel on fire. Oh, it is so incredibly embarassing for the reason of your burning desire to point this out out loud to you. You kind of want the floor to swallow you.

You slowly release your hold on him and try to give him a vague explanation.

"It's the snow. You smeared it on my skin and it has washed away the scent blockers, I believe".

Rex frowns.

"That explains why we're able to smell you, but it still..." he hesitates, knowing this is a far from innapropiate conversation to have with anyone, really, and certainly not with you. "That trooper could notice it from meters away with his bucket on. Are you sure your heat isn't around the corner?"

"It's you" you blurt, throwing all caution away.

He's too intelligent to know there's something else going on. And you're out of excuses. Tired of hiding the permanent attraction you have for this handsome, brave man in front of you. The only alpha you've come across that has really made you feel week in the knees. That you'd want to bond with.

"Me?" Rex asks, stunned, unconciously taking a step forward and crowding you against the metal door.

You feel a rush of warmth flowing through you.

"Yes" you swallow your nervousness down, tilting your chin up slightly to look up at him. "You turn me on as quick as a lightsaber ignition whenever you get close to me. And when you holded me under your body out there..."

You pause and confess.

"Captain, this is my body's usual reaction to you, really. You all just haven't noticed because I'm usually quick to hide it under another layer of blockers".

Rex shudders. This is all he has ever asked for. This is the only thing he had ever wanted for himself, the only selfish thing the clone wanted to keep and have in a life of servitude protecting others. Hearing those words coming out of your mouth... Fuck, Rex has never listened to something more beautiful.

"So you want me?" He passionately asks, carefully observing your reaction while he gives in and gently presses you against the door, his body covering yours. "You're telling me that if I wanted to carve myself a place deep inside of you, you'll let me?"

Rex holds your face in his palms, caressing both cheeks with his thumbs reverently, his eyes filled with raw desire and need. His closeness –his words– makes you dizzy with your own. Your breathing grows heavier and your heart speeds up inside your chest.

You can feel the captain's warm breath over your parted lips; almost whispering to you.

"That I could knot you, if I wanted to, right now?"

The image sends a gush of wetness between your legs; and your whole resolve breaks down with the question –the petition, the offer–, an involuntary whimper escaping your throat while you all but impatiently scratch your nails in his shoulder plates.

With just a few words, he has turned you from a controlled, picture-perfect officer to a mess of desire and want.

"Yes" you almost pant. "Yes, fuck, Captain, please".

Rec groans; closing his eyes shut for a few seconds, controlling himself for not to rip your clothes off and fuck you right here and there, out in the corridor where everyone can see you, and tenderly presses his forehead against yours.

One hand goes down to clutch at your squirmy waist. With his other, he thumbs your lower lip.

"If we're going to do this, I don't want titles in here" he finally breathes out, pulling back just enough to lock his eyes on yours. Then, he sort of promises "If you're going to moan something, it's going to be my name".

He searches for an answer in your face; and you inmediately nod wide-eyed, impossibly turned on and excited. You want him to rail you. You want to ravage him.

"Yes, Capt... Yes, Rex".

The way you say his name, so lovingly, so reverent...

Rex slams his hand on the door lock, and gestures you inside with a small, almost defiant tilt of his head.

"Come here, then".

You're not exactly shy –you are confident and sharp most of the time–, but finding yourself completely naked in front of the most handsome man you've ever layed eyes upon, no matter how turned on you are, is not an easy task. You're okay with how you look, with your body; but he's... Outerwordly. His bronze skin, golden brown eyes, trained muscles and strong jaw, war and tenderness mixed in every inch of his body... You bite down onto your bottom lip nervously.

"Are you feeling uncomfortable?" He asks, noticing your hesitance, knees spread from where he's sitting in the edge of your bed –from where he had watched you undress–, naked as well.

You shift your weight from one foot to the other; goosebumps over your skin.

"Not exactly" you answer quietly, shooting him a tiny smile, not really able to explain to him what you're feeling. "Just... Vulnerable".

Rex smiles too; and it's the softest, warmest thing you've had the chance to see on him.

"Fantasy and reality can be quite different. No matter if you've desired this as much as I've done, it's nothing but normal to be a little nervous. Perhaps even scared" he makes a small pause, and after his eyes flicker over every inch of your face, adds just as firmly as he commands in battle. "But I can promiss you are safe with me. I will never disrespect you or treat you unconsiderably. I will listen to you and cherish you just like you deserve".

Warmth blossoms inside your heart. Your eyes blurr. You had thought that Rex only wanted to have fun with you, to enjoy casual, meaningless sex –no matter how good it felt–; but now, after those lovely words and the way he is looking at you, you think that perhaps he wants something else. Something more.

"Come here" he asks again, this time offering his hand to you. "I think you'll feel better skin to skin instead of standing this far away and feeling scrutinized".

You pad forward, and accept his hand with a gentle squeeze. Rex tugs you towards him; and you slowly move to sit down on his lap, his arms inmediately wrapping around your waist.

"You are so beautiful" he murmurs, looking up at you as if he's nothing but enthraced and enamoured with you. "Mesh'la".

You can't help yourself; and you dip down to catch his lips with yours in a quick, heartfelt kiss. I love you, your soul whispers.

Rex hums in delight and answers back with the same passion, deepening the kiss into something sweeter and slower. I love you, he thinks in the safe barriers of his mind.

His warm hands softly travel through your body in a gentle caress; up and down your back, playing with your sides, then slowly dipping forward to brush against a nipple.

You moan quietly in response, growing restless, unconciously starting to move on top of him. Your hands are clasped behind his neck, lips parted in a pleased expresion. You feel sort of powerful, with this strong man patiently sitting under you.

"That's right, beautiful" he hums as he watches you, cheeks starting to flush naturally. "Just enjoy yourself, have your fun on top of me".

His hands tighten on either side of your hips; encouraging you to find more desperate friction against him.

You whimper, feeling his hard cock twitch underneath you; growing more wet as seconds tics by. When you're almost shaking with need and look up at Rex with a clear request on your eyes, he nuzzles his nose against the side of your cheek and asks "Put me inside of you, baby".

You are quick to comply; holding his throbbing cock with one hand while taking a firm hold on his shoulder with the other. Rex stabilises you while you sit down on him; sinking down on his thick, hard cock with a long drawled moan. You close your eyes and concentrate on the feeling; on how good he stretches you and how wonderfull it feels to being filled by him. Full. Your alpha, deep inside of you.

You hum in pleasure,resting your forehead against him; and Rex caresses the sides of your hips tenderly.

"You feel so fucking good, mesh'la" he mumbles, voice hoarse, memorising this moment to come back to it whenever he wants. "So warm and tight".

You kiss him, unable to word your feelings out loud –all coherent thoughts have seemed to dissapeared from your mind, too struck at how good he feels– and slowly start to move your hips in little circles and forward and back on top of him.

Rex groans and holds you tigther against him; half-hugging you to his chest while you take your time riding him. It's... So much. The way his thick cock slides in and out of you is delicious; how you fit around him like a glove. His warm body pressed to yours, the way his hands cling to you, his breath stuttering against your skin... It's what you had wanted and more.

Rex progressively losses himself in you. You look gorgeous on top of him, moaning and whimpering softly and sinking your nails on his shoulders; divided by wanting to hug him closer or fuck yourself faster on his cock. He watches how your face shifts with pleasure and concentration, how your lips part open in a silent gasp. Your scent is floating around him –hot, satiesfied, needy, happy omega–; and he moans, breathing it all in.

The alpha in him growls, pleased with your beautiful compliance but aching to have you underneath him, to being able to properly give you his cock –pump you full, breed you, mark...–; and Rex pants and quickly moves the two of you around. You end up laying on the bed with a quiet gasp; the man inmediately adjusting on top of you and pushing his cock inside of you again.

Your face shifts from surprise to pleasure once more; and you accept him, spreading your legs wider, with a broken moan. Rex answers with a low rumble that pleases your omega in all the right ways and holds the back of your lower thighs with his hands, pushing up under your knees. It folds you further into yourself; allowing him to fuck you deeper, and you can't help but whimper at how good he's doing you. His thrusts are rough and deep, almost punishing you with his strength; but also slow and passionate, personal.

Your gazes lock and you feel so many different things you don't even have the time to sort it through right now. You clench on him, and Rex groans, eyes fluttering shut, fingers digging into your thighs.

He feels his mind growing dizzy; every rational thought blurring together and mixing with his deepest desires. He speeds up, sinking his cock in your wetness and panting from the pleasure and effort; proud at the little gasps, moans and whimpers you answer him with.

Omega. Happy. Omega. Safe. Omega. Needy. Omega. Hot. Omega. Breed. Omega. Love. Omega. Mine. Omega. Mine. Mine. Mine.

The words resonate in his head; and Rex is not completely aware of him echoing them out loud.

"Mine. Mine. Forever. Breed you with my pups. Ours" he's mumbling in a trance. "Omega. Sweet, fierce Omega. Mine, mine, mine".

You feel more wetness gathering inside of you for Rex to coat his cock in; impossibly turned on by the words escaping from his lips. You can tell his alpha's side is getting the best of him; and fuck, aren't you karking glad. You've dreamt about this. About him fucking you, breeding you, claiming you.

Your omega side cries in need and happiness. You're drunk in his pleased, proud, possesive masculine scent.

"Please, please, please..."

You push your head back, arching in the bed and offering him your neck; and Rex moans loudly and dips down to take a long lick on your offered scent glands, swollen and tingly.

You whine, clenching on him; and he mumbles more of his dirty thoughts, mind floating in your sweet scent. In the way you had offered it to him.

"Bite you... Wanna' bite you..." he whispers hoarsely, face hiding in your neck while he continues moving. "Sink my teeth in here and hold you in place while I push my warm cum inside of you..."

"Please, alpha" you finally resort to beg. "Mark me, bite me. Please, Rex".

The clones' hips stutter; the words coming from your lips surely nothing but a fantasy, a spur on the moment thing. But he searches for the truth in your eyes; and in those wide, loving, hopeful eyes, he understands it's nothing but your true wish. Your true desire.

"You want us to bond?" He still manages to ask, nuzzling his nose under your chin affectionately.

"Yes, Rex, please" you caress his sweaty cheek with one hand, eyes blurring with happy tears. "I want you to be my alpha. Just you. Please, Rex, please..."

Rex shuts his eyes, his thrusts growing uncoordinated as his end gets closer.

"My fucking little omega, all mine, mine, mine..." he chants, his hips snapping against yours, the beginning of a knot tugging at your hole. "Gonna' mark you, breed you, knot you..."

You moan and offer your neck to him again, clenching impossibly tighter around him. He whines, and you know he's just as close to cumming as you are.

You cup his face between your hands, and beg him once more, conffident and sure.

"Please, Rex".

And Rex moans, tugs your hair back with one hand and sinks his teeth into your neck, bitting deeply right on your scent glands.

A rush of warmth and pure electrical pleasure zaps through your veins; the bond taking place and tying your hearts together, a mated alpha/omega pair.

Your walls squeeze Rex's cock; and you cum with a cry, the feeling multiplied by his knot growing inside of you. He whines and releases your neck, panting harshly. His hips stutter, and after a few more unstable thrusts he's cuming deep inside of you, filling you with a big load of warm cum. You enjoy every single drop of it; sighing in happiness and relief and swimming in ecstasy at the fresh bite mark on your neck. You can't even focus on the blood or the pain; it's nothing compared to do knowledge of finally being his.

Rex drops his body weight on top of you; a happy, exhausted sigh escaping his lips while he rests his head on your chest. His scent is excited and cheerfull, pleased and overwhelmed; tender and relieved. A hint of guiltiness.

Ignoring how exhausted you are –you're going to need a pair of hours to recover from this–, you move your arms and hug him to your body; legs wrapping around his hips as well so it's easier to not hurt any of you with his knot is still inside of you. You caress his back affectionately, letting him know you're still sure of yourself know that the sex is over and that there's nothing to regret.

Rex pulls his head back slowly and carefully and nuzzles his nose against yours.

"I love you. You were perfect, thank you, I love you".

It's clear his head is still a little fuzzy –as is yours–; and you shoot him a pleased, tired smile, drawing little caresses on his naked back.

"Love you too" you mumble, pecking him softly. "Strong, perfect alpha".

Rex rumbles low in his throat, pleased; and he pushes your chin up with a hand, making space so that he can tend to your wound. He licks slowly and carefully. It sends after-sparks to your toes, and you squirm unconsciously.

Rex grins.

"Perfect little omega. Mine, mine, mine. Finally mine".

THE END.

This is not checked for errors –i'm posting this at 2am as soon as I've finished it– so forgive my mistakes!

On another note, I just wanted to let you readers know about my closest future proyects:

– I'm currently working in a Tech!mer request (the second part to the 100celeb oneshot I already wrote and published for him), and it will be posted next.

– After that, I'll continue writing the Demon!echo fanfic, which I'm very excited for.

– And after THAT, I'll be finally reopening any free ideas requests. Remember you can always check if I'm requesting or not in the announcement in my main masterlist.

happy new year and take care! Xx, Blue.

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sunnyferr · 1 year ago

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"Akatsuki Yandere + a song for each one"

Hey! This is my second post! I hope you like it as much as you liked the previous one<3

No mentioned pronouns

WARNING: YANDERE, Obsession, manipulation, obsessive jealousy, verbal aggression, mention of physical abuse

part 1 / part 2

characters: Deidara, Sasori, Hidan, and Kakuzu

playing: NEW MAGIC WAND - Tyler, The Creator

Deidara, one of the youngest members of the Akatsuki, I would say he's closer to the "teenage romance," so to speak. I see him as the "sweetest," if you will.

Still, I view him as someone who manipulates emotions. He would use the classic "don't you love me anymore?" as his main weapon. He would never lay a hand on you, but he would play with your innocence and kindness towards others, especially towards him.

"Do you want that nice guy to end up dead because of you?... Hmm, that's what I thought."

Gradually, you would see how your interaction with the outside world deteriorated. He hardly let you communicate with other members, always under his watchful eye.

He would hug and kiss you as much as possible, but only if you were obedient to his rules and commands. He tends to give the cold shoulder when you don't obey what he ordered.

His hands on your cheeks, squeezing lightly as your plump lips parted, he looked at you like a small and defenseless being, one who wouldn't harm a fly. He knew he had you under his control. Your teary eyes made him want to hug you tighter, so tight he could crush your ribs, but love was like his art, explosive, isn't it?

playing: hostage - Billie Eilish

He does not have a heart, Sasori does not have that feeling of "love" like Deidara, he only feels obsession towards your body, your delicacy, and your sweet demeanor... the most innocent puppet in his collection.

He would always be by your side, protecting his next work of art, constantly admiring your eternal beauty, his eyes piercing your beautiful waist and hips, your beautiful hair and your bright eyes, but in his gaze, it is cold, only showing greed to have you there, just for him.

"No, I don't like you at all, you seem annoying to me, what I like is your body..."

He would be in your room all night, watching you sleep while he fixes his puppets, watching your chest rise and fall with your breaths, your body relaxed and stretched, he looks at you with desire, undoubtedly you will be part of his next collection.

He never kissed you, never touched your body, he saw you as so fragile, as if you were made of glass, he did not want to harm your perfectly cared for skin, it would be sacrilege for him...

His hands so close and yet so far from your body, with a destructive desire to strangle you and turn you into his next work of art, to him it seemed... exciting, imagining the way you writhed before him, it made him feel in some way, as if he had control of your life, he loved being able to possess you, to do whatever he wanted with you, like a puppet...

playing: Ultraviolence - Lana Del Rey

In addition to being aggressive as a partner, he is a crazy obsessed with his partner, and always forces you to be behind him, chasing him like a dog in search of some love, because he couldn't even provide that to you.

He always saw you as a fragile doll, that he really wanted to break, stain, just to satisfy his morbid fascination with you, he always wanted to destroy you, sees your tears as the most beautiful and adorable thing, even if they are from the pain he himself caused you.

"Look… are you about to cry again? You are so cute when you cry for me…"

His eyes always on you, watching every move, if you spoke too much, he would correct you when you got to his room, grabbing you tightly by the wrist, quickly dragging you to his room.

He won't really feel guilty about anything, just pretends to by bringing you some flowers and maybe some chocolate or candy he knows you like, so you feel a little loved, and then he will continue to be the same human trash as always.

A wet cloth on your cheek, he had hit you again for throwing a "tantrum", you were crying, in the darkness of the room, until he opened the door, with the same bouquet of flowers as always, throwing it beside you, as if that would make the bruise on your cheek disappear, he slowly approaches you, and places a hand on your injured part, and leans in to give you a kiss, a kiss that seemed sweet, but in reality, meant nothing to him.

playing: Drunk Walk Home - Mitski

A really tough man, very materialistic, not so jealous, he really doesn't care, what he doesn't want is for you to leave his mental control, he is very materialistic, he loves money, how far would he go for it?

I know it's hard to hear, but he prostitutes you, of course, only with the people he wants, he really has a fetish of seeing you surrounded by other men, it's something that actually increases his sexual desire, seeing you trembling and embarrassed is something he craves.

"You look so beautiful when you look like that… you should be grateful that I see you as a beauty…"

You really agreed to that "job" because he threatened to leave you if you didn't accept, really a manipulator, playing with your kindness and love for that man.

although he is a LITTLE kind with the aftercare, helping you up and taking you to the shower, giving you privacy to shower, since in half an hour, more clients would come…

he watched the steam come out from under the door, while he was counting bills, going back to the raw memories of your tears running down your cheeks, really exciting to be honest, he stopped counting when he felt the water turn off, and saw you coming out of the shower with just a towel covering your intimacy it made him think of the beauty he had in front of him, too bad that beauty was not only defiled by the man…

#naruto #naruto x reader #akatsuki #akatsuki x reader #akatsuki yandere #deidara #deidara x reader #sasori #sasori x reader #hidan x reader #hidan #smutt #akatsuki smut #kakuzu #kakuzu x reader

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slytherinzz · 5 months ago

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A Gaunt arrangement

Hello everyone,

I got this prompt in my request and kind of got carried away a little bit, I feel like there is more to write about this story!

I hope you all enjoy and my request are still open, I do so enjoy writing your ideas.

Prompt: Heyy please do a ominis angst to happy ending, where we are the mc and its maybe sixth or seventh year (established relationship) but he's been close to another girl for a while so mc gets jealous and insecure. You can choose how the story goes but i NEED SOME GOOD ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING PLEASEEEE

💫 Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x F!MC (named Olivia, but feel free to self-insert!)

⚠️ Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Please leave a comment, that motivates me greatly.

I’ve never been the jealous type.

Truly, I haven’t.

When I was dating Garreth Weasley in fifth year, and he cozied up to Imelda Reyes after a Quidditch match, I thought nothing of it. Free will is important, I told myself. But then I found them shagging in the dressing rooms a few days later, and my world shattered.

Since then, I’ve tried my best not to let past betrayals cloud my judgment.

But watching her—Eleanor fucking Rosier—lean into Ominis, brush her delicate hand along his sleeve as she whispered something in his ear…

It made my stomach twist painfully.

She was always around. A perfectly bred, poised, pure-blood princess. We had been in the same year since first year, but suddenly, now in our seventh, she had attached herself to Ominis like a sickeningly charming parasite.

And worse?

He let her.

I knew Ominis. Knew the way his lips curled in irritation when someone invaded his space, the way his fingers twitched when he wanted to pull away. But with her? He didn’t.

A shrill laugh rang through the Great Hall, and my gaze snapped to the Slytherin table. There she was, sitting beside him, practically pressed against his side. And Ominis? He looked… blank.

Not uncomfortable. Not anything.

“Are you even listening?”

Poppy’s voice dragged me back to reality. She had been rambling about a rumored phoenix sighting near the Forbidden Forest, but I hadn’t heard a single word.

I blinked, realizing I had been glaring across the hall, my untouched pumpkin juice growing room temperature beside me.

"Sorry," I muttered, forcing myself to look away. "What were you saying?"

Sebastian, sitting across from me, followed my gaze. He sighed, setting his fork down with a dull clatter.

"Just go talk to him."

"There's nothing to talk about." I stabbed my eggs harder than necessary.

Sebastian scoffed. "Right, because brooding and sulking is a much more mature approach."

I glared. "He's the one acting different, not me."

"You know Ominis," Sebastian said, leaning forward. His voice softened. "If he's keeping close to her, there’s a reason."

I hated that he was making sense.

But I hated even more that Ominis hadn’t spoken to me properly in weeks.

He was mine. We had been through heaven and hell together. From reluctant allies to friends to lovers to… this.

I had held him on nights when his nightmares were too much to bear. I had taken care of him when his family pushed him to the breaking point. We had shared everything.

And yet, now?

He was slipping through my fingers.

I tried to ignore it.

Tried to tell myself that Ominis wasn’t avoiding me. That I was being dramatic, insecure, paranoid.

But then he stopped meeting me in the Undercroft, like we did every night.

At first, I assumed he had gotten caught up in prefect duties, but night after night passed, and still—nothing.

It wasn’t until I caught him alone in the Astronomy Tower that I snapped.

"You’re avoiding me."

Ominis turned at the sound of my voice, his expression unreadable. The moonlight carved soft shadows along his sharp features, but there was no warmth in his gaze.

"I’m not," he said simply.

Liar.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but he didn’t respond.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. "Is it her?"

He froze. "What?"

"Eleanor." I took a step closer, watching his face carefully. "Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Ominis remained silent.

"You spend all your time with her," I continued, my voice wobbling despite myself. "You listen to her. You let her touch you."

That last sentence stung.

Ominis hated touch. It took months for him to let me in. I had been patient. I had taken my time, waiting until he felt safe enough to reach for me.

Now, he let her do it so freely.

"I don’t—" he started, but stopped himself.

"Why?" My voice cracked. "Why won’t you talk to me? What’s changed?"

Ominis turned away, running a hand through his platinum hair. His posture was rigid.

"You wouldn’t understand," he muttered.

I scoffed. "Try me."

A silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, finally, he spoke.

"My father," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "He… set up an arrangement."

My breath caught in my throat.

"What?"

Ominis swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into fists.

"I’m betrothed."

It felt like the floor had been yanked out from under me.

He kept going, his voice hollow. "Eleanor’s father is close to mine. If I don’t… cooperate, if I don’t spend time with her, they’ll make sure I regret it."

I stared at him, disbelief crashing over me like a wave.

"You—You’re saying they’ll hurt you?" My voice trembled.

A bitter smile twisted his lips. "They already have."

I sucked in a shaky breath, eyes darting over him desperately as if I could see the damage they had done.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" I whispered.

Ominis laughed softly—but it wasn’t real. It was sharp, pained, hopeless.

"Because I knew what you’d do." His pale eyes—those beautiful, haunted eyes—found mine. "You’d try to stop it. And if you tried… they’d hurt you too."

Tears burned at my eyes.

I wanted to tell him I didn’t care. That I would go to war against the Gaunts if it meant keeping him safe.

But then I looked at him. Really looked at him.

And I realized…

He was terrified.

Not for himself.

For me.

"Ominis," I choked, stepping closer. "I don’t—There has to be another way—"

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"I can handle it," he murmured. "I just need you to… trust me."

A tear slipped down my cheek.

"How can I, when it feels like I’m losing you?"

Ominis reached for me then, finally, his fingers grazing mine. It wasn’t enough.

"It’s not forever," he whispered. "It can’t be."

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the sob rising in my throat.

But deep down, I knew the truth.

As long as the Gaunts had control over him, this wasn’t something we could fight.

And that terrified me.

The days that followed were torture.

Ominis still spent time with Eleanor, still walked beside her in the corridors, still let her touch his arm as if it meant nothing. But now I knew why.

Now I saw it differently.

His posture was stiff every time she spoke to him. His hands trembled slightly when he thought no one was looking. And the worst part?

He barely spoke to me.

Not because he didn’t want to—but because he was protecting me.

But what he didn’t realize was that his silence was hurting me more than the Gaunts ever could.

I found him in the library late one evening, tucked away in the farthest corner, a single candle flickering beside him. He was hunched over, one hand gripping his wand, the other clutching his ribs.

I froze.

"Ominis?"

He stiffened at my voice, his head tilting slightly. He hadn’t heard me approach.

"You shouldn’t be here," he muttered.

My chest tightened. "You’re hurt."

Ominis didn’t respond. But as I stepped closer, I saw it. The way his breathing was uneven, the way he flinched just slightly when he adjusted his posture.

I dropped into the seat beside him and reached out instinctively, fingertips grazing the fabric of his robes.

He flinched.

My heart shattered.

"Let me see," I whispered.

Ominis sighed heavily, as if every part of him was breaking under the weight of this secret. Then, without a word, he unbuttoned the top of his vest and pulled up his shirt.

I had to bite back a gasp.

Bruises. Deep, ugly, fresh. Dark purple and yellow, spreading across his ribs like an artist’s cruel brushstrokes.

I felt sick.

"How?" My voice shook as I reached out, fingers hovering over his skin. "When?"

Ominis swallowed. "I got another letter. I didn’t… respond the way they wanted. They summoned me home, like a fucking puppet"

My hands curled into fists.

His family did this to him. His own blood.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to breathe through the absolute rage coursing through me. Then I stood abruptly, grabbing his wrist and pulling him up.

"O-Olivia—?"

"Come with me."

He hesitated but didn’t resist.

We slipped out of the library, down the dim corridors, and through the tapestry leading to the Undercroft. Our place.

The moment we were inside, I turned to face him.

"This has to stop."

Ominis exhaled sharply, running a shaking hand through his platinum hair.

"You think I don’t know that?" he whispered. "You think I don’t want to—" He cut himself off, turning his face away.

"Then let’s end it," I pleaded. "Together. I don’t care about your family, Ominis. I don’t care about the Gaunt name or their stupid, twisted rules. If they cut you off, fine. Let them. You’re more than their legacy."

His breath hitched.

"You think it’s that easy?" His voice was bitter, laced with exhaustion. "If I walk away, I have nothing. No home. No name. I’m just… gone."

I grabbed his hands, gripping them tightly. "You will always have me."

Ominis stood completely still. His fingers twitched in my grasp, as if he were memorizing the feeling.

Then, slowly, he squeezed back.

"...Say that again."

I stepped closer. "You have me. You will always have me."

His breath shuddered.

Then, without warning, he crashed into me.

His arms wrapped around me, desperate, unrelenting. His forehead pressed against my shoulder, his entire body shaking.

I held him just as tightly, running my fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses to his temple and then finding my lips. It was soft and tender, but the kiss grew desperate and hungry. Finally, I had him all to myself again and I loved every second of it.

For the first time in weeks, Ominis wasn’t holding back.

"I don’t want to do this anymore," he whispered, voice cracking. "I don’t want to pretend. I don’t want to let them control me."

I pulled back just enough to cup his face, thumb brushing against his cheek.

"Then we fight," I said firmly. "We tell them no. We end it. Together."

A tear slipped down his cheek.

Ominis Gaunt never cried.

But now? He let me see him.

He leaned forward, and I met him halfway, our lips crashing together again

It was desperate, raw, full of every unsaid word, every moment that Elanor had stolen from us.

When we finally pulled away, breathless, I pressed my forehead against his.

"No more hiding," I whispered.

Ominis let out a shaky laugh, smiling for the first time in what felt like forever.

"No more hiding."

And in that moment, I knew.

We had already won.

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hungerhutch · 1 year ago

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LUCKY

Peeta Mellark X AFAB!reader

Summary: you're worried about him during the quarter quell

Tags: fluff, slight angst, insecure little Peeta baby😔, kissing, one or two innuendos, three uses of y/n, established relationship (your in Katniss's place, obvi)

wc: 3.134k

Notes: there is definitely not enough Peeta fics!! I'm also working on a hijacked Peeta fic based off of one of my favorite songs! (idk when I'll finish it). Enjoy! also reposting this since it flopped

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It had been three hours since Peeta hit the force field and Finnick had to resuscitate him.

You have been keeping a frantic eye on him, just in case there was another deadly object he wants to bump into (silly lil Peeta. You can’t take him anywhere fr fr).

“y/n- I swear I'm fine. You don't have to keep watching me.” Peeta mumbles and glances at you.

“I know, I'm just scared.. Maybe you shouldn’t be so clumsy.” you tease, trying to calm some of your nerves.

“Ok, ok. I get it. I thought everyone knew I was the weak one in the alliance.” he chuckles and shakes his head.

“What do you mean? You’re not weak, Peeta. You won the games.” you look at him and raise your eyebrow.

“Are you sure? I won the games because of you. I was just.. Lucky.” he looks back at you and shrugs.

“Lucky? Peeta, I’m the lucky one. We probably wouldn’t have made it together if you didn’t find those berries.” you sigh and scoot closer to him. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and squeezes you gently. “y/n.. Just because I found some berries, doesn’t mean I’m not weak. I’m just a baker.. You deserve someone who can take care of you.”

You gently grab his chin and turn his head to face you. “But you can. You’re the only person I feel safe with. And I like that you’re a baker. It makes you more adorable.” you giggle softly and stare into his eyes.

“You’re just saying that.” he blushes faintly and rolls his eyes playfully.

“No, I'm not.” you brush away a piece of his hair and shake your head.

He smiles at you and wraps his other arm around you.

You rest your head in his lap and lean against him, smiling back up at him as he strokes your hair.

“So it's true. I guess the ‘star-crossed lovers’ are actually real.” Finnick snorts, nudging Johanna next to him.

“Isn't it obvious? I thought it was hilariously clear when she started whaling on him and shouting at all of us after his heart stopped.” Johanna laughs, nudging him back.

“I thought she was gonna start punching me after i gave him mouth to mouth.” He laughs with her, glancing at the two of you.

“‘Peeta! Peeta! Omg Peeeetaa!!’” Johanna mimics you, laughing even harder with Finnick.

You glare at them and sit up from his lap. “Do you two ever shut up?”

“Oh please, we all know how you got that ‘baby’ inside you.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. “You two make me sick.”

“Whatever, lover girl.” they laugh again and walk back over to the rest of the group

You sigh and lean back against him “I can’t stand them sometimes.”

“Me either.. I just wish they would give us some time to ourselves.” he mumbles and kisses you on the forehead.

“‘Wanna go for a walk? For a break?” you smile and raise your eyebrow

“Yeah, why not?” he smile back at you and stands up

“Hey ‘love birds’! Come back with another bun in the oven so we can get some sponsors, eh?” Finnick shouts and laughs harder.

“Don't make me shoot you!” you shout back and grab his hand as you head deeper into the jungle.

You lean against a tree next to him and rest your head on his shoulder. “I miss home so much. I would do anything to have your cinnamon buns one last time before my stupid inevitable death.”

“Cmon y/n, you’re not gonna die. I’ll make sure of it.” he strokes the side of your head with his thumb. “Once we get home together, I’m gonna make you your own batch.” he chuckles and pecks the top of your head softly.

“Peeta, you know it's practically impossible to get out of this together, right?” you glance up at his face and smile sadly.

“I know, but I'm willing to risk those odds. I’m sure I'm lucky enough” he smiles back at you and moves his hand from your hair to your cheek.

You grin and pull him into a soft kiss. Not a forced one, for the cameras or for the capitol. A real kiss.

“you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to.” he says after you pull away.

“I know.” you nod and kiss him again.

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#peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x you #peeta mellark fluff #peeta mellark angst #the hunger games #thg #josh hutcherson #sean anderson #clapton davis #derek danforth #journey to the center of the earth #clapton davis x reader #sean anderson x reader #derek danforth x reader #fluff #fan fiction #angst #smutt

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popcornforone · 4 months ago

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Membership

A Clint Fan Fic

This week we finally got a trailer for Freaky Tales, & got to see Clint in actions. I had no plans on doing a fic at all this week & just give you some mr Ben next weekend but then there he stood like this & now here we are, striking while he’s still trending.

Synopsis:- It’s the 80s & you are running the video store when Clint walks in.

Word count:- 3000

Warnings:- DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Oral (male receiving) fingering, dominance, power shift, swearing, age gap, a lack of consent. Face fuck, gagging, kinda facial.

Thanks for the read peoples. Hopefully here in the uk we get a cinema release for the film. We’ve been spoilt for content for our man this week.

It’s a slow Thursday night. In he walks, straight past the main cases of vhs tapes adorning the wall of your video store & straight into the back. He was a man on a mission. A man with purpose.

“Bob look after the store” you say to the teenager who you’ve been training & you leave the counter, pausing the tape you were auto rewinding in your new machine. You’re sure your over sized braclets are catching onto things making a racket.

You get to the back of the store. The adult section. Videos for people who want more than just a nice romantic night in with their partner. a large XXX sign illuminates this little nook of the store. You know all your regulars, you know their likes & wants & they usually nod at you at the desk to say they are there, before heading to the back, but this man, he didn’t. He just walked straight past. Maybe he’s new in town. Maybe he’s after something in particular that you’ve got. But you need to make sure he’s not trashing up the place or being inappropriate back here. Usually a regular, you half glimpse at the cctv as they choose their vice, but this guy you need to check out.

The red light illuminates him as well as the adult material on the wall. His hair is slicked back. It’s black & you are sure in the day time would look more oily that a gas station floor. The light is also catching on his black leather jacket. It sits just above his arse. Jeans tight in all the right places. Boot cut with some black boots underneath. His left hand touches his lips, his facial hair well kept. He has an aura. You sniff, his musk is intoxicating. You sigh slightly as you peak around the corner, but it’s clearly loud enough for him to hear you. He stops looking at the shelf & turns to face you. The light doesn’t show you his eyes are filled of desire & want.

“Can I help you?” He asks sternly, clearly not happy he’s not been spied on. You almost leap out of your skin. It’s a stern voice but it’s also arousing.

“Sorry” you stay & step out. A plad mini skirt & a skinny black vest just about covers your body. Chucky braclets are over both of your wrists. Your hair curly but pulled off your face, it is tied up but it still has a life of its own. “This is my video store & usually my regulars at least acknowledge me or people ask to come look at the back, but you sir…”

“Clint!”

“… Clint, you did neither, so I just need to check what you are doing here” you say smugly. You like seeing the shock on peoples faces when they realise this is yours.

“This is your store”

“Yes, it’s actually my dads, but I will be taking over soon”

“Was gonna say aren’t you a little young to be back here yourself”

“Im 27” you reply with a bit more attitude. “I can now see that you are clearly over 21 or 25 so as long as you leave this area exactly how you found it other than what you wish to rent, that’s fine” you stand there arms folded you blow a bubble with the gum you’ve been chewing, clearly showing that you are in charge & not to be messed with.

“Alright little miss vhs, it’s okay” he puts his hand up like he’s gonna be shot. He says it sarcastically. He’s such a skinny waist which can be Seen more his jacket has been lifted. That belt buckle is nice & shiny. He has a lot to be proud of. You can’t help but stare & he catches your eyes dart over him. He chuckles & rests a hand on his hip to enhance your view.

“So erm” you gulp trying to contain your own urges. He’s very handsome. He’s at least in his 40s. “Are you looking for something in particular” remembering that you own this video shop. Clint smirks, his lips curling just enough to make your stomach twist in a way you don’t entirely hate. He slides his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, the leather of his jacket creaking with the motion.

“Maybe,” he says, drawing out the word like he’s testing you. “What do you recommend?” You raise an eyebrow, not missing the way his gaze flickers over your body, lingering just a second too long before meeting your eyes again. You’re used to men looking, especially back here, but something about the way he does it feels different. Less sleazy, more… curious. Like he’s just as interested in you as he is in whatever film he came looking for.

You chew your gum, buying yourself a second to think.

“Depends what you’re into,” you reply, shifting your weight onto one hip. Your bracelets jangle as you cross your arms. “Soft, hard, vintage, foreign, themed…” You let the last word linger, just to see if he reacts.He chuckles, slow and deep.

“You know your stuff.”

“I own my stuff.” You shrug. His smirk widens at that, & for a moment, the only sound between you is the distant hum of the store’s old fluorescent lights & the soft whir of the security camera overhead. Then he steps closer, just enough that you catch another wave of his scent, musky with a hint of cigarettes & cheap cologne. It shouldn’t be appealing, but on him, it works.

He glances at the shelves, then back at you.

“Got anything… exclusive?” Your breath hitches. You do, of course. The locked cabinet behind the counter holds the kind of tapes you don’t advertise, rare imports, limited releases, things you only offer to people you trust. You tilt your chin up, meeting his gaze with a challenge.

“Depends,” you say, keeping your voice steady. “Are you a member I’ve not seen before?”His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip.

“Not yet.”

You should shut this down. You should tell him you don’t do special favors for guys who waltz in without so much as a hello. But instead, you find yourself biting your lip, considering. Something about Clint makes you want to see how far this could go.

“What can I do to convince you to join our membership” you step towards him, blowing your gum once more. He’s twitch in every way visible.

“What are the perks I could get for being a regular?” He also makes the space between you both mere centimetres. You clearly see those brown eyes for the first time. So rich, full of mischief as his moustache twitches.

“Complete discretion, on demand, the personal service, only the best for my clients” as you say this his hand trails up the skin on your arm. Goosebumps cover your skin at the speed of light. “& erm” your voice trembles”my own personal recommendation”

“Do you watch the films?” He asks, seduction & lust fill the air, sexual tension grips the two of you.

“Does anyone ever really watch them?” You joke. It’s your turn to touch him. The leather feels so good in your hand. He coughs, he’s not bashful but it makes him press his body against you. There definitely something in those trousers & your sure it’s not a gun, but it’s loaded for sure.

Clint exhales a short laugh, low & rough, the sound rolling through your own body, shaking you to the core. His body heat radiates through the leather, through the thin fabric of your vest, through every inch of air between you, sticky & hot.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs, his voice a rasp against the thick tension settling between you both.You tilt your head, feigning innocence.

“I run a respectable business.” You say & blow

Another bubble. Each time it pops he lusts for you a little more. His eyes flick to your lips, then back up.

“Sure you do.”You should step back. You should remind yourself that this is your store, your rules, & that Clint is just another customer, one who didn’t even bother with a polite nod before marching in like he owned the place. But your hand is still on his jacket, fingers brushing against the metal teeth of his zipper, & he hasn’t moved away. Would he move away if your hands moved to another zip? Instead, he shifts just slightly, the hard press of him against your hip making your breath catch. His smirk deepens, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“Tell me,” he says, voice a shade darker now. “That personal recommendation, how hands-on is that service?” Your pulse jumps. You should be the one in control here. You own this store, you know this game, you’ve played it before. But Clint? Clint feels like a game you’ve never played, a gamble you don’t mind losing. You shift your weight, just enough to test him, to see if he’ll pull back. He doesn’t. Instead, his hand, warm, calloused, rough in all the right ways, drifts down, brushing against the hem of your plaid skirt.

“I guess that depends,” you breathe, lips parting as he leans in, his scent overwhelming, intoxicating. “How committed of a member do you plan to be?”

His answer is a low hum, something close to a growl, as his fingers skim your bare thigh.

Your own hand graces the zipper on his fly.

“Fully committed”

It’s a blur. The hand grabbing your flesh. The deep moan. The fireworks in your belly. Every nerve stands to attention as those lips, that have been smirking, connect to your own. His lips crash against yours with a hunger that sends a shockwave through your entire body. It’s not just a kiss, It’s a claim, a challenge, a taste of something dangerous & utterly irresistible. His stubble scrapes against your skin, a delicious contrast to the warmth of his mouth, the way his tongue flicks against yours, coaxing, demanding, taking. Your hands slide up his chest, fingers fisting the leather of his jacket, pulling him in. He groans against your lips, low & rough, his hands gripping your waist, fingers digging into the fabric of your mini skirt as if he’s already imagining what’s underneath.

He presses you back against the shelf, the hard edge digging into your spine, but you don’t care, you barely notice, not when his thigh slips between yours, not when the heat of his body is melting into you. His fingers slip under the hem of your skirt, teasing the bare skin of your upper thigh, & your breath catches, a small, needy sound escaping your lips.

“That a preview of your personal recommendations?” His voice is thick with amusement, but there’s something darker underneath, something barely restrained.You tug at his belt, feeling the sharp hiss of his breath against your lips.

“You could say that,” you murmur, dragging your teeth along his jaw. His grip tightens on you, pulling you even closer, until you can feel every inch of him, the hard press of his body making your knees weak. His lips trail down, nipping at your jawline, then lower, sucking at the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna make me do something reckless,” he mutters against your skin, his voice rough with need.You grin, tilting your head to give him better access.

“Wouldn’t be the first time something inappropriate happened in the back of this store.” He exhales a laugh, but it turns into a groan when you roll your hips against him, feeling just how ready he is through the tight denim of his jeans. His hands move with more purpose now, pushing up the hem of your skirt, fingers teasing, testing. Your own hands work at his belt, the metal clinking in the quiet hum of the store

“Fuck,” he breathes, dragging his mouth back to yours, kissing you deeper, rougher, like he’s losing whatever control he had left. You wink & slowly part your mouths & drop to your knees. “Fuck baby you’re full of surprises” he says as you tighten your hair & pull it back & he unzips. He’s commando beneath the jeans. He’s not well kept, tufts of hair around the base of his girthy cock. Already dripping. Erect, hard, magnificent. Your hands grip the shaft, your eyes wide, encouraging its stiffness. He has to grip the shelf already breathless. Already small sweat droplets appearing on his brow.

“Only the best for our most dedicated members” you spit onto his length & then start to devour him.

“Jesus oooh fuck” the warmth & wetness of your mouth making him want to spill his load. His nails dig into the shelf as he growls, trying to keep it down. Slurping & sucking as you bob. He looks up to the ceasing trying you calm his mind, so his body will calm to make this glorious moment last longer. No one will ever believe him if he told them the girl at the video store sucked him off in the XXX area. The relief he had wanted to find on his own tonight, now being one that was much more intimate. His concentration broken by you gagging a few moments later as he hit your throat. He doesn’t moan he purrs. His body trembling, he’s struggling to control.

“Fuck ooooh fuck, more more more” he finally looks down at you, your eyes streaming, your head moving in time with his own hip movements. The wicked glint in your eyes. He’s not sure if this is something you do for all clients but he’s glad he’s getting this service. Your spluttering as you come up for air, a trail of saliva connecting your mouth to his angry tip. You sink back in & he doesn’t protest.

“Such a tight mouth, such a talented fucking tongue” he says before he inches foreward, he’s losing control. His knees pin your shoulders against the vhs shelves & he fully grabs onto a higher shelf. He thrusts. Like his life depended on it. Your mouth being assaulted. He’s face fucking you. His body moving like fingers shredding a guitar. He growls fuck after every other moan. His face reddening, his knuckles white from his grip, the shelving creaking. Luckily no vhs case has fallen off yet. His hair all but in place apart from a couple of strays at the front, they are usually unkept if he’s not pushed them back. His eyes if not rolling into the back of his head at huge dilated & filled with a desire that is unmatched.

“Fuck baby, taking it so well fuck fuck fuck” he slams his hand on top of the shelf. Clenched fist pounding like he is into your mouth. “Love it when you gag” it’s a snarl. His whole weight & ferocity of his movements almost crushing your against the shelves

“Ooooh god, oooh fuck, I’m gonna cum I’m gonna, I… I.. fuck” no more warning than that. Salty warm liquid gushes into your mouth as his body judders. The most earthly groan fills the air. You almost choke on it, unable to swallow it all as you were still sucking due to the lack of warning. It’s dripping out the side of your lips. You lick him clean as well as you can. Some splatters fall onto your legs just over your knees. That mini skirt being short enough it won’t be stained, from ropes of his cum.

“Fuck baby fuck” he completely pulls away & gets a handkerchief out of his jacket to wipe his length down. He then hands you the sodden tissue, to wipe your face clean. Your still sat on the floor being all sweet & innocent for him despite the explicit activity you just performed on him. He looks down & sees your perfect cleavage, your vest top is made of a thin material, & your bra isn’t helping cover your erect nipples. He has to really palm his crotch to stop him getting erect again. He’s thinking about how good his penis would look between your boobs as he fucked them. Is your cunt as tight & as talented as your mouth? He shakes his head & finally offers a hand & you stand up & look deeply into the most lusting eyes you’ve ever seen. The red of the xxx light still making him seem even more seductive, a glow of mischief.

“That’s a service I’ve never provided” you say softly. He raises an eyebrow.

“As in a hands on personal approach or oral…”

“I’ll let you decide that,” you wink “but that was better then any solo performance you could have had to a video”

“True” he nods. Fly & belt now done back up. His hand checks his hair is slicked back.

“This is a membership I plan on using all the perks of”

“& what if that was just an introductory offer?” His mouth parts, if it was a whacky 80s cartoon it would have hit the floor.

“You mean there’s more?” He says. You nod & put your hand down the inside of your mini skirt & into your panties.

“So much more all I need is a name & a contact number & we can arrange a membership that will keep us both satisfied”

He gulps. He hears you moan. He’d love to fuck you raw here & now, but he knows he’s got to go. In the top of his jackets he pulls out a small business card. You remove your hand from your pleasure & read it.

“Well it’s been a pleasure Clint” you smirk, knowing you now have his number.

“The pleasure was all mine” he says as he heads to leave. As he gets to the corner to enter the main part of the shop he turns back & says the following words before winking, leaving & making you feel all unnecessary. “next time the pleasure will be all yours”

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drippingghoneyy · 4 months ago

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Unforgettable - Viktor x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a night out with your friends at a bar in the Undercity, Viktor walks you back to your room. Everything is calm until Viktor notices a small tattoo on your hip…

**continuation of “ My Oh My”

Genre/ Pairing: m/f, Viktor x fem!Reader, (Written in Viktor’s POV)

WARNINGS: MDNI! NSFW, smut, pwp, Implied Curvy Reader, Tattoo, alcohol consumption, biology, tension, teasing, grinding, jealousy, possessive!Viktor, dom!Viktor, sub! fem!Reader, dom/sub dynamics, brat, piv, fingering, missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, big dick Viktor, pet names, begging, scratching, friends-to-lovers, voice kink, obedience kink, nipple play, bondage (mentioned), degradation, claiming, "whore”, “slut”, “sir” .. (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: looong. 9.7k.

Notes: *I needed more filler and thought the tattoo idea was cute. It also connects things in a little bit. *sweet boy ruins it at the end, well kinda *I feel like curvy fem biology assistant x Viktor will be a common theme in some of my work. They will not be connected... *I tried to continue from Viktor's POV, and I don't quite like the ending. *This is the 3rd smut I've ever written so be kind. Where can I improve? what did you like? what did you not? Reblog and like!! I read all of them, they make my whole day!

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

You grabbed my hand before pulling me along with your group of friends as you started to leave the bar, hidden away in the Undercity.

The trip back to the academy seemed to pass in a blur, the cobblestone streets of the undercity a stark contrast to the gleaming spires of our academic sanctuary. The warmth of your hand in mine was a lifeline, a connection to the reality of the world outside this bar, and I held onto it tightly, my thoughts spiraling out of control.

As we approached the grand archway that marked the entrance to the academy, you leaned into me, the alcohol in your system making your movements a little sloppier than usual. "V," you shouted over the noise of the city, "walk me back to my room?"

The request was simple, but the implications were vast. At that moment, I knew that the lines of our friendship were about to be redrawn. I nodded, my heart racing, and as the group split off, Jayce and your best friend exchanged knowing smiles, the kind that said they'd been waiting for this moment for a long time….

As we walked through the dimly lit hallways of the academy, the echo of our footsteps seemed to amplify the silence between us. The scent of your perfume mingled with the faint odor of the undercity, a heady combination that made me want to devour you whole. I allowed myself to look over you, really look at you, for the first time that night.

The tight skirt and revealing top you had chosen for the night out highlighted your curves in a way that was both tantalizing and infuriating. The way your hips swayed with every step was a silent invitation that I was desperate to accept. The undercity had brought out a side of you that I had never seen before, a side that was as alluring as it was dangerous.

We reached your door, the hallway dimly lit by flickering candles. You fumbled with the lock, your hands unsteady from the drinks. "Let me," I murmured, taking the key from your trembling hand. The lock clicked open, and the door swung wide, revealing the sanctity of your private space.

As I stepped inside, the reality of what had transpired in the Undercity bar began to sink in. I couldn't help but question if the fiery, flirtatious woman who had danced so seductively for me was the same person I knew as the sweet, shy assistant. The walls of the academy felt like they were closing in around us, a stark contrast to the openness of the undercity streets.

The room was a reflection of your academic life, filled with books and notes, a stark contrast to the seductive figure you had presented earlier. The scent of ink and paper filled the air, a comforting embrace that only served to amplify the tension between us. You turned to me, your eyes searching mine, a hint of vulnerability peeking through the mask of confidence you had worn all night.

Was it all just an act? A part of you that you had allowed to surface for a brief moment before retreating back into your shell? Or had the under city truly changed you, unearthing a side that craved attention, that desired to be seen and claimed?

You stepped closer, the warmth of your body radiating through the fabric of our clothes. Our eyes met, and for a moment, I could see the under city in yours, a wild, untamed place where the rules were different. The shy, reserved assistant I knew had been replaced by a woman who was unapologetic in her desire. But was this the real you, or a facade you wore for the night?

"I had a great time tonight," you said, your voice a soft purr that made my skin tingle. "I'm so happy you came."

"Are you?" I asked, my voice low and gruff. "Or are you just happy to have your knight in shining armor come to rescue you?"

You smirked, a hint of challenge in your eyes. "Maybe a little bit of both," you admitted, your hand sliding up my chest. "But mostly I'm just happy to see you."

The air grew thick with anticipation as I searched your eyes, and the realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. You had seen me watching you, had felt my gaze on you all night long. The smirk playing on your lips grew wider as your hand slid up my chest, your thumb brushing against the neckline of my shirt. The heat from your touch sent shockwaves through my body, making my breath hitch in my throat.

"Viktor," you whispered, your eyes sparkling with mischief, "you didn't come to pick us up with Jayce, did you?"

I swallowed hard, unable to find the words to lie to you. The truth was written all over my face, a blend of desire and possessiveness that I had been unable to hide.

"I... I was worried about you," I finally managed to say, my voice a rough admission of the emotions I had been trying to keep at bay all evening.

Your smirk grew wider, and you stepped closer, your breasts brushing against my chest. "Worried, or jealous?"

The question hung in the air between us, a silent dare that sent a shiver down my spine. I knew what you were doing, the way you were testing me, pushing my boundaries. You had seen the hunger in my gaze, the way I had devoured you with my eyes as you danced, and now you wanted me to admit it. You wanted me to confess that I hadn't just been watching over you for your safety, but because I couldn't take my eyes off the woman you had become in the Undercity's embrace.

Your eyes searched mine, looking for the truth that was written plainly on my face. You knew me too well, knew that my desire for you was something that had been simmering beneath the surface for years, a secret that I had kept locked away. But as the night had worn on, as I had watched you flirt and laugh and sing, the lock had begun to rust, the key turning in the tumbler.

You stepped closer still, your hand now resting on my chest, your thumb tracing lazy circles on my skin. "I know you were watching me," you whispered, your breath hot against my ear. "I could feel your eyes on me all night."

Something within me snapped, the last thread of restraint giving way. I pulled you into me, my hands gripping your hips with a fierce possessiveness that I hadn't felt in years.

"You were such a slut," I murmured into your ear, the words coming out harsher than I intended. "Every move, every laugh, every glance."

Your eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing your features, but it was quickly replaced by a smoldering desire that mirrored my own.

"Was I?" you whispered back, your voice a challenge.

With a growl, I crushed my mouth to yours, the kiss rough and demanding. Your body melted into mine, your arms wrapping around my neck as we devoured each other. The taste of the undercity still lingered on your lips, a tantalizing blend of sweetness and danger. I knew then that I couldn't fight it anymore. I wanted you, all of you, the shy professor and the wild creature of the night.

Your hand found its way to my cane, wrapping around the cool metal as if it were an extension of my body. You used it to pull me closer, the strength in your grip surprising. The cane clattered to the floor, forgotten as our kiss deepened, your nails digging into my skin. I didn't need it to stand anymore; your embrace was all the support I needed.

Our tongues fought a passionate battle, tasting and exploring each other with a fervor that was long overdue. The sweetness of your mouth, mixed with the faint tang of alcohol and the bitter taste of the coffee we'd shared earlier, was an intoxicating cocktail that had me reeling and hungry for more. Your moan was music to my ears, a symphony of desire that had been bottled up for far too long.

My hands found their way to your ass, the soft flesh beneath my fingertips sending shockwaves through my body. I had dreamed of this moment for years, imagining the way you'd feel in my arms, and reality was so much better than my wildest fantasies. You arched into my touch, your body begging for more as we continued.

With every squeeze, you moaned a little louder, the sound of your pleasure music to my ears. The fabric of your skirt was thin, offering little resistance as I explored your curves with an insatiable hunger.

Each rub of my palm against your skin pulled more noises from you, and the feeling of your ass in my hands was intoxicating. The confidence you had displayed in the bar was now melting away, leaving behind a need that was raw and undeniable.

I broke the kiss, leaving us both panting messes. Eyes dark with desire, raked over me, drinking in the sight of my flushed cheeks and swollen lips. A smirk played on your face as you leaned in to whisper, "Did you enjoy the show?" The jealousy from earlier still lingered like a dark cloud, but it had transformed into something else entirely—possession.

"You put on quite the performance," I replied, my voice a low rumble of approval. "But remember, you're mine." My words were a declaration, a stark contrast to the gentle academic who had taught you so much. In this moment, I was of the undercity, the man who had claimed you long ago.

Your eyes widened a fraction, a spark of surprise followed by a smoldering heat. "Is that so?" You challenged, your voice a breathy whisper. The way you leaned into me, pressing your body closer, told me that you didn't just enjoy the show, you reveled in the power it gave you. But I wasn't about to let you think you had the upper hand for long.

"You know it," I said, my voice a low, commanding growl that seemed to resonate through the very fabric of the room. "Every move, every smile, every sway of your hips was for me." I slapped your ass, the sound echoing through the room like a declaration of war. The cheek flushed a deeper red under the sting, and you gasped, your eyes lighting up with a mix of shock and arousal.

I took a step back, allowing you to process the sensation, watching as you bit your bottom lip, your eyes never leaving mine. Your breaths grew shallow, your chest rising and falling with the effort of keeping your emotions in check. I could see the wheels turning in your mind, the desire to submit to me, to let go of the control you had clung to so tightly all evening.

As the sting began to fade, I reached out, my hand gentle as it traced the outline of the red handprint on your skin. You trembled under my touch, your eyes never leaving mine as I took in the sight of your body's reaction to my claim. It was a heady feeling, one that made me feel alive in a way I hadn't felt in years. The scent of your desire filled the air, a potent aphrodisiac that had me aching to possess you fully.

Your breaths grew shallower, your chest rising and falling in a tantalizing rhythm that matched the beat of the music still pulsing through my veins. The way your eyes searched mine was a silent question, one that I was more than eager to answer. I leaned in, my lips brushing against your ear as I whispered, "You're mine, and I'll never let anyone else touch you like that."

The words seemed to unleash something within you, and you pushed into my touch, your hips rolling against my hand. I watched with a hunger that was barely contained, the way your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned. Your reaction was everything I had hoped for and more, your body begging for the release that only I could give you.

"Viktor," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I want... I need..."

Your confidence was slipping away, and in its place was a vulnerability that was almost painful in its beauty. I stepped closer, my other hand coming up to cradle your cheek, my thumb brushing away a stray strand of hair. "What do you need, little one?" I asked, my voice gentle despite the raging desire within me.

You looked up at me, your eyes wide with a mix of want and fear, but couldn't quite look up at him. "I... I want you to fuck me," you managed to get out, your voice shaking with need. The words were a declaration, a surrender to the passion that had been simmering between us for so long.

Her grip on my hand tightened as I took a step closer. "Are you sure?" I murmured, voice a gentle rumble. "I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"I'm sure," you said, the conviction in your voice leaving no room for doubt. "I want you, Viktor."

The walls of the academy seemed to close in around us, the air thick with the tension of unspoken desires. I felt a thrill run through me at the thought of claiming you here, now, but I knew better than to let that happen. Instead, I leaned in, my lips capturing yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was demanding. You melted into me, your body fitting against mine as if we had been made for this exact moment.

Breaking away from your mouth, I whispered, "Take me to your room." The command was soft, but the urgency in my tone left no room for argument.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed with excitement, handing me my cane before leading the way through your room. The sound of your high heels clicking against the stone floor was like a seductive promise of what was to come.

As you opened the door, the warm glow of candlelight spilled into the hallway, revealing a sanctuary of knowledge. Books and stacks of paper piled high, creating a labyrinth of wisdom that was quintessentially you.

Yet amidst the chaos, your bed stood out like an oasis, large and soft, the pristine soft green sheets a stark contrast to the dark wooded frame. It was a beacon of comfort in a sea of scholarly ambition, and it was here that my darkest desires took root.

For a brief moment, the image of you, bound to that very headboard with silken cords, flashed through my mind. Your wrists and ankles tied to the four posts, your body stretched out and offered to me like a sacrifice to some ancient deity of lust. But tonight was not the night for such games. Tonight was about claiming what was mine, about showing you the depth of my hunger and the intensity of my need.

The room smelled faintly of coffee and vanilla, a scent that was as comforting as it was arousing. As you led me through the maze of your academic sanctuary, the sight of your bed brought forth a deluge of impure thoughts. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the room, a bastion of comfort in the chaos of your intellectual world. The dark wooded frame of the bed was a silent sentinel, watching over us as we approached.

My gaze lingered on the bed, the images of you bound and at my mercy playing in my mind. We stepped closer to the bed, and you turned to face me, your eyes searching my face for a hint of the desires that I had kept hidden for so long. I knew that you saw the hunger in my gaze, the raw need that had been building since the moment I had laid eyes on you in that undercity bar.

You reached up to my face, your hand shaky with anticipation. "Viktor," you whispered, your voice a soft caress against my skin. "I trust you."

With those three words, you had given me the world. I knew that this was a pivotal moment, one that would change the course of our relationship forever. The academy had been our sanctuary, a place where we had built a foundation of friendship and respect. But tonight, in the dim candlelight of your room, the undercity had followed us, bringing with it a passion that neither of us could ignore.

Gently, I pushed you backward, my hands guiding you until the backs of your legs hit the bed. You sat down, and I knelt before you, taking your hands in mine. The fabric of your skirt was still rucked up a bit around your hips, revealing the lacy dark red underwear. Only a peek but, I assume that they left little to the imagination. I kissed the inside of your wrists, feeling the pulse of your excitement against my lips.

"You think it'll be this easy to get me on my knees again?" I chuckled darkly, my eyes never leaving yours. "You're going to have to work much harder than that, my dear."

The laugh that bubbled out of me was a mix of nerves and excitement. You blushed, looking away for a moment before meeting my gaze with a playful smirk. "Is that so?" you challenged, lifting your chin in defiance.

My hands slid up your legs, my thumbs tracing the sensitive skin just beneath the edge of your underwear. "You see, the thing is, my sweet," I murmured, my eyes locked onto yours, "you're used to being in control here, aren't you?" Your cheeks flushed at the accusation, but the spark in your gaze told me that you didn't disagree.

You nodded, meant only as a tease, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "But tonight," I continued, "tonight, the roles are reversed." With a quick tug, I pulled your skirt up over your hips, revealing the dark red lace panties that matched your bra. "And if you think I'll let you sit in judgment of me again, you're mistaken."

My eyes fell to the spot where your thigh met your hip, and I saw it—a small, delicate tattoo that read "unforgettable." It was almost as if it were a brand, a mark of ownership that sent a jolt of possessiveness through me.

I couldn't resist the urge to run my thumb over the inked skin, feeling the indentation of the letters. The sight of it, so unexpected yet fitting, was like a siren's call to the depths of my desire.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as I touched the tattoo. "Viktor," you breathed, your voice a tremble of pleasure. "What are you doing?"

"Claiming what's mine," I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them. The tension in the room grew palpable as I traced the word with the pad of my thumb, the smoothness of your skin contrasting with the roughness of the ink. The sight of it, so intimate and personal, was like a declaration of war on my self-control.

"Is that what you think this is?" you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and seduction. "Claiming?"

I met your gaze, my eyes dark with desire. "You know it is." My hand slid up your thigh, my thumb continuing to caress the tattoo as I leaned in, my breath hot against your skin. "You're mine, and I want everyone to know it."

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as you considered my words. "Everyone?" The challenge in your voice was unmistakable, and the smoldering heat between us grew.

"Everyone," I reaffirmed, my thumb still lingering over your "unforgettable" tattoo. The word was like a brand on your skin, a declaration that no one would ever forget who you belonged to. "Everyone who dares to look at you, to think they know you, will see that you're mine."

You took a sharp breath in, the implications of my words sinking in. I could see the conflict playing out on your face, the struggle between your academic persona and the woman who craved to be claimed. But as my thumb swiped over the ink again, the decision was made. You leaned back, your body arching slightly, giving me better access to the treasure hidden beneath the fabric.

"Viktor," you whispered, a hint of amusement in your voice, "you really are dense sometimes." Your laugh was like a cool breeze on a hot summer's day, sending a shiver down my spine as your eyes searched mine for understanding. "That tattoo...it's not about someone else claiming me."

I felt a rush of relief and something else, something deeper that I couldn't quite put my finger on. I leaned in closer, my hand still resting on your hip, my thumb pressing into the word "unforgettable" once more, slightly harder than before.

As I did, a soft whine of desire slipped from your lips.

Suddenly, I was transported back to one of those late nights in the lab, the kind that felt like forever ago. Your hair had been pulled back into a messy bun, strands of it sticking to your forehead as you squinted into a microscope. It had been a rough week for you, the kind where the pile of assignments and projects had grown to a mountainous height, and the endless stream of faculty meetings had left you drained. But there you were, in your element, the soft hum of the machines lulling us both into a rhythm of focused work.

The lab had been our sanctuary, a place where we could be ourselves without the prying eyes of Piltover society. The room was bathed in the soft blue light of the monitors and the occasional beep of the heart rate monitors. The scent of antiseptic and the faint odor of formaldehyde were the only interruptions in the otherwise quiet space.

It was in this serene environment that the sound of shattering glass pierced through the air, jolting me out of my thoughts. I whipped my head around, the cane clutched in my hand as I searched for the source of the disturbance. My eyes fell upon you, standing still as a statue, your eyes squeezed shut in what could only be an attempt to process the chaos you had just wrought. In your hand, a delicate shard of what had once been a beaker, the remnants of some experiment you'd been working on.

As I took a step towards you, the pieces of glass crunched beneath my feet. My eyes locked onto the trail of tears that streaked down your cheeks, glinting in the candlelight like diamonds. "You're crying?" I asked, the words barely a whisper.

Panic flooded my chest as I saw the tears on your face, your eyes screwed shut tightly as if trying to hold back the deluge of emotions threatening to spill over. My legs propelled me forward, the cane forgotten as I reached for you, the need to comfort and protect you overriding everything else. "You're crying?" I managed to get out, the words a jumble of concern and disbelief.

My heart hammered in my chest as I took the shard of what had remained of your beaker out of your hand, carefully to ensure there was no broken glass, tossing it aside. "What happened?" I asked, my voice thick with concern. "Are you okay?"

You took a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly beneath your shirt. "I'm fine," you said, your voice too calm, too collected for the storm of emotions I could see playing out on your face. But the tremor in your voice gave you away. "It was just an accident."

"No, you're not," I said firmly, pulling you into my arms. Your body was stiff against mine, a stark contrast to the softness of your skin. "What's wrong?"

For a moment, you remained silent, your breath hitching in your throat as if you were fighting back a sob. Then, like a dam breaking, the floodgates opened, and the words spilled out in a torrent of despair. "I can't do this, Viktor," you whispered against my chest, the warmth of your breath seeping through my shirt. "I'm not good enough. All of my work, all of the late nights, the experiments, the research—it's all for nothing."

I held you tighter, my heart breaking at the sound of your anguish. "What do you mean?" I prodded gently, my voice a soft caress against your hair.

"Everything," you said, the word coming out as a choked sob. "I can't keep up with the research, the expectations... I'm not... I'm not as good as they think I am." Your voice broke, the dam of your composure shattering into a thousand pieces at my feet.

I pulled you away from me slightly, holding your waist and looking into your tear-stained eyes. "You are amazing," I said with all the conviction I had. "The work you've done, the knowledge you hold, it's mesmerizing." I couldn't believe the words I was speaking, the raw emotion that was spilling out of me. It was like I had been holding in a tsunami, and now the levee had broken. My thumb pressed into your hip gently, the gesture a silent reassurance amidst the storm of doubt swirling in the room.

Pulling you away from me slightly, I held onto your waist, keeping you close while still giving you space to breathe. "This is just a moment of weakness," I reassured you, my eyes never leaving yours. "And that's okay. We all have them."

I wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of my thumb. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what," I promised. "Whenever you need me, I'll be here."

The air was charged with unspoken words and the electricity of our shared moment. You looked up at me, your eyes glistening with unshed tears and hope. "Viktor," you whispered, the sound of my name on your lips sending a bolt of desire through me, "I've worked so hard, and sometimes it feels like it's all for nothing."

"Never," I said fiercely, my hand tightening on your hip. "Your work, your dedication, it's not just noticed—it's etched into the very fabric of this world. The mark you've left on science, on the minds of those who dare to dream of a better tomorrow, it's permanent."

My thumb pressed into your skin, resonating with each beat of your pulse beneath it, a soft whine falls from your lips,. "You're not just a professor, not just a researcher," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "Your work is etched into the very fabric of this world, and it will never be forgotten. You are unforgettable."

The memory of the undercity bar, the sound of your laughter, the way your hips had swayed in that dress, it all came rushing back. You had been mine all along, and now, in this moment of vulnerability, the truth was laid bare. The word "mine" echoed through my mind, a feral growl of possession that I hadn't felt since the days when the undercity was all I knew.

As the haze of the past cleared, my grip on your waist tightened, my thumb pressing harder into your skin as the reality of your words hit me like a blow. You were in pain, feeling lost and unseen, and all I wanted was to be the one to show you how wrong you were. You were so much more than you thought, so much more than the sum of your fears and doubts.

The control that I had held onto so tightly began to slip away as the word "mine" reverberated through my mind like the tolling of a bell. I had tried to keep my desires buried beneath layers of academic decorum, but in the face of your vulnerability, I was undone. My thumb pressed into your skin, the word "unforgettable" now a brand of ownership in my mind, as the possessiveness I had felt in the bar grew.

You leaned into my touch that I hadn't cared to realize I tightened, your breath catching as you looked down at me, your eyes filled with a mix of amusement and something darker, something that mirrored the hunger in my gaze. "You do remember," you said with a laugh, the sound of it like a siren's song.

I looked up at you, my pupils blown wide with desire. The control I had so carefully cultivated around you, the walls I had built to keep my feelings at bay, were crumbling like ancient ruins before an unstoppable force. The room spun around us, the only anchor the beat of your pulse under my thumb.

"Of course I do," I murmured, my voice thick with need. "How could I forget, what's mine?" I leaned in, my dark smile growing as I licked a slow, deliberate path along the edge of your underwear, tracing the line of your hip where the ink met your skin. The taste of you, the scent of you, it was intoxicating.

With a gentle bite to the sensitive flesh of your hip, I whispered, "You're mine." The words were a declaration, a promise, and a threat all rolled into one, and as you shivered in response, I knew you felt the gravity of them. Your pupils dilated with desire, the same emotion that was raging through me like a tempest.

"Say it," I demanded, my voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the very air around us. "Tell me you're mine."

You looked at me, the playfulness in your eyes replaced by a smoldering heat. "Viktor," you breathed, your voice a caress that sent a shiver down my spine. "I am yours."

It was like a dam had burst within me. The control I had fought so hard to maintain shattered into a million pieces, leaving in its wake a primal need to claim you, to make you scream my name as you climaxed. My hand slid up to the waistband of your underwear, and with a swift tug, I exposed your nakedness to my eager gaze.

"Viktor," you gasped as I leaned in, my mouth closing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, your legs spread wide before me. The taste of you was intoxicating, the sweetness of your arousal a siren's call that I couldn't resist. My tongue traced the path my thumb had taken moments before, each touch sending a jolt of pleasure through your body that had you writhing against me.

As I kissed my way up to the apex of your thighs, you whispered my name, your voice a mix of desperation and need. "V," you pleaded, your breath hot against my ear, "make me yours."

The words were like a key unlocking the floodgates of my restraint. I could feel the urges I had kept caged for so long breaking free, the need to claim you, to show you who you truly belonged to, coursing through my veins like liquid fire.

My finger trailed over the slick wetness between your legs, the sound of your gasp echoing through the room like the sweetest symphony. "Look at you," I murmured, a smirk playing on my lips as I took in the sight of your arousal. "So eager, so needy. You really are a whore for me, aren't you?"

The word "whore" hung in the air like a challenge, a dirty, beautiful word that sent a shiver of excitement through your body. You squirmed under my gaze, your cheeks flushing a delicious shade of red.

But instead of protest, a low, needy moan slipped from your lips as I teased you, my finger grazing over the slick folds of your sex through your panties, the ones you wore just for me.

The sound was like music to my ears, a sweet symphony of desire that only served to fuel my own. Your hips bucked involuntarily, trying to chase my touch, and I couldn't help but laugh darkly at your eagerness.

"Look how wet you are for me," I murmured, the smugness in my voice unmistakable as I felt the heat of your arousal seep through the fabric of your panties. My finger drew a lazy circle around the spot that made your breath hitch, the fabric growing damper by the second. "It's like you're begging for it."

Your eyes widened, a mix of shock and pleasure as I chuckled darkly. "V…," you protested weakly, though the arch of your back and the way your legs fell open wider spoke volumes.

"Don't bother," I said, a wicked smile playing on my lips as I pulled your underwear to the side. "You can't hide from me." My finger continued its dance, now sliding over your slick skin, teasing your clit with feather-light touches that had you gasping and squirming beneath me. "You're so eager, so desperate for my touch."

Your eyes snapped to mine, a challenge in their depths. "Is that what you think?" you whispered, your voice a challenge. But the way your hips rocked into my hand told me the truth, and the smell of your arousal was like a drug, making my head spin and my cock throb.

"You're so wet, so ready," I taunted, my voice dropping to a growl as I watched you react to my every touch. "Tell me how much you want me."

Your eyes fluttered shut, your voice a breathy moan as my finger found the spot that made your toes curl. The sound of your need filled the room, a symphony of desire that had my cock straining against my pants. You were so wet for me, and the smug satisfaction that filled me was like a drug.

"Please," you begged, your voice a whimper that sent a shiver down my spine. But I wasn't done teasing you, not yet. I leaned in closer, my breath hot against your skin as I whispered, "What do you want, my little whore?"

You arched your back, pushing yourself closer to my touch. "You," you moaned, the word a desperate plea that had my pulse racing. "I want you."

With a chuckle, I slipped my finger inside you, feeling the warmth of your desire clench around me. You gasped, your eyes flying open to meet mine, filled with a mix of shock and pleasure. "

"See?" I murmured, my voice a dark purr of satisfaction. "You're begging for it, aren't you?"

Your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red as you tried to push down the embarrassment. Whining in protest, your voice a breathless whisper that sent shivers down my spine. But your body betrayed you, arching into my touch, silently begging for more.

"So wet," I repeated, my thumb now circling your clit in a steady rhythm as my finger pumped in and out of you. "So desperate." Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, and I could feel the tension building in your body. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?"

Your eyes snapped to mine, a mix of anger and desire in their depths. "Viktor," you warned, your voice a whip crack in the quiet room.

"No," I said, my voice firm as I continued my relentless assault on your clit. "that isn't how you address me, you know that love,"

Your eyes widened, the challenge in them flickering before being replaced by a mix of lust and submission. "Sir," you corrected, your voice a breathy whine that had me smirking in victory.

"Much better," I said, my voice a dark promise as I added another finger, stretching you around me. You were so tight, so warm, and the way you clenched around me was like a fist to my heart. I could feel the tension coiling tighter.

Your breath was coming in short, sharp gasps now, your eyes locked onto mine as I picked up the pace, my thumb circling your clit in a relentless rhythm. "Sir...," you moaned, the sound like a sweet symphony of need that had me fighting to keep from losing control. But I had to claim you, all of you, in this moment.

With a final, hard press of my thumb, I watched as your orgasm crashed over you, your body tightening around my fingers as you screamed my name. The sound of your pleasure was like a battle cry, echoing through the room and sending shockwaves of desire through my body. But before you could fully come down from your high, I pulled my hand away, licking the sweetness of your arousal from my fingers with a smug smirk.

The taste of you was intoxicating, a heady mix of salt and sweetness that made me crave more. It was like a drug, a delicacy that I hadn't had the pleasure of indulging in before. My eyes never left yours as I savored the flavor, watching the way your pupils dilated with every slow lick.

"I apologize for not taking my time," I said, the words a dark promise as I leaned over you. "But I need you, sweetness."

You nodded, eyes glazed with pleasure, your swollen lips parted in a silent plea for more. The sight of you, sprawled out on the bed, had me aching with a need that was almost painful. My hands moved to my waist, unbuckling my pants with a swiftness that was almost violent. The sound of the leather protesting, like a gunshot in the quiet room, echoing through the air like a declaration of war.

I stepped out of my pants, my cock springing free, thick and hard with desire for you. The fabric of my boxers strained against my erection, a testament to the depth of my need for you. You watched with hooded eyes, your chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, your own arousal evident in the way your breasts heaved.

With a predatory grace, I moved over you, my knees pushing your legs wider apart. You didn't protest, didn't say a word, just nodded, your eyes glassy with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

The sight of your swollen lips and the soft gasp that escaped when you caught a glimpse of my cock straining against my boxers sent a bolt of pure desire through me. I knew what you needed, what we both needed, and I was more than ready to give it to you. Oh but look at you, I thought, what's another few minutes..

Pulling myself to you, my mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was all fire and heat, the taste of your arousal still lingering on my tongue. Our tongues fighting together, which seemed to go on forever, our breaths mingling as I explored every inch of your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating against my lips and sending a shiver down my spine.

As we broke apart, I took a moment to appreciate the sight before me. Your bra was a thing of beauty, a delicate scrap of fabric held together at the front, that had barely contained the perfection that was your breasts. With a flick of my wrist, I undid the clasp, and the garment fell away, revealing you to me in all your glory.

Your breasts spilled out, hardening under my gaze. I took one in my mouth, suckling gently as you gasped, your hands threading into my hair. The taste of your arousal still lingered on my lips mixing with the sweetness of your skin, causing me to groan against you.

You were so responsive, your body arching into my touch, your nails digging into my scalp as I kissed and licked my way down your neck, my teeth grazing against your collarbone.

Your breath hitched as my hands slid down to the waistband of my boxers, and with a swift tug, they were gone. My cock sprang free, hot and heavy with the need for you. I positioned myself between your legs, my knees pressing into the bed, and with one hand, I guided the tip of my cock to your slick entrance.

The anticipation was palpable, the air thick with the scent of our desire. With every shallow thrust, you could feel the head of my cock teasing your entrance, the velvety heat of you begging for more. I watched as your eyes rolled back in your head, a soft mewl escaping your lips with every pass, the sound like a symphony to my ears.

My hand found your neck, gently squeezing as I whispered, "Look at me." Your gaze snapped to mine, the hunger in your eyes matching my own. "You're mine," I said, the words a declaration that sent a shiver down your spine.

As I pushed into you, the sensation was overwhelming. You were so tight, so hot, like nothing I had ever felt before. It was like coming home, like finding the missing piece of myself that I had been searching for all my life. Your walls stretched around me, welcoming me in with a sweet embrace that was more than I could've ever hoped for.

The stretch, the feeling of you around me, consuming me in a way that nothing ever could. Your eyes widened, a silent gasp escaping as I filled you completely, and I watched as the pleasure painted your features, a masterpiece that was solely mine to behold.

Your nails dug into my back, leaving white-hot trails of pain that only served to heighten the pleasure. The sound of your wetness was like a siren's call, a sweet symphony of desire that had me fighting to keep my pace slow, to savor every second of this moment.

"Please...," you breathed, the sound of your voice like a sweet caress against my skin. But I wasn't done speaking, not yet.

"You're so tight," I murmured, my voice thick with lust as I felt every inch of you squeeze around me. "So perfect."

With a smirk, I began to move, my hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you arching up to meet me, your nails digging into the flesh of my back. "Is this what you want, sweetness?" I taunted, my voice low and gruff. "Me, claiming you, making you scream my name?"

Your response was a whimper, your eyes glazed with a mix of pleasure and desperation. "Yes," you whispered, the word barely audible. "More."

I chuckled, the sound dark and possessive as I leaned down, my mouth brushing against your ear. "You want more?" I whispered, the words a promise and a threat all in one. "Beg for it."

Your breath hitched, your body trembling beneath me. "Please," you whimpered, the word a needy plea that had me smiling against your skin. "More, sir."

The way you said "sir", whining so desperately for me, was like a knife to my restraint, the last thread snapping under the weight of your need. My hips began to move faster, my cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, filthy sound that had us both gasping.

"You're mine," I said, the words a declaration that seemed to echo through the room. "Mine to take, mine to use."

Your moans grew louder as I picked up the pace, my cock driving into you with a fervor that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room. "That's it," I murmured, my voice a dark purr in your ear, "Take it all, my sweet little whore."

The sound of my voice, thick with desire and command, seemed to resonate through your body, causing your walls to tighten around me. My grip on your neck tightened only slightly, a silent demand for your absolute surrender, and you gave it to me without hesitation, your eyes rolling back in your head as I filled you completely.

My hips snapped against yours, the force of my thrusts pushing you into the mattress, the sound of our bodies colliding a symphony of passion that seemed to echo through the room. "Look at you," I murmured, my voice low and smug, "Begging for me to fuck you harder."

Your breath hitched, and you whimpered my name, the sound like a sweet curse on your lips. My other hand slid up to cup your breast, my thumb flicking over the hardened peak as I watched you come apart under me.

"You like that, don't you slut?" I whispered, my voice a dark promise as I pushed deeper. "You like it when I talk dirty to you, when I tell you what a good little whore you are." Your eyes snapped to mine, the challenge in them fading into pure, unbridled lust.

With each word, I could feel you tightening around me, your pussy gripping my cock like a vice, as if you were trying to milk every drop of pleasure out of me. "Yes," you breathed, your voice a tremulous whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.

My grip on your neck tightened more, the thrill of power coursing through me as I watched the way your eyes rolled back in ecstasy. "You're so beautiful," I rasped, my voice low and gruff, the sound of my own need echoing in the room. "So fucking beautiful when you come apart for me."

I leaned back, taking in the sight of my cock disappearing into you, the way your pussy clung to me, begging for more. "You're so wet," I said, my voice a dark whisper that seemed to resonate through the room. "So fucking wet, like a river around me."

My hips slammed into you, the sound of our bodies meeting a sweet symphony that seemed to block out everything else. "Look at you," I growled, "taking it all, like the good little slut you are." Your cheeks flushed a delicious shade of pink at the words, your eyes snapping to mine with a mix of anger and arousal that only spurred me on.

Your walls tightened around me, a silent plea for release, and I knew you were close. "Come for me," I demanded, my voice a dark command that seemed to vibrate through your body. "Come on my cock, show me how much you need this."

With a final, brutal thrust, I felt your body shatter around me, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave. Your nails dug into my back, leaving deep, red marks that I knew would bruise and ache for days. The sound of your pleasure was like a siren's call, a sweet symphony of desperation that had me groaning your name.

Your pussy spasmed around me, the sensation like nothing I had ever felt before. "Fuck," I whispered, the word torn from my chest as I felt the beginnings of my own release. "You're so tight, so fucking tight."

As your orgasm began to fade, I slowed my pace, my cock still buried deep within you. I leaned down, my mouth hovering just above yours, my breath hot against your lips. "Again," I murmured, the word a dark promise. "I want to feel you come on my cock again."

Your eyes searched mine, a silent question that had me smiling in victory. "Do it," I said, my voice a gentle command, "make yourself come for me, sweetness."

Your pussy tightens around my length, as you begin to grind into me, setting the rhythm of our hips. The sound of your wetness filled the room, a sweet symphony that had my blood pumping faster. I watched as your hand slipped between us as you touched yourself, the way your eyes fluttered closed and your cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red.

Your fingers danced over your clit, the little nub swollen and begging for attention, and I couldn't help but lean down to kiss you again. The taste of you was addictive, a drug that I never wanted to live without. Your breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as you worked yourself closer to the edge, your hand moving faster, your hips rising to meet me.

The sight of you, so lost in pleasure, so beautifully shameless was like nothing I had ever seen before. The way your breasts bounced with each movement, the way your stomach tightened and your back arched, it was a masterpiece that I could've watched for hours. But I had to be a part of this, had to feel the sweet release that was building within you.

My hand found yours, my fingers entwining with yours as we worked in tandem, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. I felt your pussy spasm around me, the tight grip of your orgasm almost painful, and it was like nothing I had ever felt before. You were so close, so close to coming again, and the power of it was intoxicating.

With every stroke of your hand, I pushed into you harder, my cock swelling with the promise of release. "Come for me," I rasped, my voice a dark demand that seemed to echo through the room. "I want to feel you come apart around me."

Your breath grew ragged, your eyes squeezed shut as you chased your climax. "I'm close," you whimpered, your voice a sweet symphony of need that had me groaning. "please, sir...."

The feeling of your pussy clenching around me, the way your body was trembling with the force of your need was like a drug, a high that I never wanted to come down from. "Come," I whispered again, my voice a dark command that seemed to resonate through your very soul.

And then it was there, the sweet release that had been building for what felt like an eternity. With a scream that seemed to shake the room, you came apart in my arms, your pussy spasming around my cock in a delicious symphony of pleasure. Your nails dug into my shoulders, your legs tightening around my waist as you rode out the waves of your climax.

My own orgasm washed over me, a tsunami of pleasure that seemed to rip through every inch of my being. I could feel my cock pulsing within you, my hot release filling you, marking you as mine. The sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before, a heady mix of power and ecstasy that had me groaning your name against the softness of your neck.

We remained like that for a moment, our bodies trembling in the aftermath, our hearts pounding in a frantic rhythm that seemed to match the beat of a drum. The sweat-slicked between us, a testament to the passion that had just unfolded between us. Our breaths were ragged, mingling in the air as we both tried to come down from the high.

Slowly, I pulled out, the feeling of you clinging to me, the warmth of your pussy like a glove around my softening cock was almost painful. But it was a pain that I reveled in, a sweet agony that reminded me of the power I held over you. Your legs fell open, your pussy glistening with the proof of your desire, and I couldn't help but admire the sight.

You collapsed against me, your body a boneless mess in my arms. The warmth of your skin against mine was like a brand, searing the memory of this moment into my very soul. Your breath was warm and fast against my chest, your heart hammering like a rabbit's, and I knew that you were feeling the same mix of emotions that were coursing through me.

I wrapped my arms around you, holding you close as the aftershocks of our passion continued to ripple through us. Your head lolled against my shoulder, your eyes closed, and for a brief moment, the world outside this room ceased to exist. It was just you and me, our bodies tangled together in a mess of limbs, our breaths mingling in the humid air.

As your breathing slowly evened out, my cock softened, slipping from your warm embrace, leaving a trail of cum between us. The scent of sex hung heavy in the air, a heady perfume that seemed to cling to our skin, a reminder of the intimate dance we had just shared. I could feel the stickiness of it on my stomach, a sweet reminder of your surrender to me.

Your chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm, the soft puffs of air against my neck sending shivers down my spine. Your body was a delicate, sweat-slicked canvas, a masterpiece of passion that I had been privileged to paint. Each tremble, each gasp was a testament to the power I held over you, a power that seemed to grow with every touch, every shared moment of pleasure.

Our skin was a patchwork of dampness, the sweat that had beaded along your spine now mingling with mine. The feel of your bare breasts pressed against my chest was intoxicating, the softness of your flesh a stark contrast to the firmness of my own body.

With a gentle smile, I kissed you once more, a soft press of my lips to yours, the taste of your passion still lingering. "Thank you," I whispered, the words a benediction, a declaration of victory and surrender all rolled into one. "For letting me have you like this."

You blinked up at me, your eyes still hazed with the afterglow of pleasure. "Thank you," you murmured, the words a soft echo of my own, a gentle acknowledgment of the power I held over you. "For...for making me feel so...happy...."

I chuckled, the sound low and deep in my chest, a rumble that seemed to resonate through the room. "Always, sweetness," I murmured, kissing you once more.

But the moment was short-lived, the reality of our situation crashing back into the room like a tidal wave. The academy, our responsibilities, the fact that we had just crossed a line that could never be uncrossed. I knew that we couldn't stay here, tangled in the sheets, forever.

With a sigh, I pulled away from you, my body already mourning the loss of your warmth. I stood, the cold air of the room hitting my sweat-soaked skin like a slap, and began to dress, my movements efficient and swift. "We can't do this again," I said, the words a heavy weight in my chest.

You sat up, your eyes wide and confused, your cheeks still flushed with the remnants of passion. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice small and vulnerable.

Turning to face you, I took in the sight of you, naked and beautiful, the evidence of our love-making still glistening on your thighs. "I mean," I began, my voice gruff, "that this can't happen again."

You stared at me, the hurt in your eyes like a knife to my soul. "What, why?" you whispered, the question a plea that I had no answer for.

"Because it's not right," I said, my voice firm despite the tremble in my chest. "We're mentor and student, you're Heimerdinger's protege, and I'm...I'm just a professor."

The words hung in the air like a noose, tightening around my neck with each syllable. I knew that what we had just done was wrong, that it could ruin everything we had worked so hard for. But as I watched the tears begin to spill down your cheeks, I also knew that I didn't want to lose you.

"I can't," I continued, my voice softer now, "I can't risk losing you."

You wiped at your eyes, a sad smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "You won't," you said, the conviction in your voice unshakable. "I'll always be here, i’m yours…."

But as I watched you, the love in your eyes, the trust in your voice, I knew that it was a promise I couldn't keep. "You don't understand," I said, my voice breaking. "This isn't just about us, it's about our futures, about what's right and what's wrong."

You nodded, the understanding in your eyes making my heart ache. "I know," you said, your voice a mere whisper. "But sometimes, Viktor, you have to take a chance, I did..."

I stared at you, the weight of your words like a boulder on my chest. You took the chance...

Could we really risk it all for this? The line we had crossed was thick and indelible, a stark reminder of the boundaries we had shattered. But as your eyes searched mine, filled with fierce determination, I knew that the choice had already been made for us. We were in this together, for better or worse.

"We'll figure it out," I murmured, the words barely leaving my lips as I reached out to brush away the tears that clung to your lashes. The love in your eyes was a siren's call, a promise that I couldn't resist. I knew that I couldn't walk away from this, not now, not after feeling you shatter around me, not after feeling your love in every inch of my being.

"But," I added, my voice firm despite the tumult of emotions that raged within me, "we have to be careful." We had to find a way to navigate the treacherous waters of our newfound relationship without capsizing the ships of our careers and reputations. "We can't let anyone know, not yet."

You nodded, the understanding in your gaze a balm to my frayed nerves. We would keep our secret, our love a hidden treasure that we would share only in the shadows, a guilty pleasure that we could never reveal to the world above.

As we dressed, the air thick with the scent of sex and the unspoken promise of future encounters, I knew that we had set ourselves on a path that was fraught with danger and temptation. But as I watched you pull on your shirt, the fabric clinging to your damp skin, I knew it was a path I was willing to walk...

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