#sorry it took so long in between installments | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

st4rbwrry · 4 days

Text

𝒜𝑀 𝐼 𝐵𝒜𝐵𝒴?

✧｡˚ a shy nympho camgirl seeks a partner to help her film content on a dating app. soon, meeting up with a handsome man who's willing to do anything for the pretty girl he chats with.

𝒲𝒜𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒮 𓇼 14k. pwp, lowercase intended, age gap ꒰ toji is 36, reader is 24 ꒱ submissive reader, pleasure!dom toji, bondage ꒰ belt ꒱, check ins, heavy praise, overstimulation, aftercare, unprotected, videography, oral ꒰ f + m ꒱ , squirting + kreaming, spanking, choking, hair pulling, mild degradation, intimacy on high, toji is intimidating, manhandling, masturbation, daddy kink srry not srry, pet names ꒰ baby, girl, pretty, sweetheart, angel ꒱ minors aren't welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated!

౨ৎ — ꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 ꒱: this took me so long to finish y'all but im super proud of it. one of my favorite works so far so i hope y’all enjoy. ♡

you hold your notebook in your hands, a bright pink color with numerous doodles sketched onto its cover, your pen on the back of your ear as you slowly cross off a list of things you needed to buy while browsing on your laptop. your room is quiet aside from the soft sound of music playing from your stereo, beyoncé’s cowboy carter album playing from start to finish while you slumped into your soft pink duvet hiding beneath a white canopy slip. the air is crisp how you like, a fresh, chunky strawberry is chewed between teeth, and your skin is freshly scrubbed and moisturized, only covered in a matcha green two piece short and tank set. a laptop sits on your thighs as you cross your legs, twirling your left calf as you bury your back into your mountain of plushies.

this was frustrating. you never realized how hard this would be to find someone to fuck, let alone film content with. you’d made a profile on hinge a week prior to now, and most of the matches weren’t close to peaking your interest. most of the men seemed like creeps, some too old . . . giving very much grim reaper. and others, too young, freshly adults at that. you think you’ve made yourself appealing enough. cute profile with full faced pictures, personality traits, daily interests even . . . but it somehow didn’t attract those you truly wanted.

as your sticker covered macbook’s motherboard screamed for air, warm on your thighs and now sliding on your tummy the further you leaned back. . . you were growing tired. huffing and puffing from literal exhaustion. am i wasting my time? should i just go out and find people like in the movies? but this generation made it so hard to even physically connect anymore. what happened to people running into each other at a coffee shop, a book store, a park? sharing interests and going on dates. granted, what you were looking for was strictly work related. you wouldn’t dare stare a stranger in the eye you bumped into at the farmers market and ask, “hey, wanna fuck me for content?” it’d be tasteless. you have self respect. others may think differently considering your side quests to fund the unfathomable reality of adulthood on top of just being a girl.

“this fucking sucks,” you groan to yourself, thumb aching from how quickly you hit the big ‘x’ on the bottom left corner of your phone screen.

maybe it was time to call it a night. you had an early shift at the salon, about five clients to be exact, booking either re-twists, goddess braids, or a wig install. so you had to save your hand strength. sighing, you shut off your laptop and set it aside on your nightstand, disconnecting the music from your phone before getting up to cut off the light. your fluffy cat that laid on the edge of your bed shooting her head up in alarm, ready to follow at any adventure you pursued.

“relax, mommy’s not going anywhere,” you smile assuredly, knee dipping into the bed as you lean over to smooch her on her tiny head, pointy ears tickling your cheek as you watch her tail sway. “good night, sweet — oh, fuck! i forgot to feed you. i’m so sorry baby.”

the alert in your tone has the black cat stand in attention, cursing to yourself as you slip on your heart printed slippers and make your way towards the kitchen, your studio apartment being on one level making this task easier. you listen to her tiny paws thud on the floor after she jumps off the bed in a hurry, dashing in front of you, damn near tripping you.

“oh my god, you’re so extra,” you shake your head, but couldn’t help but laugh. she meows at you violently, as if you hadn’t fed her in two weeks. rolling your eyes, you reach for her bowl off the floor to clean before opening a fresh can of fancy feast, using one of her plastic spoons to arrange her dinner.

whilst she awaits, you can’t help but glare at the screen of your phone as it suddenly dings, forgetting to turn off your ringer. hovering over it to activate your face i.d, it immediately opens the hinge app, reloading the page to see a new match. the air you inhaled suddenly catches in your throat as you stare wide eyed at your screen, the man in your view is just what you’ve been waiting for.

“oh, holy fuck,” comprehension wasn’t on your radar seeming as you lost the ability of the cat food in your hand, dropping it to the floor and flinching from the mess your fur baby began chowing on. sucking your teeth, you mutter, “goddamit. no, no. stop it.”

flailing your hand gently to get her to stop, you snatch the can and dump the remainder in the deep oval ceramic bowl. you try to ignore the rapid pounding of your heartbeat, unsure why it went so astray. maybe it’s because you’ve never seen a man so fucking fine. deadly fine, foul almost. as if it was such a disrespect to all beings. she’d cleaned up her own mess, so you take the time to grab your phone and lean against the sink to observe this man further. he had matched with you, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have been so depressed a few minutes ago . . . unless you were waiting for him to like you back.

toji. it’s his name. simple, nice. he only has about three pictures, one of them a huge black cane corso with a gorgeous silky coat. it made sense given the vibe he was giving. dark, intimidating, sexy. jet black hair, slender smoke gray eyes, sharp jaw and a fascinating scar on the side of his mouth. another thing you noticed was how big he was. most of the clothing he wears sticks to his skin like glue. molding the outline of his muscles, the thickness in his arms, the heaviness in his thighs, the brick trail of his abdomen.

a certain feeling burns in your chest, and between your legs as you scroll to see the last image. he’s sitting on a beach chair, thighs spread in black cargo pants, matching tee, a yuengling beer in his hand and a cross dangling around his neck as he takes a sip of his beverage with a hungry look into the camera. it’s cocky, possessive, dominant. the dark brows above his eyes lowered with attentiveness. his shirt is half risen above his abdomen, and you can easily see the dark trail of hair leading into his crotch. it’s full there, clear as day. so it’s easy to tell he carries something serious.

fuck. “fuck,” you feel yourself growing hot, blowing out a breath of air before making your way back to your comfy bed to stare at him more. what a fucking man. honestly, you’d never seen someone so of your standard. exactly your type. before messaging him, you check his profile a bit deeper to make sure you’re not mistaken of anything. find some flaws, though profiles only express so much.

thirty-six, that makes you moan. that’s a twelve year age difference. though that only makes him hotter. not too old, nor young. he’s a . . . gynecologist.

“so he’s good with pussy,” you giggle to yourself. he makes a decent amount of money. he’s into fitness, clearly. cars, politics, sports. seemed like a pretty laid back man to you.

without even realizing, he had already messaged you, your heart dropping to your toes at his first response.

toji

i’ve seen you before.

you blink, fingers typing quickly.

you

mhm, where?

he takes a moment to reply, so you fiddle with your necklace out of anxiousness, laying on your stomach and swaying your feet.

toji

sounds a little embarrassing, but an adult website.

you

sounds about right. does that bother you?

toji

i wouldn’t have matched with you if it had.

you

so you’re saying if i wasn’t a porn streamer you wouldn’t even look my way?

those three dots prolong longer than you wanted, only making you aware he didn’t know what to say.

toji

i matched with you because i find you attractive. whether you want me in that way or not is up to you. i want you.

he’s straightforward. you can’t help but bite the tip of your acrylic, smiling like a stupid teenager, kicking your feet in the air. the attraction being mutual boosting your ego.

“i want you, daddy,” you joke to yourself.

you

i’m assuming you’ve read my bio. i’m looking for someone to film content with! if you’re down for it, we can meet in person and talk about it! i’m not really looking for a relationship. . . right now at least. ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

toji

of course, sweetheart. i’m free saturday’s and sunday’s. you don’t seem that far from me. let’s grab italian. my treat.

there’s something blunt and grown about him, you can practically feel his intimidation radiating through your fingertips. he seems just like the kind of man you knew would fuck you stupid. scream his name until the walls bled. until you’re trembling, and the sheets are off the bed, and his sweat is on your back so arched to the point where it’s painfully delicious. biting your lip, you had nothing else to lose. you needed his help, he’s offering lunch, you only live once.

you

you had me at italian. saturday at 2?

toji

saturday at 2. see you then, darling.

𓇼

the nostalgic scent of blue magic hair grease fills the air of the salon, your fingers working tirelessly to intricate detail into the woman’s scalp you worked on. your last client of the day in fact. you couldn’t wait to clock out and grab a bowl from chipotle, thinking about it your entire shift. fingers entwining artfully as braiding hair flicks from angle to angle, you finish up the final knotless braid with a hard working sigh. you tried to remain optimistic after she’d taken her seat, unfortunately arriving an hour late to her appointment. said she had ‘issues’ with her boyfriend, smelling like weed and partially slurring her words when she came in. but you could care less when you were on a time crunch.

you hated when people wouldn’t respect the clearly listed rules on your account. so, for that, she’d be paying a late fee. after you applied moose and rosemary oil to her scalp, she’d pay you through apple pay and be on her way. you thank her, and when she’s out the door, you instantly turn to your friend and roll your eyes.

“you’re too damn nice for doing her hair. i would’ve told her ass to kick rocks after showing up that damn late,” amethyst speaks, crosslegged and shaking her head as she digs her fork into her chinease platter, filled to the brim with shrimp fried rice and popcorn chicken. the smell alone makes your tummy growl. “did she even tip you?”

“not at all,” you brush off, not even wanting to think about it anymore. “still got my money at the end of the day.“

“hey, you’ve been off the whole day, everything alright?” amethyst proceeds to question, and your shoulders slump as you halt from sweeping up hair off the floor.

aside from tireless appointments, you couldn’t get toji out of your mind, super impatient, even anxious for saturday to come. it’s two days away until you finally meet him. you’ve texted here and there, shared a few updates on life or spoke of relating passions and wanting desires. you had told him your occupation outside of being a camgirl, and how dissatisfied with it you’ve become. this field wasn’t for you anymore. the passion for it is dying, the clients grow irritable, and you just wanted to breathe. you feel like you’ve been working your whole life. in conclusion, since fifteen. started from an early age dealing with responsibilities due to financial constraints within your family. your mother raised you on her own, along with four other children. and being cursed with the older daughter syndrome, you developed faster than you wanted to. barely having time to live your life until you moved out. even then, it’s been all about work. you needed an island getaway.

“this week just burnt me out. i’m just glad it’s almost over,” you reply, not having the energy for a full conversation. she was a sweet girl, albeit very nosey. you try to keep events in your life private, gossip to a minimum.

“awe, bookie,” she pouts. “what’s your plan for tomorrow? me and the girls were gonna check out that new club ‘sin.’”

shaking your head, you disagree. “now you know i’m not big on clubs. have an art piece to work on anyways before the weekend comes. so i’ll be busy.”

amethyst nods. “well, alright then. i guess i’ll just see you whenever you get booked again.”

you don’t know why that felt like a backhanded response. you’re only here three times out of the week, and most of those days you see about five to six clients. everyone else had a bigger following on social media, meaning more attention, more money. you believe because you aren’t so passionate for this major, your ability to promote and put effort only shows in your adult entertainment career. since it’s where most of your income comes from as of four months ago.

“guess i’ll see you.”

after packing your ballerina pink telfar bag with all of your tools, you wave goodbye to everyone before making your way to your white honda civic, interior a vast splash of pink matching the two-piece skims set you wore. shorts since the weather is about seventy-five degrees today. buckling yourself in, your only agenda is to head to chipotle and then home. ordering your delectable signature bowl of barbacoa, fajita veggies, guacamole, pico de gallo, corn, sour cream, cheese, lettuce, and refusing to eat the bowl without their vinaigrette and a side of chips.

it’s around 9pm when you’re finally cleaned off from a hot shower, curly hair pushed back from your face with a hello kitty headband as you finish your skincare, sitting at your vanity while scandal plays in the background. you’d already eaten your food about an hour ago, even taking a thirty minute nap to regenerate for this art piece you needed to finish. in total, you had about three jobs; hair stylist, camgirl, ceramicist. you had an etsy profile where people bought cute little things of yours you liked to sculpt. tea pots, coquette flower pots, plates, heart cake jewelry boxes . . you name it. you had a few orders for mini miffy trinkets you had to ship out by saturday.

saturday. the warmth in your gut swarms at the thought of seeing that man. quite frankly, you’ve been unable to relieve your mind of him. he’s like a poison, hard to get rid of, but desperate to stay bonded with you. and you wanted nothing more than to be buried in his embrace; small and fucked out. since he’s been busy with work, and so have you, there hasn’t been much time to even call and chat. then again, you wanted to wait to see him in person. to feel that magnetism stronger than it already was. two days away and you’re anxious to even hear a hello.

while patting your toner into your face, you gaze through your mirror to see a scene playing from your show where fitz and olivia fight before they fuck for the hundredth time. the way he grabs her, speaks to her, caresses her and worships her. it has you thinking of toji instantly. the burn for him aching more than normal. practically feeling his eyes on you the way he stared into the camera in that one photo, long fingers clasped around the glass bottle, craving for that lock around your throat. wondering how tight he’d make it. would you be able to breathe? would he kiss air into your mouth to help you? tell you it’s okay, to feel it all, to take it all, to cum on his dick till you're milking him dry?

your thighs squeeze together from your imagination, staring at your reflection . . . and it’s all in your eyes. deep arousal, and the harsh clench you currently held your moisturizer in, close to grinding in your seat to ease the buzz of your clit. there’s only one solution for this, and you might as well make money off it. standing to your feet, you think not a second more before retrieving your laptop from your closet, setting it on your vanity desk and logging into the domain of prettyfuckbunnies.com. it seemed to be the main site for growth, given your eight thousand dedicated subscribers. you check yourself in the mirror once more before going live, rolling your chair back a few inches so they could see your entire frame. dressed in nothing but a small red slip dress.

angelbwrry is live!

your subscribers were notified well before others, hundreds of them swarming the chat within seconds. you were a new favorite, a prized star of the platform. admiration from both women and men. people who tipped you just for being pretty. others here for the obvious. applying gloss to your lips, you stare intensely into the camera, the character you play going into affect.

“hi,” you mutter quietly, slowly titling your head to the side as you bite your lip and sink lower into your seat, back arching. “i’m so fucking horny, and i just need someone to watch me fuck myself.”

the black kuromi chair you sat in begins to sway as you gently swing yourself side to side, eyes trained on the chat to witness them praise you, some comments degrading off the rip that you chose to ignore, others demanding you get on with it. for the most part, you tend to be discreet with sharing much about yourself. technically, you weren’t hiding much, your face easily accessible and probably even less hard to track. you’d always pray that there wasn’t a psycho willing to go that far just to find you. role playing was your forte. writing ideas for new personas to please them. and you had fun doing it. you’d never do something you weren’t in to for the satisfaction of others. never took private calls, or meets ups for obvious reasons.

but, you had to talk about him.

“i met this guy i can’t get outta my head,” the softness in your tone making dicks go erect and clits beat, the chat asking questions and growing fond of your way of interaction. “well, maybe not met. we’ve texted, and i meet him in a few days. possibly someone you’ll see on the channel. and . . .”

the tenseness in toji’s neck bothers him as he groans and leans back into his office’s chair, fork in one hand as he chews on his salad from sweetgreen a coworker grabbed for him, reading through emails his secretary confirmed appointments of, needing to add it into his schedule to be aware of what he can fit between. needing to run a few errands this weekend. the white doctors coat clings to his body, one foot raised to rest on the front of his desk, manspreading and jaw shifting as he finishes his food tiredly, knowing he wouldn’t eat a thing once he got home.

“goodnight doctor fushiguro! get some rest tonight, yeah?” a body comes to view of his secretary; a woman with glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose, a chunky face and beautiful red hair. she waves enthusiastically.

toji smiles, the older woman trying her best not to swoon. he’s young enough to be her son. “good night, miss thorn. thank you for today. you get home safe and enjoy your trip. i wanna hear all about it when you’re back.”

“you know you’re the first person i’m running to tell!” she chirps, toji chuckling. “i left my keys on the main desk. don’t forget or else you’ll have to break open the drawer for your patients files.”

“i’ll be sure to remember.”

twenty minutes pass and toji’s cutting off lights to his small facility and locking up. twirling the keys on his long finger, starting up the sleek black maserati ghibli gt sitting in the parking lot from his key. a black patent leather messenger bag hanging from his shoulder, doctors coat discarded and now attired in his usual black tee with matching slacks. setting it beside him in the passengers seat, he gets a ding! from his cellphone, resting his shoulders in his seat before checking what it was, perhaps it was miss thorn, she tends to leave things behind.

angelbwrry is going live!

toji raises a brow from the notification, checking the sapphire bulova watch on his wrist for the time. 9:54pm. why were you up so late? forgetting people have other schedules, he’s so used to being asleep around this time, much more having to be done today the only reason he was still in the office way past the hour it closed. part of him grows inquisitive, wondering if he should invade your privacy or what not. though, he’s not new to your escapades. he’s seen every inch of your body, memorizing it quite literally. he’s not ashamed to say you’ve gotten him off a few times these past months. he feels like he knows you on a deeper level now, so itching for that perverted behavior would be indecent to both of you. especially if he’s seeing you in two days . . . for a conversation about what you do and his potential participation.

nothing wrong with just watching, right?

as the engine to his car hums, toji finds himself in a devious act, clicking onto your feed and finding you displayed in your feminine bedroom. the videos on mute momentarily before he’s going full screen and turning his phone sideways. there you were, small and standing tall as the slip that barely clung to your body arose the more you moved. hips wide, thighs full, nipples taut and tits defying gravity. the strap on your right shoulder falls elegantly, your hair hoisted up by a claw clip and your brown skin radiating glow. the man openly groans from the sight, knowing you smelt so good.

“wait, i have an idea!” the cute tone of your voice blares through his phone, a smirk painting his stern features as he watches you scramble for something in your room, your slip riding up your ass. the hourglass shape of your body, to the pudge of your tummy . . he’s enamored.

he, and a thousand other people watch curiously as you lift the seven foot mirror that previously leaned against your closet door and position it on the floor at the edge of your bed. then, you’re digging into your bottom drawer for something else, toji catching a brief glance at the chat raving and thirsting from the view of your perky ass peaking out, a tiny birth mark under the left one. the cellulite in your legs that squish together from size, the stretch marks leading from beneath your ass cheeks down to the backs of your knees. so fucking soft.

“ta-da!” you wave the object in your hand courageously, an evil grin on your face as you show the crowd your confetti designed dildo, the brow on toji’s face raising. he almost wants to chuckle. you’re so silly, he thinks. watching you dance your way back towards the mirror where you hum a tune to yourself, swaying your ass in the air for dramatics before plunging your toy onto the center of the mirror so it sticks, watching it spring for attention.

“gonna pretend this is him, ‘till then. can’t wait any longer,” your hands slowly drift up your thighs to show your audience your bare pussy, hiding between those luscious thighs of yours. he wanted to suffocate his face there badly. what you say almost goes over his head. pretend who’s what?

toji ignores the flow of comments filling the chat, degrading you to some degree which he briefly clenches his jaw from, feeling somewhat protective. others praising you, acting like your cash pigs. pathetic, he thinks. he sees one comment in particular that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

prinxxxspeach

aren’t you seeing him saturday? call him now to come help you girl!!

don’t fucking call me, angel. i’ll nut in my pants right now if i hear you say my name. he’s slightly amused that you spoke of him. is that why you went live so late? thinking about him? so pent up, and impatient, you had to just fuck it out your system? he’d fuck you a lot better than that lousy toy you had, that’s for sure.

you giggle from the comment, contacts still in your sockets so you can read what people are saying from afar.

“he can wait for me. he’s making me wait,” it’s like an old film camera flipping to the next scene, or maybe his mind had gone blank from your response because now, now you’re sinking your tiny pussy onto your toy after coating it with lube, the reflection of your cunt for all to see in the mirror. watching as this toy splits you apart, pretty folds swallowing it deep as you balance yourself on the tips of your toes. fully sitting and rolling your hips to adjust, your mouth falls wide and a whimper escapes.

“nng, s’so deep,” that voice of yours is going to get you in trouble. the broken moans you release as you lift your hips to grind and bounce, face falling forward to look at yourself, seeing someone other than yourself. your imagination begins to run wild, and you forget a cameras watching you, dainty fingers caressing the mirror before laying your palm flat, as if you’re choking him. biting your lip, you occupy your other hand by molding at your chest.

you uphold your balance well, clapping your ass down against the mirror now coated with your slick, pussy squelching ridiculously loud aside from your weak moans and desperate whimpers.

“fuuck,” your breath hikes, sounds broken and almost pleading, eyes rolling back as you collapse to your knees and lazily rock back on your idea of a dick. by this point, toji’s eyes are malicious, and his dick is hard in his slacks. shifting in his seat uncomfortably from what you’ve done.

“lemme see your face,” toji whispers in the air, the heat rushing to his cheeks. the things you do to him truly fascinating.

“g’na cuum, mmph daddy!” a high pitched squeal you let out stuns him, your hips shifting back and forth hurriedly. the flesh of your ass moving like water, and he’s in a trance. daddy? what the fuck are you doing to him? he wonders if you knew he was going to purposely join your live. already talking about him gave it away.

“c’mon, angel. show me,” the blood swells in his cock rapidly, tip damn near dripping with precum, unable to help but palm his heavy hand with it, humming and widening his legs.

“too-jii,” it’s faint the words you falter, a pathetic whimper followed by drool covered lips and a cute squeak. your body trembles from the depth of your orgasm, riding out your high and giggling cutely to yourself. to others, the words were inaudible. but to him, he knew exactly what the fuck you said.

the way you smile at yourself in the mirror, as if you’re looking at his fucked out face, you slowly upturn your head to bring it back to the livestream, a drunken, and dangerous grin on your face. never in his years of life had a woman made him gulp. to fear for what you’d do to him. how bad you’d break him, make him go fucking crazy. yearn for your pussy on his mouth.

you were fucking ethereal.

𓇼

of-fucking-course you’d be running late. you were supposed to meet toji at two and it’s two thirty. the location of c’est moi exactly twenty five minutes away from where you lived. you were close to the downtown area, not fond of parking down there but you’d drive faster than an uber can. you made sure to make toji aware of your lateness so he’s not getting the idea that you stood him up. never. not after the other day. you don’t know what happened, but your mind took over your body and you couldn’t help yourself. you only pray he didn’t see it, not expecting him to. it’s embarrassing now that you think back on it.

you manage to make it out of the house twenty minutes after, throwing on a simple white pleated cami dress with a ruffled hem, ruched bust, and pairing of olive green sandals that had tea rose shaded orchids clipped onto the forefront. a teri cherry printed coach bag tight on your shoulder after you sped sixty miles per hour towards the restaurant, finding parking and hurriedly making your way inside.

“hi, reservations for fushiguro. i’m extremely late,” as you approach the host, you make out the sight of the man you were here to see outside instantly. sitting alone sipping a cup of coffee. his side profile all you can see, that deep scar carved into the side of his mouth, his veiny hands big as he clutches the mug . . and your throat clogs up.

he’s fucking . . . big. fuck being nervous before, this made you want to run and hide and never show your face. he’s practically hunching over the table, making it appear smaller than it actually is. his hair is midnight black, his broad shoulders and muscles suffocating the sleek gucci button up he wore, a few undone, eyes studying his cellphone, awaiting your call. one thing about being a doctor, he’s learned to be patient. understanding your alarm forgot to go off, or rather you slept through it . . seemingly growing to become impatient. he needed to see your face now.

“right this way.”

your feet follow blindly behind the hostess, trying your best not to trip over your own feet, heart beating drastically against your ribcage. your palms are sweaty, feeling the warm breeze of spring air hit your skin as the hostess leads you outside to the table where toji resides. he sees you before you see him, the sun beaming on your skin not nearly as hot as your cheeks suddenly became when finally making eye contact. your right hand picks at the ends of your dress anxiously, toji taking a stand to welcome you like a gentleman. it’s like slow fucking motion the closer you approach him, and when you’re inches apart, you can see the stillness on his face. he doesn’t smile, his face is almost unreadable. not sure if he’s upset with you for being late, or he’s just not one for emotions.

“hi,” the hairs on your skin stand from the deep baritone of his voice, visibly swallowing as you stare up at him, height difference making you dizzy.

“hi,” you blink like an innocent doe. he’s hovering over you and the waiter whom sets the menu down on the table, his chest almost touching you as he comes around to pull your chair out for you to sit, finally getting so close to the point where he could breathe in your sweet perfume, the peony and white musk scent has him forcing down a groan. he’s staring intently at your backside, dark hair going to the middle of your back in wild curls, a bit frizzy due to the humidity outside.

“can i get you anything to drink, miss?” the waiter addresses you, politely waiting for toji to move out the way.

why is your entire body on fire? no man has ever had this affect on you. his aura exudes something sinister, overtly masculine even. “u-um, yes please. can i just have a frozen sangria?”

“of course, i’ll be back with that while you decide on your meal.”

“thanks,” you smile sweetly, trying your very best to avoid complete eye contact. once the two of you are alone, you build up the courage to look at him again. he’s seated once more, leaning back into his chair with a left arm resting over the back of the chair with his legs comfortably spread. he liked to do that a lot. his eyes are low, head adjusted somewhat to the left as he observes you.

“good to finally see you,” he’s the first to speak, again. that fucking voice of his; raspy and dominant. how are you supposed to carry out a conversation without folding?

“y-yeah,” you clear your throat, sitting up straight after shyly clamping your hands between your legs and trying to hide like a porcupine. “i want to apologize again for running late. out of all days my phone decides to not ring my alarm. i rushed here as soon as possible. i hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

his lips began to rise into a soft smile, and that eases your nerves. no one would notice you’d rush to get ready. so naturally pretty with your face glowing from rose water and petroleum jelly, hair brushed out, lashes only curled with mascara, lips lined with black liner and smothered with gloss while your prescription glasses sit on the bridge of your nose. too cute.

“sweetheart, no need for the sorry’s. i understand.”

he’s not mad, thank fuck. “kay,” you smile back, tucking pieces of flown hair behind your ear. “did you order yet?”

“was waiting on you,” he replied. “though i kind of lost my appetite. i’m craving something . . . else. so, order anything you’d like.”

that was surely a double meaning. now, you’re not so sure if you had an appetite anymore. you couldn’t bare to eat in front of this man right now. when the waiter came back with your drink, you downed half of it, toji chuckling from your anxiousness. you needed the liquid courage before uttering another word towards the man who watched you with motive, intention. the intimidation brewing from his body is corrupting you. you order a simple caesar salad, nothing too fancy.

“oh! i printed out the document we have to go over.”

toji’s eyes trail to your hands that reach for your purse, acrylic nails painted a peony pink pulling out your notebook stuffed with an arrangement of papers as well as a pen. “guess we can call it like an nda, affidavit . . whatever. i’m sure you’re aware of the obvious on why. um, we can discuss boundaries within the bedroom . . . things we will or will not condone. a safe word is a must. if you don’t feel comfortable showing your face i’d blur it out, but given i do livestreams most of the time that’ll be impossible. so i’d suggest a mask, which i’m actually in to so if that’s something you’re willing to do . . “

toji nods as you continue to ramble, carefully analyzing everything you say, though, his mind begins to drift elsewhere. he still couldn’t get that damn livestream out of his mind. killing himself these past two days just thinking about how fucked out he needed you to be, buried deep and crying underneath him. the cute expressions on your face when you moaned his name so publicly, as if you dared him to see. how desperately you fucked yourself on that pathetic toy of yours from the very thought of him. your whines, the illicit way you stared at your reflection in the mirror beneath your sculpture of a body you rolled seductively. he shifts in his seat, attempting to conceal the stirring of hunger within him as you continue to talk. he doesn’t need a fucking contract. he’d fuck you good and wouldn’t tell a soul.

his expression is firm yet tinged with a hint of something different this time . . anticipation. “why do you film content?”

the unwavering intensity in his gaze causes you to cut your sentence short, mouth forming an ‘o’ as you ponder on his question. was he even listening? “wha—what do you mean?”

toji chuckles. “i mean, why do you film? is it your main source of income? do you enjoy submitting to hundreds of people? does it make you feel confident, make you feel good? why?”

that should’ve been something you prepared yourself to answer. most of the guys you filmed content with didn’t have personal answers to ask, nor did they care. they were simply there to have a good time and go about their lives. you came into this situation thinking that’s what toji wanted as well. now you’re getting a gut feeling it’s more than that. or maybe you’re just an over-thinker. the whole point of making an account on hinge was to find better people to connect with for work, but most of them never got the job done, and you were tired of faking an orgasm and boosting a man’s ego. something about this one though, you can feel that he’s willing to worship you.

“well, i actually have three jobs. hairstylist during the day, which i’m growing to lose passion for. i’m good with pottery so i make little things and sell them. and then as for filming content . . . it’s fast money. the economy is shit right now. minimum wage jobs aren’t cutting it. rent prices are horrifying. i want to fund a new life for myself. to travel more, and just be a girl.”

toji smiles, admiring you.

“bali has been on my mind as a place to reside. it’s always been a dream of mine to be somewhere tropical. less breathing in polluted air and eating foods they pump full of hormones. mexico and puerto rico are also on the list. i really need to dip my feet in some sand or something. i don’t know. it’s also kind of sexually liberating to be in my own bubble and enjoy myself in that way. i do it for no one but myself.”

toji sits up in his seat, taking a piece of ciabatta and smearing softened butter onto the breadpicked up a slice of bread and smeared some butter onto it. “i think that moving to a place like that is a good idea. there’s a lot of bullshit in the world that’s hard to run away from. if you feel like it’s what’s best for your mental and emotional being, then go for it. you seem like you’ve worked real hard your entire life. you deserve a break.”

the heat in your cheeks rise as he leans himself closer, guiding the bread to your lips, waiting for you to take a bite. you smile softly, sitting up a bit in your chair before taking a bite. toji watches intensely as you moan from the taste.

“isn’t it much better when it’s given by someone else?”

“yeah, it’s good. real good,” you swallow, licking your lips to rid the breadcrumbs, reaching for your glass of wine to take another sip. “i have most of my savings in tact, so my plan is to be out of here by next year.”

the unadulterated pull between the two of you threatens to consume him as he stares at you, his body almost painfully yearning for your touch, your taste, your everything. toji can no longer resist. he reaches out and gently cups your chin, his fingers gently yet firmly tilting your face up to meet his smoldering gaze when you dared to look away. “how ‘bout you take me with you.“

the entire scene switches, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of lust and vulnerability makes you fall shamelessly into his trance. you feel your heart patter against your chest, scanning his entire face with small indications of panic, and excitement. you’ve been dying for his touch all week. you pray he’s as good as he looks.

“what’s the catch?” you breathe inordinately.

toji smirks. “we get fake married or something and change our identities.”

you shake your head at his joke. “i need to see a ring first, mister.”

“mhm, you look like a marquise kinda girl,” he tongues his cheek, in deep thought. “go to bali. i pay, you enjoy life.”

pairs of lips are mere inches away, toji ghosting his softly amongst your own, yours parting to follow. you feel like you’re in space, the feeling extraterrestrial. surrounded by depths of nothingness with only the two of you existing.

“i. . no, i can’t let you do that,” you shake your head dismissively.

“you deserve it.”

“you don’t know me.”

“good. that’ll be the perfect occasion for us to spend more time together,” he concludes, softly pecking your lips to coax you into giving him what he needed. you’re stunned, unsure what to say, or to think. so, he doesn’t make you think.

“fuckin’ kiss me,” his voice drops to a husky whisper, filled with a raw mixture of desire and vulnerability, eyes flickering from the plumpness of your lips to your eyes. “can’t wait any fucking longer.”

the heat of his breath mingles with yours as his lips brush against your own in a hungry, fiery kiss. his mouth devours yours with an intensity that borders on primal, each movement filled with a desperate need to taste and consume everything you have to offer. his tongue slips past your parted lips, eagerly exploring the depths of your mouth as if seeking to memorize every inch of you.

you were drawn in fully now and you didn’t think you’d be able to pull away even if you wanted.

within the moment of your passionate kiss, as toji’s rough hand trailed to grasp your throat, your waiter begins to approach with your salad, eyes widening as he noticed how deeply, and somewhat aggressively your make out session was. practically swallowing each others faces. deciding to mind his business and turn the other way. he’d come back in a few minutes. toji breaks the kiss abruptly, his eyes gleaming with a hint of reluctance.

“damn this table,” he mutters, his gaze shifting towards the barrier separating the two of you. his breathing is ragged, body practically trembling with pent-up need. even so, he manages to pull himself together enough to maintain some semblance of composure.

he’s left you breathless, feeling something in your chest you’d never felt before, this attraction for him otherworldly. your lips are pouted, hands bawled into little fists levitating in front of your chest, as if you were begging for him to come back. when he begins to rise to his feet, you wonder where he’s going, eyes coming into immediate contact at the bulge growing tight in his jeans. you swallow, shifting your gaze up to the tall man that hovers over you possessively.

“go home, send me the address. i gotta handle a few business calls then i’ll be there at eleven.”

you hadn’t noticed the way your teeth sunk into your lower lip as you give him those damn puppy eyes, as if you’re so fascinated by him, almost scared of him to leave right now. toji grabs the pen resting between your little pink book, signing his signature on the indicated line on the bottom of the page for your gratification. after, he’s fishing for the brown leather wallet in his pocket to place down a hundred dollar bill on the table to cover the tab and the waiters tip. then, he leans down, lips gently brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. he lingers just a moment longer, as if reluctant to let go.

“see you later, angel.”

finally, and with that, he steps back, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment before he turns and walks away, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoes in your ears, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a lingering sense of anticipation for the evening to come. starstruck entirely.

𓇼

a rush of arousal burned within you like wildfire as you lay in your empty bed, yearning for the man who's been gone for only a few hours now. caressing your collarbone while chewing on your lip, your phone rests in your palm, excitement brewing for twenty minutes now ever since he texted you to let you know he was on the way. a black baby doll is adorned on your soft skin. ruffle lace details at the neckline and hem with a satin waistband tie at the back into a cute bow. matching mesh g-string panty, and floral patterns along the bust and hip area.

you took the time to curl your hair, reminding yourself to actually put your contacts in this time. also keeping makeup to a minimum with just mascara, a bit of blush, and some strawberry chapstick. skin moisturized in baby oil and spritzed with miss dior. . . waiting. the camera’s set up across from your bed, trying to distract yourself by engaging in conversation with your viewers. the comments were raging about how impatient they were to see something, but how did they think you felt? you could barely walk out of that restaurant without feeling your legs shake.

he intimidated you beyond measure, and god knows what he’s going to do to you when he gets here. it’s a fear and form of greed you’d never felt before.

“my fucking hands are shaking,” you giggle anxiously, smiling to yourself and shaking your hands before dramatically breathing out.

as you waited, you did little things to keep your buyers entertained, showing your ass every now and then as you cleaned your room like a cute maid. call it foreplay. sitting on your knees now become uncomfortable, so you aim for lowering to your tummy and stretching your arms ahead of you, ass raised up. as soon as you get comfortable, your head pops up from the sound of heavy footsteps surrounding the small area of your home. it’s him. you’d hope, leaving the door unlocked so it’d be easier for him to enter.

“oh, fuck—y’all,” the anxiety is even worse now, mentally preparing yourself with steady breaths and shoving your face into the bed to scream happily. the emotions are bipolar. “he’s coming up.”

toji steps closer to your slightly cracked open door, pushing it open wide to see you. his demeanor nothing short of serious when he gets a good look at you, hearing you yap at your camcorder with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. he rests his right shoulder against the frame of the door, staring at you, admiring. his boots hit along the floor the closer he gets to you, and that cute ass you had perched up. the lights in your room are dimly lit, citrus candles spread around and led lights from your vanity illuminating the area. the vibe is nice, he likes it. like he likes you.

you continue to speak to your livestream and pretend he wasn’t there, trying to ignore your heartbeat picking up. the tension is in the air. you tried to steady your breathing as you continue to ramble about nonsense; animal crossing, sims you wanted to recreate and purposely wicked whim them. anything to distract yourself from the sparks shivering through your body. you prod the inside of your cheek trying to bite back a grin when you finally feel his hands on your hips, eyes watching the chat go wild from the brooding man behind you. what makes it all the more hot is that he hasn’t spoken a word, feeling like an intruder. stalking, waiting.

“so yeah, i’m thinking about dying my hair red. i feel like my face is kinda full to have a silk press so i’ll look . . off? maybe p-pin ‘urls,” a wave of pleasure shocks through you when you feel him press the outline of his dick against your cunt, dragging you back to air-fuck you once or twice. a few times. for the tease of it. his fingertips lightly flowing along the curves and contours of your body, your hips being the most sensitive. gasping and twitching from the feel, the thong you wore barely shielding how wet you were.

your breath became heavier, and you found it harder to continue speaking. you felt like moans would slip out of if you continued to react to his touch, the heat between you two rising. you were drawn fully into him. the reaction from him gave you a confidence boost, a slick smile showing on your face. while his body speaks of his own growing need, he remains a silent observer, his intense gaze watching as you maintain, or try, your playful conversation with the camera.

“i gotta admit something,” you smile into your hair that falls angelically around the frame of your face. his form, silhouetted behind you, takes on an ominous yet seductive presence. even though he remains hidden from view, his yearn is palpable, eyes locked on you as if he could consume you with a single glance.

“i fucked myself thinking of him,” a jolt of electricity runs down toji’s spine as he recollects the image. a low, involuntary groan escapes his throat as his grip on you tightens. “those of you who don’t remember. it was really, really good.”

that’s the final trigger. in seconds, a rough palm strikes the flesh of your ass, causing the cutest squeak to emit from you. toji’s wrapping his other fist around the softness of your hair and pulling you back to his hard chest. his cologne is strong, enrapturing even. your hand reaches beside you to catch his wrist in your grip, feeling the coldness of his expensive watch while he’s busy locking your jaw still and pressing his lips beneath your ear.

“really?” the tone is condescending, and as you nod frantically, pushing your ass back to feel him more, all you can hear is the unraveling of his belt. slowly removing it, the sound of the leather rubbing against the buckle and his pants. the anticipation fills you at an alarming pace. “i knew that, angel.”

how? wait, did he fucking watch the live you made that night? your legs nearly go weak at the possibility, sheer embarrassment consuming you. he wasn’t meant to see that. yeah, you told him about it. but him seeing that, then having lunch with you like nothing happened is crazy work. he noticed you’re frozen, chuckling darkly behind you.

“relax, doll. i can pretend i didn’t, ‘n you can show me all over again.”

he grabs your wrists, pining them behind your back with a rush of power fueling him, crossed hands sitting on your ass.

“this okay, baby?” he scans the side of your face for approval, using the smooth leather to bond them together. you hum, lips bitten and nodding obediently.

the look on your face in the camera is so worth the thousands of views from people who were just as desperate as he was to see you submit. your hands wriggle to touch him, laying your head on his shoulder and biting your lip as his teeth graze from your shoulder, to your collarbone, and your neck. your body’s completely on fire, and he makes it worse when he gently shoves you forward to fall on your face, back arched and ass high for his view, and theirs.

toji stared down at you as you remained there, fully surrendering yourself for the taking. his larger body leans over yours, fingers grabbing your chin to force your mouth to open. toji brushes his lips along yours, your desperate mouth sinking into him, feeling that same spark you felt earlier during lunch in your chest. he deepened the kiss to give you what you wanted, easily reading you, his tongue ravaging your mouth with his waist grinding into the shape of your ass. the kiss is so wet it has you mewling like a cat in heat, losing your breath.

“give me a safe word, hm?” toji sucks on his lower lip, the arousal in his eyes ruining you. a heavy hand rubs circles on your ass before hitting it again, another cute sound leaving that pretty mouth you had.

brushing your cheek along your bed set, dark curls dancing around your face and a pout on your lips, you whimper, “strawberry.”

“mhm,” your stomach flips when you felt his hand drift between your inner thigh, toji’s tongue skidding over your lips the same time his fingers apply pressure to your clit, rubbing in circles after he pulls your panties to the side, your babydoll resting pretty on top of the rolls on your back. your fists are balled tightly in your restraints, widening your mouth to suck on his tongue before giving him a deep kiss. the image on your face is pure dizziness. acting like your fucked dumb while barely being fucked. he couldn’t wait to see you crumble.

you squirm under his touch, breath growing short and shaky, toji maintaining eye contact with you dangerously. he’s big on it, and it makes you shy, yet brave enough to endure it.

“you hear yourself, girl?” toji hisses, pecking your lips hard, his fingers coated with your slick the more he rubbed. you whine, arching your ass even closer to his hand. “you’re so needy for me, it’s cute.”

it’s ridiculous that you can’t even speak, him turning you into nothing but a whiny, whimpering sub. “you’re desperate for my touch, for my tongue.” he whispered, his voice growing even rougher as his own need grew.

“mmm, yes. need it so bad,” you pout, mouth gaping after he spanks your clit lightly. “fuck, please eat it, baby.”

“i will good girl.”

he didn’t hesitate for another second, sliding behind you with one knee pressed into the bed and his big hands holding you still, spreading your cheeks further apart and cussing under his breath from how fucking cute your pussy was. fat, and glistening in your juices, clit hiding between your folds giving him something to search for. “g’na fuckin’ kill me, angel. pretty fuckin’ pussy you got.”

you scoot up as much as you can, hands still bound behind your back, wanting to cry from the inability to move, but loving that he had you at his mercy. his hair covers his eyes and he’s submerged into you, pressing his mouth to your pussy in a sweet kiss, like he’s knocking politely, before running his thick, long tongue over you slowly. a groan resounded devilishly, toji lapping at your dripping clit, tongue hot and your toes can do nothing but curl.

he’s slow and deliberate, enjoying the sounds and reactions he was getting out of you as you writhed and quivered under his ministrations. your pussy and his mouth makes up the loudest voice in the room, so fucking sweet and wet he’s salivating over you. spanking you, taking his time to devour you as he swallows your cunt whole, tongue gliding from your clit all the way to your hole. occasionally dipping his tongue into you to fuck you like that. your eyes cross, a broken cry making him lose it.

“keep bouncing that ass back, baby. fuck, fuck my face, angel,” he’s hitting you again, and you can’t take it, shifting your thighs to roll your ass back onto his gorgeous face. you’re panting like an animal, jaw dropping as he keeps his mouth on your clit, sucking it hard and groaning into your cunt, the vibrations traveling up your spine.

“oh . . god, oooh god,” the gasp in your throat became high pitched, toji licking you faster when he sees you giving your utmost effort. continuing his onslaught on your sensitive clit, swollen and satiating his taste buds. his fingers dug into your thighs, lowering himself completely to sit on his knees before you, rocking you back on his face as he eats it, unrelenting. sucking, licking, slurping, drowning his tongue inside of you . . . damn, it’s fucking good.

“c-cumming,” he can barely hear you as you stuff your face into the bed, toji’s head bouncing as you settle your feet on his shoulders and rock back on his face even quicker, groaning. “don’t stop, don’t s-stop, babyyy.”

“mhm hmm,” he’s moaning into your pussy, kissing and tonguing you down until you finally burst, your hands in their constraint balling into fists, getting the chance to latch onto his black hair once he pushes you flat on your stomach to bury his face completely between your ass and thighs. “let it out, baby.”

his chin glistened from your juices, toji groaning the rougher you tugged at his scalp, dick jumping in his jeans he needed to unravel soon. when you cum, you do this thing where you squeal and gasp at once, and he swears it’s the cutest thing he’s ever fucking heard. lifting his face, he licks his lips proudly, wiping his chin and patting your ass to watch it shake in his palm. you were a lovely display beneath him, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you.

he reached down and traced a finger along the length of your trembling leg, his dominant presence still overwhelming. he brings his hand to the back of your neck which you arched into his touch, his eyes darkening at your silent plea. “you want more?”

“nn, yea,” a breathless giggle falls from you, toji dragging you to sit at your knees by the grip on your neck and around your chest with his forearm, back hitting his chest again, and your eyes come into contact with the camera, almost forgetting it was there.

“show them what i did to your pussy, angel. let them see how perfect you are,” toji whispers, tapping at your knees to help you sit on your behind.

“okay,” the words are small again, because that’s how he makes you feel. once you sit, you raise your knees to your chest, toji lifting your babydoll to show your soft tummy and the pink lights from your vanity mirror glowing on the angles and curves of your body. you look like the finest art.

it’s liberating seeing yourself like this, a sense of relief washing over you when he begins to unloose the belt, humming elatedly and arching into him, your periwinkle painted toes twinkling in the air playfully. toji laughs at you, your hand coming to your cunt to cover it out of fake shyness, rolling to lay on your side and giggling to yourself. you really did know how to play a role, or maybe you’re just naturally silly.

toji unfastened his button before drifting his zipper down, thick thighs spread and arms bulky as he kept them in fists into the bed, tilting his head in your direction as he sat beside you, body taking up half the bed. you sit on your knees next to him, your hands running across his stomach and lifting up his shirt, toji licking his lips when your nails delicately scratch at his hips. you moan when his hand comes into contact with your hair, your nails digging into the broadness of his thigh.

as he guided your head down, you could feel the heat coming off of his body. you could smell the unique scent of masculinity wafting off of him. the feeling of his fingers running through your hair sent tingles down your spine, his touch tender and affectionate despite his dominating demeanor. your chest fluttered when his thumb touched your lower lip, your breath stuttering and your body quivering, a heat rising in your core all over. you felt the need for him grow stronger, pulling your lip downward. he shifted his fingers and tilted your chin up further, exposing your throat and neck to him. then he leans over, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head as his mouth latches onto your neck. pressing light kisses along the sensitive skin, his tongue grazing out and your skin pricks with fire.

“can’t stop tasting you,” he grunts, his lips and tongue on your throat licking hard, driving you insane with need. his hand holding the back of your neck in a possessive manner, keeping you in place as his mouth explored your sensitive skin.

“toji. .” your voice is weak, feeling your inner thighs drown in a puddle of your arousal. “wanna suck it.”

“i’m sorry, what was that?” he hums.

“don’t tease,” you roll your eyes and pout.

“mhm,” he lets out a little grunt as his eyes rake over you, his breath catching slightly as he stares at you. he runs his hand down to your waist, gripping fervently. “so pretty,” he murmurs.

“thank you,” you whisper, feeling a strong rush of affection for him. “you’re so handsome,” you say, your voice low and tender.

“g’na give it a good kiss, baby? real good?” he hisses, your hand pulling at his jeans to sit lower on his sharp hips, letting his dick free and watching it with a watered mouth as it sat against his tummy. heavy, thick, two veins protruding on either side. you fucking knew he was big. bless your intuition.

“yes, want it,” you plead.

a low growl escaped his throat. “show me you want it then,” he purrs, his eyes growing darker with desire and his grip on your hip tightening.

the salivation in your mouth gave you just what you needed to do the job, widening your mouth to accommodate his size, drooling over his dick as you pull him in as deep as you could to start. half of him enclosed by the warmth of your mouth and instantly toji moans from the feel, your cheek sucking in while you guide your head up and down, keeping your hands to yourself, one on his thigh for balance. your eyes are closed to focus, humming and dragging your mouth slow to make him feel it all. toji catches himself knocking his head back, pulling the sheets between his fingertips and scrunching his brows together, stomach caving in.

he can hear you slurp and suck at him needily, moaning around him and riding the air with your ass, spit gliding down to the base of his dick as your tongue sticks out to drag along the under of his shaft, bobbing your head and licking at him. something about giving him head in specific felt intoxicating. maybe it’s the sounds he makes; guttural yet whiny. the desperation begs to tug at his throat, shifting his hips blindly and cussing under his breath. eventually, his fingers find their way back to your scalp, toji sitting up and entangling both hands into your hair, face curated in pleasure with eyes wired shut and a gaped jaw.

“shit, ꒰♡꒱. that’s fuckin’ good, doll,” toji grunts, your moans around him encompassing him to briefly detangle a hand to spank against your ass in clear indulgence. “damn.”

your hand couldn’t help but travel to touch him, wrapping your hand around the base of his dick to stroke your hand according to the pace your mouth drags. that gravitational wave in his abdomen hit, a deep ‘your suckin’ it so good’ fleeing from his mouth followed by another harsh spank and a steady tug at your scalp to push you down only enough to follow your rhythm. when he hits the back of your throat, you force yourself to hold him there for a few seconds, purposely constricting your throat to hear him moan for you again, and again. his sounds addicting.

toji chuckles from how good you’re doing, raising your head to breathe before swallowing only the tip while stroking the remainder, your salvia being enough lubricant to quickly move your wrist. twisting and tugging while keeping it mostly on the head of his cock, the sensitive spot your toy to play with as you give teasing kitty licks, two hands covering him now.

picking your head up momentarily, you stare into his eyes with your siren ones, low and dangerous. pulling at his dick while you bite your lips before kissing him, mewling when he shoves his tongue into your mouth, pulling your body closer by your ass, the other grabbing the side of your face he practically swallowed into his own. the kiss is feverish, something straight out of a movie. he’s highly infatuated with you, tasting himself off of you with the mixture of yourself. toji sucks on your lower lip, and you find yourself positioning your thigh over his to sit and grind on his leg. you had enough of the foreplay, you needed him to fuck you.

“fuck me,” a whimper escapes, pressing your body down harder onto him, hand still stroking at him, that fucking voice of yours driving him mad. he doesn’t think he’ll last if you keep it up. “toji. . . toji.”

“stop begging,” he shuts it down quickly, the sound of his boots hitting the floor as he kicks them off exciting you. of course you couldn’t hide the smile, feening innocence as you pet at his jeans to help him remove them.

he's only in his black shirt now, your eyes following how his muscles swallowed the material, showcasing every sharp cut of his upper body. he made you dizzy, truly. that slit on the side of his mouth curving with his mouth as he smirks at you for getting lost in your cute little dream land.

“focus, love,” toji reels you back in, his hand on your lower back to arch your chest into his, dragging you to straddle him. if he could see the blush on your face he’d see that you were red as a tomato, his dick sitting right beneath you and you can’t help but shudder. “need you to lift your hips, help daddy out.”

“kay,” you nod like a damn bobble head, laying your hands on his shoulders and balancing yourself on your tippy toes, wrapping your arms around his neck for extra security. toji’s large arm his thrown around your waist to keep you locked to him, both of your body heat scorching.

he catches a hold of his dick, pumping it twice before he’s rubbing the fat tip against your drenched opening, collecting your flow before a soft gasp emits past your lips when you feel him gently enter, sinking you down carefully, little by little. the sensation from the stretch is . . like a fantasy. your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling as he removes his hand to balance the two of you on the bed, leaning back somewhat for your comfortability.

when you think he’s fully apart of you, that thought is knocked down the minute he utters, “c‘mon, girl. you gotta lot more to take.”

“oh my god,” the shock is out of, well, shock. he feels really good already, it’s gonna be hell if you handle any more. embedding your nails into his clothing, chin resting between the crook of his neck while you ground your ass back to make it easier for him to slip completely in. the two of you groan in sync, toji’s arm tightening around your waist from how tight you felt.

the more you rock, slow, steady, it fucks the both of you up. holding tightly onto one another while toji lets you take your time, the heavy breathing and hearts beating rapidly is fucking poetic. one might call this act making love. once you drop your ass entirely, that pressure in your sweet spot causes you to scream out softly, losing balance and sitting on your knees, holding onto him with an unexpected whine.

“shit, baby, you alright?” he’s immediately checking in on you, bringing you up and make eye contact, hands holding either side of your face and scanning for signs. pushing away the fact that you’re convulsing around his dick and trying his best not to fuck you hard. yet, at least.

again, you can’t even speak. your mouth is wide open, nodding and breathing heavily, shifting your hips and grind onto him, flexing your ass when you arch your back deeper before lifting halfway and slamming yourself down. toji chokes, face copying yours as he grips onto the sheets and places his arm back around you, helping you lift yourself.

“you feel . . really good, baby. stuffing me full,” you moan, toji grunting and yanking you up and down faster, losing his patience now. it blew out the fucking window the minute he slipped inside you. he fixates on the sound of your pussy sliding and swallowing his dick, the slick making his tongue water for the taste all over. you’re so fucking sweet it’s insane.

“yeah?” he lets out a low, guttural groan and grips your hips even harder, his breaths coming out in deep gasps. “fuck me like you fucked that toy, thinking of me.”

that makes you smile, that insecurity of him seeing that video earlier disappearing as you take both of your small hands and wrap them around his throat, using your weight to push his body so he falls onto his back, his hands cupping the curves under your ass cheeks. toji usually isn’t one for submission, but he’s been thinking for a while about trying new shit, and a pretty girl like you choking and fucking him was only the start. you see the look in his eyes, and you feel heat sweltering inside of you even more, relishing the fact that you are the one in control, applying more pressure to his neck, loving the way his breath hitches.

“you want me to fuck you just like that?” you lick your lips and grind teasingly, the dangerous swirl of your hips making his head sink further into the bed.

“want you to fuck me like that, angel. gimme a show.”

and you won’t deny his wish. positioning yourself back on the tips of your toes, his hands are smoothing underneath your thighs, clutching on either sides as you with his eyes going dark, his hips bucking. he can barely string a thought together, his mind completely consumed by the sensations you’re sending through him. your pussy takes it all while you pounce your body above him, rolling your waist each time you dip your ass down and meet his thighs.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he grunts, his voice thick with pleasure, eyes never leaving yours before his voice rasps out, “keep going. fuck me for real. like you want it. it’s yours.”

you let out a strangled gasp, body jerking and mind almost slipping away, the pleasure he’s giving you overwhelming and consuming you completely. his hands on your body clench harder, the warmth from his body on yours killing you.

“just like that,” his hands move at their own possession now, slamming down on your ass repeatedly to bruise your skin, the hits vibrating straight to your clit and it’s making you drunk. your eyes scroll back into your skull, his appraisal driving you to work for it faster.

“t-toji, i’m so wet for you,” you gasp in shock from the slickness between you two. “look what you did to me. you slide in and out so easily.”

“f-fuck, doll. you’re killing me talkin’ like that,” he lets out a strangled gasp at your words, voice ragged and eyes filled with need. “you like it that much, baby?”

“y-yes!” a squeal sounds from you, bouncing heavier than before, your voice getting caught in your throat from the impact. you clutch any part of his skin you can grab, losing yourself in the way he fills you. “i love your dick, baby. makes me feel prettier.”

hazy eyes filled with pleasure admire your features, fucked out already when he still has so much he wanted to do to you. give you what you deserve. a smirk tugs at his lips, sitting up and leaning in close, missing the skin contact. his voice low and rough as he says, “you look prettier when you’re sitting on my dick.”

“yeah,” you drunkenly nod. “s’mine.”

toji raises a brow with amusement. “it can be yours. when you cum on it real hard.”

wanting him even closer to you, you keep only one hand around his neck, placing the other on his forearm and pressing your chest to his entirely as you gyrate your hips and tease his neck, hovering over his skin with your mouth and teeth before you leave little love-bites on his skin. toji guides your hips in a circular motion, the simple switch up making you gasp and whine into his ear, hitting that spot repeatedly.

“god, baby,” you feel his guidance, his grip on your hips firm as he moves you. you ride against him, the friction on your clit making you whimper weakly, his deep voice in your ear making your body shake, feeling another orgasm develop. “i love it. s’fucking me so good.”

“see you movin’ just like you did for me on that mirror,” he wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing firmly. your eyes lock, yours clouded by arousal, his with an agenda. “fuckin’ yourself like that . . ima fuck you real bad for that,” toji hissed, swiping his tongue across his lower lip before aggressively smacking your ass. “i feel that fuckin’ pussy squeezing me tighter. if you’re g’na cum then do it on me. gush all on it.”

the more your body reacts to his praise, and sprinkles of degradation, the faster your orgasm approaches you, washing over you hard as your body spasmes from the intensity of it. your teeth sink into his shoulder as you scream, riding out your high, squeezing hard on his arms. toji kisses your temple, keeping you close as he falls back and lays on his side while turning you to face your camera you’d both forgotten about, still did.

“you did so well,” the kisses continue around your face while your brains on autopilot, his hand clasping around your neck as he presses his hot chest against your back. his kisses are so aggressive it makes you feel small and wanting to obey. you jump when he spanks you, moaning weakly into your shoulder with your arms halfway hanging off the bed.

toji goes lift your right leg to adjust himself behind you, dick achingly hard and covered in your juices, slipping back inside of you fully before angling your knee towards your tummy, keeping a hand locked under the bend of your knee, your skin smooth to the touch. you smell good too. everything about you besotted him. your hand touches his face, tugging it closer to the point where his nose smushed against your cheek, dark hair clouding your eyesight as his big frame overtakes yours.

“you’re gonna kill me,” you whisper, eyes focused on each other, a giggle creeping up.

“not you,” he whispered back, rolling his waist back and forth, grinding deeper into you. the plush of your ass molding against his sharp hips. his lips brush on your neck as he kisses and nibbles at your sensitive skin. your hands roam over your body, touching and exploring every inch of yourself as his lips trail down your collarbone, darkly watching as your hand presses on your clit. “her.”

as he possessively holds you in place, he’s prepared you enough before he’s fucking you hard, knocking the wind from your throat completely. a hard gasp falls past your lips as toji slams his hips against your ass, knitting his brows together, squeezing his eyes shut while his mouth falls open. the utter silence both of your voices held at the moment was more powerful than the rough interaction of your skin. your eyes a ghost white as he pounds his dick into you hard. when a noise is made, it’s from equal parts, syncing your eager moans.

“ooh, fuck baby. you’re taking it,” he huskily whispers into your ear, his words punctuated by the way he continues to move into you. “sucking me so deep. m’not going nowhere.”

“to-ji,” his name is broken down by the harsh pounds he fucks you with, whining and moaning in his entrapment. your vision gone. “i love the way you fuck me. you fuck me so good.”

he fucks like he’s not letting up, his body pushing you deeper into the mattress, the grip around your neck remains tight, the feeling of his ownership only growing more intense. his body is hovering over yours now, digging deep as he can to fuck you real good, to make himself feel it all. your body remains to the side, only half twisted as he drops your leg and pushes his weight into you so your stomach is close to grazing the bed.

“s’too much, fuck . . i, i—” the words are caught in your throat from the overstimulation. breathing heavy, tears begin to fill your sockets, whining his name loudly in his face like you’d lost your mind for good this time. this pleasure was something you hadn’t felt in a long time. it’s everything you needed and more.

toji shushes you, kissing your nose as he grips your face, big hand almost covering it whole. “you like when daddy takes control? you like when he tells you what to do?”

toji will admit, you’ve got him fucking spent. it’s been a long time since he’s had a woman submit and cry under him, and you do all those things well. the gorgeous image on your face, to the salacious movement of your body. the softness of your skin and the equal relation of your voice. capturing and captivating him. you’d think he was on drugs the way he was talking. high off his ass from your pussy. his lips gently brush over your ear. your eyes flutter, his voice attacking your clit, and you swear it makes it gush even more, soaking the sheets underneath your ass. “when he makes you his? you like being my good girl, pretty?”

he knows you can’t speak anymore, but you’re still interactive with your body language. the slur of your nonexistent words to the way you try to roll your ass back to fuck him back . . but he’s got you trapped. even the tears falling down your face from overwhelming pleasure. he knows you’re okay, asking for a safe word prior for your protection. you’re a big girl, he knows you can handle it.

“nnng,” you can’t stop trembling, gasping for air and sobbing in his face. toji places his forehead on yours, looking into your eyes and nodding, cooing. you are fucked dumbed. toji hisses, hitting your ass and pausing momentarily to look between where you two collide, an ‘oh my god’ faltering out. he’s as gone as you are.

“you so fuckin’ creamy, girl,” toji drags out a frustrated hum, getting annoyed by how good your pussy is. you’re going to become a problem.

“please,” you don’t even know what you’re saying it for. do you need him to stop, do you want more, or are you just completely fucked out you’re saying anything that’s coming to your head? that butterfly feeling is back in your stomach, as well as a foreign one near your clit, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “toji, m’ g’na c-cummm. oh my god, babyy.”

your hiccups and sobs only urge him to fuck you even harder, loving how the breath literally jumps out of your throat in shock.

“cryin’ on this dick. fuck, you got me going crazy,” he really doesn’t want to cum yet, he needed to fuck you in every way imaginable. but he knows you need a break, to breathe for sure. he wanted to edge himself so that when he finally came, it’d be the best fucking orgasm of his life. your moans are clawing at his soul, so filthy and dulcet. you’re making it really fucking difficult to obtain that.

toji finds himself slamming his palm over your mouth to bury them in a way, but you’re so damn loud it’s getting to him. ‘fuck fuck fuck’ he’s cussing repeatedly in a whispered hush as he fucks you as hard he possibly can. his hand doesn’t even work, because you’re consuming him wholly and the minute he feels that build up, he pulls out to cum and you’ve drenched the sheets as you squirt. an almost blood curdling scream surrounds the room, your body rapidly trembling as your mouth falls open in utter shock, gasping, whining, whimpering, moaning his fucking name while he moaned yours. toji nutting up the entire side of your body, wrist twisting as he holds you body still, mouth drawn open.

his hand reaches over to unclamp your legs, heavy hand rubbing your pussy to stimulate you further, your back arching and head sinking into your pillow, crying out. he watches your hand flail to grip his wrist as your wetness continues to spurt out of you like water.

“strawberry!” toji listens to you weep, choking on your cries and pleads. finally having enough.

“holy s-shit,” you’re laughing while also trying to catch your breath, not believing that just happened. he can tell by the shock in your face that you’ve never had it happen before, or that much.

“damn,” he laughs along with you, smacking your outer thigh before smashing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, gliding your tongues together while his hands massaged every part of your body after allowing you to lay on your back. caressing and soothing you to calm you down. “gonna grab a rag.”

you pout when he goes to stand, already missing the disconnect as you lay empty on your . . messy bed. absolutely disgusting you two, hawk puth! one things for sure, you can’t keep that wide ass smile off your face. he comes back into the room, one of your pink towels wrapped around his midsection covering up that demon of a dick he carried. toji smirks down at you, grabbing your ankle and tugging you down to the edge of the bed before he’s taking a warm rag that smelt of your dove beauty bar to wipe what he painted on you. you swallow your lower lip into your mouth, watching with hooded eyes as he drags the rag sensually along ever part of your skin. you flinch when it comes to contact with your cunt, toji kissing your inner thigh with a ‘sorry’. he admires the curves of your body even more, kissing your ankle adorned with a silver anklet after he finishes.

“how you feeling?” he asks.

“i’m more than perfect.”

he hums. “you’re something else.”

“i was good?” you ask seriously, batting your lashes shyly.

toji stares at you as if you’re deadass. “don’t do that. you know you were. you didn’t hear me? i fuck you deaf?”

that makes you roll your eyes, but not before giggling. “hate you.”

“you won’t after i tell you i got chinese in the kitchen,” he winks, the light in your eyes making his heart swell. “c’mon, sexy.”

you sit up, gasping. “i knew i fucking smelt that shit when you came in. i thought it was outside!”

“nah, i realized i didn’t eat shit at the restaurant earlier so i decided to get us both something. did you even eat your salad?”

“i did, had to after you dropped a whole hundred,” you shake your head. “how’d you know i liked chinese?”

toji blinks. “baby, we literally talked half of this week. for hours. i have good memory.”

that slip of a nickname outside of sex warmed your chest, burying your face in your hair to hide your shyness. “you’re right.”

“don’t hide now, i’ve seen it all,” he chuckles, tickling the bottom of your foot.

“oh, whatever!” you chuck one of your plushies at him, half of them had fallen to the floor. toji gets up to grab your robe he saw hanging on the bathroom door, draping it around you as you stood.

he kisses your forehead and you walk ahead of him into the kitchen, screeching when he hit and gripped your ass, the two of you forgetting about the livestream altogether as you warmed up the food, poured a glass of wine and reminisced about what just happened.

angelbwrry live : 1M viewers.

#౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝑀𝒪𝒞𝐻𝒜’𝒮 𝑀𝐼𝒩𝒟. ✧｡˚#jjk #toji x you #toji x reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x you #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader

2K notes · View notes

textmel8r · 26 days

Text

[ DRABBLE + SMAU ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( seventh installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , masturbation , angst , profanity , descriptions of violence , toji being a pathetic little sicko :D

୨୧˚ an; sorry this part is on the shorter side😅😅 it’s more of a filler chapter but i still like it!

It’s well past midnight when Toji slips his way back into his motel room. It’s dingy and drab, the once-white walls twinged a sickly yellowish tint from chain smoking guests. Ugly bedspread details different flowers that Toji couldn’t name, the same aged pattern clinging to the drapes that were pulled shut over the front window, never to be opened. It smells of heady sweat and open wounds, though maybe that’s just him. No, it definitely is him. He’s hyper aware of the grimy layer of filth that acts as a second layer of skin. It’s gritty and uncomfortable.

The bathroom cubicle is claustrophobic; if Toji were to stand in the center of the room, he could easily touch all four walls that boxed him in. He sits on the closed toilet seat lid, staring at his hands. They’re huge, intimidating. Trembling, spattered in blood that’s long since crusted into a dark concretion, cracking at the hinges of his fingers. His hands that took the lives of two innocent men just hours prior. Toji didn’t want to kill them, but they wouldn’t cooperate. Oh, how they shrieked and hollered for their lives as he dragged them into that alley. They just kept fucking screaming.

“Fuck…” The man sighs grimly, letting his head dip forward to rest in the cups of his filthy palms. His bangs feel matted and crunchy with remnants of sweat. Disgusting self-pity blooms at the base of his hollow chest, and suddenly Toji has the urge to ram his skull into the drywall. Or dislocate his finger. Or do anything to punish himself for that feeling of defeatism. The nerve to possess such a shameful victim mentality, as if he deserved sympathy. He’s a killer; the best he deserves is a fucking electric chair.

Toji showers. A long, scalding shower that singes him to the bone. Water stained red cascades down the rippling wall of muscles that was his body and swirls down the rusty drain. These post-slaughter showers used to be blank canvases of his life. Ones where Toji’s brain would shut off and try to forget the atrocities committed by his hand. He would scrub his flesh raw, scrub scrub scrub mindlessly until he ached all over. But now, he only thinks of one thing.

You.

Maybe it’s some sick coping mechanism, turning to thoughts of you in times like these. In a pathetic form of self comfort, he reminisces. Your hands holding his face, your know-it-all smile, your way with words. God, your fucking way with words.

“My sweet boy,” Toji whispers under his breath, touching himself. As if he could replicate the delicate way in which you spoke to him. His eyes shut, desperately clinging onto the mental image of you beneath him in his bed. Your arms outstretched, reaching for him like you want him. Like you love him. “My sweet…” Toji tries to fade into the warmth of the spray, imagining it to be your body heat encapsulating him instead. But the water is far too hot, it hurts; you wouldn’t hurt him like this. He tries so damn hard to disassociate into the pleasure, as if his hand would magically dissolve into yours. Yeah, right. His hand is too big to ever compete with yours. Too fucking rough and gritty and mean.

The flat of his palm finds the greasy tiles of the shower wall. Toji fucks himself with all the roughness he deserves, lower lip staked between two rows of teeth to cease its quivering. He’s going to cum. Your face appears in his psyche once more, but this time, it’s from the first time you visited him in the hospital all those months ago. He can see the picture so vividly, it scares him: you seated at his bedside, poking and prodding over his obliques, muttering a stream of concerned questions. But you were never upset or angry. No, despite the worries, you were still smiling. At him.

Fuck, he’s really going to cum.

Toji grits his teeth, climaxing with a harsh shudder and a broken gasp of your name on his lips. Small jolts force him into a twitchy state, and he leans forward to rest his forehead against the tiles beside his hand. Semen paints the wall below, too far to the left for the shower spray to rinse it off. He doesn’t bother to clean it off. He’s too repulsed by himself to do much of anything.

The plasticky sheets stick to his skin. Sleeping in just a pair of boxers was probably a stupid idea, bed mites were a real cause for concern, or so Shiu had told him. But it’s hot. He’s hot. And restless. And uncomfortable. He always had trouble falling asleep in foreign beds. Lidded eyes peek over to the alarm clock perched on the side table, its cherry digits splaying 2:47am. You were asleep.

He reaches for his phone anyway, wracked with guilt all the while. The tension in his thighs still persisted, still succumbed to the aftershocks of his orgasm he fucked himself to with your face in his mind. He’s fucking gross. This is gross.

She’s sleeping, jackass. Don’t wake her up because you’re lonely.

Be a fucking man and lick your own wounds. That’s what his father would say.

He texts you anyway.

He presses the call button. It only gets through half a ring before the line cuts on and he hears a groggy “hey” filter through the receiver. How long has it been since he’s heard your voice? Not that long, only three days and yet it feels like it's been three lifetimes. And that’s truly the moment when Toji knows you’ve fucked him for life, because when did he start thinking such sappy shit like that?

“Hi,” he answers, melting back into the stiff mattress. His gaze wanders along the waterlogged ceiling, tracing the abstract damp stains that have settled in its popcorn surface. He thinks offhandedly that one of them vaguely resembles a rabbit. “Sorry for waking you.”

“You already apologized, silly. I told you it’s okay.” There’s a pause. “It’s nice to hear your voice.”

It’s nice to hear yours, too. “Go to sleep.”

“Yeah, okay.” The sound of sheets stirring crackles, Toji assumes you’re tossing in bed. “You’re sleeping now, too, right?”

He paws at his stomach, the pads of his rough fingertips tracing the gutters of his abdominal plates before he sinks his blunt nails into his own flesh. “In a bit.”

“Soon. It’s late, Toji.” You order him to bed like a mother would her child.

He nods as if you could see the gesture. “Soon, then.”

You bid him a good night, turning once more into bed before settling back into the depths of the slumber Toji had interrupted. He clasps his cell between his ear and shoulder, basking in your gentle breaths. It’s the same sounds you made the night you fucked him. He slept upon your chest, head over your heart, listening to its beats. You drooled on his pillow, he gave a quiet scoff at the memory. Are you drooling now?

Toji never sleeps.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0semultiverse @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni @taelattecookie @purple-obsidian @hqtoge @khaothick @saintkaylaa @ya9amicide @crayzyaarna @saiki-enthusiast @haesify @nyamocka @sixxze @lifesucksweswallow @darkstarlight82 @megumisdivinedogs @celestialol @yunho-leeknow @ghostfacefricker6969 @aizawa19 @lupicalbestwolf @nymphsdomain @makuzume

1K notes · View notes

altruisticalastor · 4 months

Text

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Part One Part Two

☒ Summary: There was no time for doubt or guilt. It was now or never, and you had to play it smart if you wanted to be free, and you longed for that freedom more than anything.The thought of soon being in the comfort of Alastor’s arms, without any restrictions, kept you at bay. Within hours, you would be liberated.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, happy ending! silly lucifer, vox gets destroyed emotionally, lots of cursing and a light sugestive undertone, angsty and fluffy (a perfect combo) heavily yandere!vox coded, blushy alastor, husband alastor being the sweetest ever

☒ Word Count: 3,545

You awoke to an empty room after what transpired last night. Slowly, you rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. There was a note on your night table- you noticed it as you sat up. It was from Vox.

Sorry, I cannot be here when you wake, sweetheart. Val is being a pain in my ass. So, duty calls. I'll be up to check on you later. There's breakfast downstairs if you're hungry. With love, Vox

The kinder he was to you, the more remorse you felt.

Soon, all of this would be behind you, and that's what you had to remind yourself of.

You took your time rolling out of bed this morning. You dreaded the day ahead of you. As you finished dressing yourself, you caught something in the corner of your eye. You spotted an envelope tucked under your closed window. The corners of the crimson letter lifted from the harsh breeze outside. You wasted no time snatching the tattered note, instantly recognizing the handwriting on the front.

It was from Alastor.

My Dearest, Gather your prized possessions. I'll be here at midnight to bring you to your proper home- our home. Lucifer will nullify the contract you have with Vox moments after I retrieve you. So worry not, my dear. Within hours, you will be free. Yours truly, Alastor P.S. Be sure to burn this after you've read it.

You could hear your heartbeat as your hands shook, tossing the letter into your fireplace. The finish line was just out of reach. You could do this. You hastily began grabbing the belongings you've accumulated over the years, stuffing them into a bag Vox had gifted you for your birthday one year.

As you began gathering your things, the nostalgia kicked in. As did the guilt that sucker punched you right in the gut.

Each item you stuffed into the tote brought back a pleasant memory. Your favorite tee that you wore to bed each night, for instance.

You hadn't a clue how Vox even knew this piece of fabric was so meaningful to you. Nor how he obtained it to begin with. But, when Vox re-gifted it to you, you broke down. He seemed startled by your reaction, uttering apology after apology. Vox assumed his gesture did not go over well. But it was quite the contrary. This piece of home made you feel a little less alone in an unfamiliar place. You cried out a meek "Thank you." offering Vox a shaky smile as you wiped your tears away.

You shoved all of those memories into the back of your mind. The same way you shoved your belongings into the tote. There was no time for doubt or guilt. It was now or never, and you had to play it smart if you wanted to be free— and you longed for that freedom more than anything.

The thought of soon being in the comfort of Alastor’s arms, without any restrictions, kept you at bay. You took a deep breath, slapping your cheeks a few times to snap yourself out of this stupor. Within hours, you would be free.

Vox had been so angry when Velvette called— disrupting his precious time watching you slumber. These moments were few and far between since you forbid him from installing cameras in your room. Vox grumbled to himself as he stood from the chair, ending the call with Velvette after receiving the news about "Needing to get the piss baby under control."

Slowly, he approached your sleeping frame, admiring you. The rise and fall of your chest. The pleasant expression decorating your beautiful features and the hardly noticeable tremble of your fingers at the hem of your favorite shirt.

It was a cute routine of yours. You tended to play with the stitching at the base of your sleep shirt before you nodded off each night. The sheets always slipped down your frame from how you tossed and turned, giving him a perfect view of your little habit.

Vox recorded this moment for his private use. He knew your self-soothing technique was the reason your shirt was so tattered. Vox put the pieces together ages ago. He never forgot the day he re-gifted you that flimsy old shirt.

When you started living here seven years ago, you arrived with nothing. Vox sensed your anxiety from your lack of familiarity. So he had a chauffeur take him to your and Alastor's newly desolate home.

Vox rummaged through your personal belongings for a good while, to the lack of your knowledge. Inhaling your scent; which enshrouded your garments. One shirt, in particular, stood out to Vox. He noticed the wear and tear in the fabric, giving it so much character and conveying a story of its own. He assumed this tee was sentimental, so Vox took it. Hoping that a piece of home would put your mind at ease. He had also confiscated your perfume and other personal garments for himself. But you hardly needed to know that.

When Vox gave the shirt to you, your eyes filled with tears as you offered him a sweet little thank you. That stirred something deep within him. Something dark. Vox's obsession only doubled by the day after that, and for some reason, you were wholly oblivious.

Vox supposed that was the moment he knew his fixation with you was severe.

You took his kindness for weakness, Vox assumed. But little did you know, the love he had for you only made him all the more hostile. If he had you, Vox had no use for anything or anyone else. Plain and simple. You were all he desired— all he needed.

The memories you shared over the years replayed in Vox’s mind as he persisted in his daily tasks. He hoped you had read the note he left you by now, taking the liberty of treating yourself to some delicious breakfast. Vox had the personal chefs make your favorite this morning. He figured you needed a little pick me up after the harrowing night you endured.

His poor little sweetheart, maybe he should visit you earlier tonight. Any moment without you in it was far too long for Vox.

You paced around the ransacked room. The clock read a quarter to twelve. You were in the home stretch. Alastor would be here soon, as would Lucifer. Suddenly, a knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts.

"Sweetheart, may I come in?"

Oh no, this was not according to plan.

Normally, Vox finished his work around two in the morning. He would visit you a couple of minutes after he finished up. But why was he early tonight? Did he possibly catch on to your antics?

"Ah! N-No! Not yet- I am indecent!" You sputtered out. Fuck, this was bad. Really bad. Vox was quiet for a moment before his voice boomed once more.

"You sound- off. I'm coming in." You hurriedly tucked your packed-up bag under your bed, throwing on your robe to hide the outfit you had on. You prepared to take your leave, so your usual sleep attire was nowhere to be seen.

Fuck, Fuck- Fuck! He wasn't this stupid. Vox was going to see right through your bullshit. The trashed room was a dead giveaway.

Vox barreled through the door, making a beeline to where you stood. "V-Vox! Wait-" His slender fingers cupped your cheeks, a look of worry glitching onto his features. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?"

He was too focused on you to notice the state of your room. A shaky breath escaped you as you forced a smile, bringing your hands up to your chest. You waved them in front of yourself. In an attempt to show him everything was alright. Which- it wasn't.

"Nothing- Really! I'm okay, just a bit sleepy. Can we talk more tomorrow?" You forced a yawn. Placing your hands on his chest, an attempt to soothe his worries. Vox gave you a pointed look as he let out a sigh. His hands that cupped your cheeks traveled a little lower. The gentle caress down your neck and collarbones sent a chill up your spine. "Of course we can. Here, let me tuck you in."

Panic flooded your senses as he tugged at the tie of your robe. "I-I'm cold! So I figured I'd sleep with this on tonight!" Your hands were trembling as you stopped him from undoing the knot. Vox looked more concerned than ever from your skittish display. "Sweetheart, you're trembling! Come, let's get you under the covers."

All you could do was nod in agreement as Vox's hand wrapped around the small of your back. He guided you to the bed, and that's when he noticed something was off. "Sweetheart... where's your favorite blanket, and why is it not on your bed?" His voice was even but a pitch lower. You froze in place, not daring to peer up at him. "I took it to get washed! It was looking a little bleak." Your voice was shaky as you lied through your teeth.

Vox's grip on your frame tightened as he slithered his arm down to grasp your hip. His hold on you was bruising as his other hand came to clutch the opposite side of your waist. He swiftly turned you to face him, dipping low to get in your field of view. "Why the fuck are you lying to me?"

Oh fuck, this was the end for you.

His eyes were glowing bright and swirling with anger. A frown was prominent on his monitor. "I'm not! I swear- stop! Vox- you're h-hurting me!" His grip only became more brutal as his face pushed closer to yours. Vox invaded your senses. You felt claustrophobic- trapped. "Lies, lies, and more lies! Utter one more from those sweet lips of yours, and you'll be sorry."

Tears brimmed at your waterline, threatening to spill. Sure, Vox's grip was painful- but more than anything, you were petrified.

"I believe you are holding something that belongs to me!"

The radio static filled the room, as did an air of malice. Vox snapped his head toward your window- met with the sight of his age-old rival, Alastor. "How the fuck did you get in here? I have security cameras lining the entire building! Inside and out!" Vox's grip around your hips loosened from the pure shock of what was unraveling before him. You took the opportunity to slither out of his grasp, frantically running over to your husband.

"Ha! Your sense of security is flawed! You'll have to try harder than that to keep me away next time, old pal!" Alastor laughed bitterly as you cowered behind him. You seized his waist from behind tightly, hands still trembling. "Although, there won't be a next time! Oh heavens no! Not after the way you put your hands on my wife." The radio crackle was more prominent as your husband's shadow tendrils outstretched toward Vox.

Alastor restrained the pitiful man before him. You peeked over your husband's frame. Getting a glimpse of his murderous expression. His eyes were in the shape of radio dials as crimson blood spilled past his grinning lips. "You fucker! You should have stayed away! Have you forgotten that I own your sweet little wife?"

"Uhh... not for much longer! Uh oh! It looks like someone is late to the party, am I right, Malastor? Aha!" You jumped from the boisterous voice filling the room. Your head whipped over to where Lucifer himself, now stood at your husband's other side. The King of Hell nudged your husband with his elbow, looking for approval from his witty remark.

"Malastor-?" You sounded dumbfounded before your husband cleared his throat. "Yes, yes indeed! Now, get on with it, little Luci! Time is ticking!" Alastor spat through gritted teeth, shooting Lucifer a warning glare. The short blonde man scoffed, muttering under his breath about how "He was taller where it counted most!" Lucifer approached an annoyed Vox. He thrashed against his constraints but to no avail.

"What the fuck are you of all demons doing here?" Vox spat, eyes swirling with murderous intent. He was beyond pissed, and it terrified you. Alastor could sense your anxiety and wrapped an arm around your waist. He pulled you snugly into his side, giving your hip a light squeeze.

"Your old pal Malastor and I struck a deal! So no more wifey soul for you Mr. TV man!" Lucifer said in a sing-song voice. Without further ado; The King of Hell's horns poked past his golden hair. Wings fluttered out as a blue aura surrounded Vox. "No! You fucking can't- she's mine!" Vox shouted, tugging wickedly against his restraints.

You watched in awe as the essence of your soul was extracted from Vox's chest. He let out a pained groan while Lucifer held out his palms, gently cradling your soul. A gasp was pulled from your lips as your collar and chain appeared around your neck. Lucifer turned toward you, offering you a wide grin as he approached. "Looks like ya dropped something!" The King of Hell joked, earning a warning glare from your husband as he brought your soul up to your chest.

Gently, Lucifer overlapped his hands before pressing them into your diaphragm. You let out a breathless gasp as you felt your soul lodge itself into your chest. It felt foreign. You had been without it for ages now, so to be whole again was... liberating. With a snap of Lucifer's fingers, the azure collar around your neck fractured in half. It plunged to the floor along with the leash before it withered away.

The waterworks that threatened to spill past your lashline all this time finally slipped. Hot tears cascaded down your cheeks as you let out a small chuckle. "Thank you- both of you." You turned toward your husband. Alastor smiled brightly down at you as you brought your shaky hands up to wrap around his slender neck. You pulled his face low to meet yours halfway. Alastor took the hint, a small blush blanketing his cheeks as your lips meshed with his.

The kiss was tender and loving. Alastor's large palms wasted no time cupping your face. He gently wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. "I've dreamt of this moment countlessly over the years we spent apart, my dear," Alastor whispered against your lips, forehead flush to yours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage from his words.

"Me too, Al. I can't believe this is happening right now." You giggled before Lucifer obnoxiously cleared his throat. Pulling you out of your sweet reunion with your husband. "This is lovely and all, but I upheld my side of the deal, Malastor! So you better do the same, or else I will fuck you!" Your mouth fell agape at the King of Hell's words. Alastor just tilted his head in confusion before you muttered, "Uh... I'm sure he meant to say fuck you up, my love."

"Yeah, that! Wait- what did I say?" You shook your head in disbelief as another laugh escaped you. Who would have thought the ruler of hell would be such a goofball? "Anyway, I'm gonna go! My job here is done!" With that, Lucifer took his leave out the window, humming a little tune to himself as his wings carried him through the night.

Alastor clutched your hand, squeezing it firmly. "Come along, my dear! It's about time you returned to your rightful home!" You nodded in agreement, releasing his hand to retrieve the bag you stashed under your bed. Suddenly, Vox's hand slipped free from Alastor's shadow tendrils. He wrapped his slender fingers around your ankle, pulling a frightened yelp from you. "After everything I've done for you... this is how you repay me?"

Vox's voice was low, wavering slightly. You could feel his glare on you. But you didn't dare to look his way. "Let go of me! I don't owe you anything, and you no longer own me. So give it up." You spat. Alastor's tendril twisted around Vox's arm, yanking it away from your ankle. The pitiful man winced as you took this opportunity to grab your things and get the fuck out of this hell hole.

"You'll come to regret this, sweetheart! You're mine, soul or no soul! And if I can't have you... no one can. Do you hear me?" Vox shouted at the top of his lungs as you took your husband's hand. Not daring to look back at the man you spent the last seven years chained to. "See, that's where you are wrong, chap! My darling wife was never yours to claim! Ha! How pathetic you are. Thank you for quite the pitful display!"

Alastor chuckled darkly as he took your bag for you, hoisting it over his shoulder. Without another word, Alastor's shadows surrounded you both. Taking you to a better place. The last you heard before you disappeared was Vox screaming your name along with the pitful cries of "I love you!" You felt a twinge of remorse for him, but it was fleeting.

The new scenery before you was bright and colorful. "Guys! They're back!" A cheery voice shouted. The Princess of Hell pulled you and your husband into a bear hug. "Oh, I just knew you could do it Alastor! I'm so happy that your wife is now a part of our found family!" You smiled at her words, glancing over to a rather stiff Alastor. You chuckled from his posture before another voice grabbed your attention.

"You two definitely make a cute couple! Who knew Mister Fancy Talk Creepy Voice had game? Kudos, man!" The feminine spider demon approached you before one of his hands took yours. "The name's Angel Dust! A pleasure to properly meet ya toots!" He bounced your hand lazily before shooting you a playful wink. You returned the kind gesture, introducing yourself with a smile.

"That's a pretty name. I'm Vaggie, and it's good to have you here." The petite woman gave you a small smile and a nod from where she now stood beside Charlie. You muttered a thank you before Alastor swept you up into his arms. You let out a small yelp as your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders.

"Alright, the meet and greet is over! My dearest and I have some lost time to make up for!" Alastor's grin never faltered as he shuffled out of the foyer and up the steps. You heard a loud whistle coming from Angel and a shout of "Don't break the bed!" from Vaggie. Which caused embarrassment to course through your veins.

You giggled as your husband ushered you into his bedroom. Kicking the door closed with his hoof before placing you down gently. You kept your arms secured around his shoulders as you buried your face into Alastor's chest. You breathed in his scent. Something so nostalgic yet ever-present. Alastor hummed your wedding song into your hair as his hands tapped along to the tune against your waist. "Let's dance, my darling!"

Alastor lifted you slightly, allowing the balls of your feet to rest on the tops of his hooves. You giggled as he began taking broad steps, twirling you around the large room. "Do you remember our wedding, dearest? Our first dance was nearly ravaged by a drunken Mimzy! Ha!" You shook your head at the memory. Husk had cut her off for the night- and let's just say the rowdy woman didn't take that too well. "How could I forget! Husker's tail tripled in size- and Mimzy uttered curses I had never even heard before!"

You both laughed at the memory as Alastor slowed his roll. Gazing down at you with unadulterated love swirling within his crimson eyes. His smile shrunk slightly as he brought a hand up to grasp your chin. "I truly apologize for disappearing all those years back without notice. It wasn't my decision, and if there's one thing I regret most in this world... It's making you feel like I willingly abandoned you." A frown decorated your husband's features. His eyebrows were knit in dismay.

You cooed at him, bringing your hands up to card through his two-toned locks. "It's behind us now, my love. Please, don't torture yourself anymore. I love you, and I couldn't be happier to be in your arms again!" Your gentle words tugged at his heartstrings. A small blush coated his cheeks as your fingernails grazed the base of his ears. "I love you more, my darling." The radio static in his voice was nowhere to be found. It was Alastor's true voice conveying his authentic feelings.

You wasted no time pulling him down for a kiss, which he happily obliged to. Your lips molded perfectly against one another. You could hear your heartbeat as Alastor caressed your waist lovingly with one hand. His other hand remained at your chin, tilting your face slightly with his grip to deepen the kiss. For being a demon in hell, it sure felt like you were in heaven at this very moment.

What was once lost was now found, and you couldn't be more thrilled to make up for lost time with your husband, Alastor.

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86

1K notes · View notes

gemissleeping · 3 months

Text

Angel of Small Death

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Seventh Year and you’re one of the ones who stayed. Reeling from the loss of your family in the midst of the war, you find a twisted sense of comfort in Mattheo. But your best friend Theo can’t help but feel you’re slipping away from him in more ways than one.

Length: 1.8k

Warnings: Mature. Smut. Angst as with everything I write, not sorry. Deals with addiction to substances. Please dni if this subject is triggering to you. If you need help or resources please dm me. Second instalment from the amazing Hogmarch Challenge by @thatdammchickennugget will have a part two!

Everyone knew that Slytherin threw the best parties. Hufflepuff was a close second, sure. But nothing quite matched the opulence of a bunch of rich kids throwing their parents money around like it was pennies. Which was why half of Hogwarts was currently packed into the Common Room as water-stained lights rolled across the dance floor.

You wove your way into the gathered students, everyone’s bodies slick with sweat through the haze. You were drunk, but so was everyone. Maybe a little high too, these things couldn’t be helped. Mattheo was oddly generous when you got him rolling. It was exactly what you needed; something that made you feel like a foolish child again. You’d been dancing for the past hour, but now your buzz had reduced itself to a gentle hum. Which meant it was time to find Matt again; sweet talk him into giving you just a little more.

Already familiar with the path, you strayed through the crowd. Handing out distant smiles to some of the other students from your year as you floated past them. Utterly devoid of anything but firewhiskey, sweat, and whatever Mattheo had given you, the bass rattling through the Common Room.

“Back again, Darling?” Mattheo grinned absently as you neared. Sunken into the couch, blown out eyes lilted with thinly-veiled guilt.

It wasn’t his fault, what had happened. You told him so almost every evening, when the two of you would meet to smoke up in the Astronomy Tower. His eyes always heavy with those same questions of whether you blamed him for the actions of his Father. But it didn’t matter how many times you told him it wasn’t his fault, because you knew he didn’t believe it. Besides, it would be a lie if you pretended that you didn’t think of it all every time you met his eyes in a room. It hung between you, always.

Enzo watched you trail over, sinking into the velvet beside Matt. Twirling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers as he glanced nervously to his left. Theo was sat there, his eyes having latched onto you long before you’d exited the crowd and made your way over to the group. But you hadn’t looked at him once, you barely took anything in these days. He could’ve stood before you and you’d have looked right past him.

Distance. It was what made Enzo shuffle uncomfortably in his seat beside Theo now. Swinging his leg over his knee, covering his mouth with a falsely casual hand. Watching the tall, glowering boy beside him.

Theo was still watching you when you leant into Matt’s shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering as your eyes glazed over. Matt resting his head atop yours with equal heaviness. The two of you whispering lazily to one another.

Sometimes your lips would tug into a smile at something he said, but your eyes were never able to catch up in time. The sight made Theo want to shatter the glass he was holding, let it tear at the skin of his hands. Give him a reason to feel this way, as though he were truly bleeding out. His feelings staining his shirt, the carpet.

At least when it came to Matt, he seemed to have some level of restraint. Reserving the substances the two of you shared for weekends, evenings. But Theo had become increasingly aware of how far away you were now becoming, even during the days. Whether it was Matt’s guilt that allowed him to fuel your addictions, he wasn’t certain. All Theo knew was that everything about you had changed, and a part of him wanted to kill Matt for having any role in it at all.

You’d have come to him once. Sat atop his bed and talked for hours. Hands resting beside one another’s but never quite touching. But these days you didn’t seem in much of a mood for thinking, let alone talking. The only thing you were interested in was getting far away from everyone, save for Matt. The two of you were joint at the hip. And although he hated to admit it; Theo knew that he should’ve been more concerned with other things, but that was what hurt him the most.

You were his childhood friend, the one he had swapped sandwiches with. Who he had followed up trees and chased across beaches. Sat through countless invisible tea parties beside. Who he had always, unconditionally, loved. And it had all been forgotten. Traded for nights of stuffing your nose with powder and drowning your insides in liquor.

He didn’t want to even begin to think about whether what you and Matt now shared was strictly amiable. Though he had his suspicions. And every time Enzo looked over at him with resounding pity, Theo got the aching feeling that those inclinations were right.

He tried to tune in to the debate Blaise, Draco & Pansy were having about who could do the best impression of Harry’s parseltongue. The trio bursting into laughter as Pansy hissed in gibberish. But Theo’s ruse didn’t last long. Everyone’s breath going still as Matt stood from the couches, offering his hand out to you. The pair of you slinking through the crowd without so much as a goodbye.

The others awkwardly turned back to their conversations as you disappeared. Although it was clear everyone was feeling the burden, as though they were all walking atop cracked glass. Enzo let out a sigh as he lost sight of Matt’s curly hair up the dormitory stairs. Tired eyes slinking to Theo, who was stuck on the doorway where you and Matt had vanished.

Enzo twirled the stem of his wine glass again before placing it aside, put off. Noticing the way Theo’s fist clenched at the couch’s edge. It didn’t take long for him to make an excuse. Enzo’s eyes trailing after Theo as he made little attempt to hide his path towards where you had disappeared.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Matt’s hands trailed the skin beneath the ribbons of fabric covering you. Greedy for more as he sat you atop his desk. Standing before you as he guided your knees apart gently. Eyes not vaguely tempted by your body, focused solely on taking you in; the way your lips parted as his fingertips trailed the inside of your thighs. Testing their limits as they trailed further, higher. As he threaded himself between your legs, pulling you flush against him. Tearing a gasp from both of you as your pretty little eyelashes fluttered. Head falling back as his other hand snaked up the back of your neck to guide his lips to yours once again.

He pushed against you softly, keeping the kiss delicate, careful. His hand trailing down from your neck to the underside of your jaw. The other circling the skin of your waist in intricate patterns. Holding you as though he feared you’d crack. You shuddered into his kiss, lips working against his softly. The antithesis to the fever that was sure to hit you both in a few minutes.

He pulled away an inch as you shook against him, rolling his hips lazily into yours. Satisfied when you let out another breathy gasp at the movement. He loved watching you like this, it seemed to mend something in him. As though if he brought you enough pleasure, it would somehow make up for all of the pain. Matt brought his forehead down to yours, absentmindedly swiping his thumb beneath your nose. Cleansing your skin of the white powder that sullied it.

“I just want to make you feel good again,” Matt breathed, ghosting his lips against yours in a broken whisper, “please say that I do.”

Your eyes blinked open, seeming to clear a little at his words, the rawness in his voice. You looked to the boy before you, saw yourself in the weight of his brow, the heavy set of his jaw. Saw the bruises of fear he carried.

“Matt,” you whispered, fingertips flying to soothe his skin. Draw him back into you and out of his head. “You make me feel better than anything.”

The words had barely left your lips before he crashed himself against you. Commanding fingers grasping at your jaw to make you as accessible to him as possible. Tilting your head back and sucking at your bottom lip with his teeth. His hips rolling against yours with calculated speed. Pressing himself flush against you as your skirt hiked up.

The sensation made you squirm, just as he knew it would. The hand he had situated on your hip clamping down firmly as he drew you back towards him. Leaving you no room to get away. Relishing in the way you lost all composure as he pressed himself against you again and again. It didn’t take long for him to make quick work of your underwear, or for your hands to find the buckle of his belt.

You were soaked by the time he pushed himself into you. Holding you tight to him as you cried out into his mouth. His hands already gently threaded into your hair with familiarity. Keeping you from falling back into the wall as he began to thrust into you. The gentle roll of his hips escalating as the powder hit your systems. His movements growing rougher as his control unravelled.

You buried yourself in his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper, the sensations becoming too much as you felt yourself losing your grip. His lips lazing against your cheek, trailing the skin with each thrust.

“You’re so good to me,” he breathed harshly into your ear, drawing you closer to the edge of the desk as he drew himself into you again and again. His hand tangled in your hair gently, comforting you as you reached your high with blistering intensity. “I’m sorry,” the words left him in a strained whisper as he continued his pace, offering you little relief as you felt yourself building up again.

But you knew his apology had nothing to do with his pace, the rough snap of his hips against yours. They only ever came when you were together in this way; completely at the mercy of the other. It was the only time he could let his guilt spill into you and know you would answer him truthfully. Your head too empty, body too spent to lie.

“I know,” you choked the words out as you shook again, your hands tangling in his hair as you felt him stuttering against you, “me too.”

Theodore shut the door quietly with a click, letting his back rest against it as he faced the empty corridor outside the dorm. A tightly wound breath leaving his chest in a huff as his bleak gaze permeated the wall in front of him. The sound of your heavy breath and moans barely audible beneath the door.

Theo sat, eyes drawn shut as he tried to wipe the image of you intertwined with his friend from his mind. Feeling flustered for having caught you both in such an intimate moment, and guilty that he wished it was him.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Masterlist here

632 notes · View notes

notquitecanon · 5 months

Text

Call Me... // Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You're the Devil of Hell's Kitchen's favorite late night nurse, but he's been avoiding your fire escape since an unfortunate accident. You both miss each other just enough for some emotions to slip through the cracks. You don't even know his name, but you'll settle just to know he's alright.

TW: blood, canon typical injuries, kind of hurt comfort, Matt's a self sabotaging martyr as usual, kinda sunshine!reader??? maybe if you squint

Bolded line is from a prompts list from several months ago so I lost the link. If it's yours let me know and I'll link it!

"I haven’t seen you in weeks… I’m worried you’re in another dumpster somewhere. Just call me back…please?" You whispered harshly into the phone’s receiver, burner cell jammed between your ear and shoulder as you fumbled with your keys.

It was true. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen hadn’t graced your apartment in weeks after three months of near nightly visits. At first it was serious stuff, stab wounds and splinted bones. It took two weeks for him to crack a joke. But once that stone cold exterior cracked, it was shattered. He was kind, sweet even. Every few visits, he’d bring by supplies to replenish your kit and, usually, with a bottle of wine in the bag. Emergencies turned to what he called ‘urgencies’- wounds just barely deep enough to justify stitches and dislocated joints. Which then turned into stopping by at the end of his nights for a ‘check up’, where he took advantage of your central heating, warm beverages, and warmer presence. Then, some Yakuza jackass appeared on your doorstep three weeks ago, fortunately your devil hadn’t been far behind. He took care of him, and you figured the thug, now minus fifteen teeth, would have a hard time telling anyone where to find you. Nevertheless, you found the ‘available apartments’ section of the newspaper taped to your seventh floor window. That had been the last night ’the devil’ had paid you a visit.

"Anyways… I guess I'm asking for a sign of life? Something? Please? Bye." You pleaded, voice kinder this time as you managed to finally unlock the door and slip inside. Locking the knob, deadbolt, chain, and newly installed jam that had been mysteriously delivered not too long ago. With a huff, you discarded your keys, and bag in the entry way before delving deeper into your dark apartment, flicking lights on as you went.

"You really need to start locking your windows." A deep voice sounded as you rounded the corned into your living room. Heart jumping to your throat and stomach dropping, you let out a yelp as instinct took over. The familiarity of the voice didn’t register as adrenaline flooded your system.

"SHIT!" You shrieked, flinching backwards so fast that the hallway runner rug caught under your feet, sending you careening into the wall. Without thinking, you put the Yankee’s starting pitcher to shame as you pitched your phone at light speed towards the voice. Of course, the shadow effortlessly caught it.

"Shit!" The intruder mirrored at your fall, and it was then that you realized who it was. As you collected yourself a slew of curses slipped out, looking into the dim living room to find the Devil of Hell’s kitchen slowly rising off the couch, he was already sans black shirt and mask, "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you."

"Yeah, well, mission failed." You muttered, pressing a hand to your chest as if that would still your pounding heart. Slowly, you finished your shuffled into the living room, flicking on the overheads as you went. "Shit, you could have called. Sit back down."

You could have used the heads up, the gash across his chest looked serious, and not in the cute excuse to see each other way ’serious’ had meant last month. He breathed a sarcastic laugh, tossing your phone back to you before producing a shattered burner cell with a… bullet hole?

"You have a funny way of saving my skin when I least expect it." He tried a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes, picking up your pace as you retrieved your first aid kit from under your kitchen sink, "Consider this a sign of life?"

"A sign of barely alive, more like." You answered, rounding back around the couch to sit across from him. Harshly pulling on a pair of rubber gloves and splaying out an array of supplies both his lap and yours. "You’re unbelievable. Almost a month of no contact and then you just appear and leak blood on my couch."

"I’m sorry." He breathed, face angled to where your knees now touched. You rolled your eyes, ripping into a packet of gauze and setting to work dabbing the blood. And he sounded sorry, pitiful even, looked it to. His unseeing eyes stared straight past you and yet somehow straight through you at the same time, mouth settled in a puppy like frown. He told you once that he was catholic, and you now wandered if that’s why he was so good at looking guilty.

"If it wasn’t for the newspapers, I would have thought you were dead." You drove your point home, with a small voice, too angry to be a whisper and yet too concerned to be a hiss. The evidence of his activities was written across his bare torso in older cuts, new and fading bruises, and a couple of bandages that he’d obviously applied himself, "And you’ve obviously been busy."

"Figured out how the Yakuza found you. Handled it. Didn’t want to lead anyone else back here." His explanation was strained, pushed through gritted teeth as you applied antiseptic to the largest, freshest gash. You cooed small apologies, irritated as you were with the vigilante, you hated being the source of his pain. You picked up a suture kit, quickly threading the needle.

"Well, as far as excuses go, that’s not the worst." You muttered, half joking and half touched he’d go through this for you. You’d known he was a walking martyr from the moment you’d met him, but still. He’d taken the beatings so you’d sleep safe.

That was something else, "Lean back, gotta stitch you up."

He complied as you stood, using your shoulder to nudge the floor lamp so the light was better for you. Even then, you position on the coffee table wasn't cutting it as leaning forward cast a shadow over his chest. Neither was kneeling in front of him, as the gash was too far up his chest for your position to be adequate. You muttered a quick apology as you flitted around him, trying to find the best place to plant yourself. Beside him on the couch might work, but you’d be straining to hold yourself up at that angle and keep your hands steady.

Bloody-knuckled hands found your waist with amazing precision for a blind man, easily lifting you and placing you over one thigh after he spread his legs a bit wider. He held you steady, angling his eyes to the ceiling to give you the broadest view of his chest. One of your knees pressed into the couch cushion between his legs and the other pressed into the outside of his thigh, caging the his black-clad thigh between your own like a seat. If your weight bothered him, he gave no indication. He did however turn his ear ever so slightly towards you and smirk ever so devilishly, "How’s that?"

"Very convenient, thanks." You forced your voice to be flat instead of the breathlessness you felt. Stupid charming vigilante. To his credit, it gave you the perfect access without blocking the light. And if you got to feel ever twitch of his insanely muscular thigh between yours? Added benefit. The devil, even bruised and bleeding, was insanely warm and smelled like something out of a terribly sinful romance novel. The manly small of musk and sweat should have been revolting, but the way it mixed with a fading aftershave would have been distracting if you weren’t so focused on the drip of crimson down his toned abdomen. Before your train of thought could derail again, you gave a quiet warning watching your patient steel himself before you began running the needle and thread through the torn skin. Other than an initial hiss and the clenching of his fists against your waist, he went silent as you worked.

The two of you sat in an almost tense silence. He could feel how close your face was to his chest, the waves of breaths washing over his skin, the smell of shampoo in your hair faint enough to know you’d put off washing it, the sound of your heartbeat slowing back down after he’d gotten you excited, the slight sound of your teeth worrying the inside of your lip. He knew he shouldn't be here, Claire could have patched him up, probably would have if he asked really nicely. He probably could have if he really tried, but he’d just missed you. Between Fisk and the Hand and the law firm… everything was messy. You were still simple and sweet and far more caring than he thought he deserved, a balm just to be near you.

"Could you talk to me?" He asked, so quietly you almost missed it in your focus. You tied off another knot, seeing him wince.

"Hmm?" You hummed, pausing to look up from the half stitched wound. His eyes lowered to your face, his clenched hands at your waist loosening to rub the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. You always wore such soft things, he wondered if you’d be so soft underneath. You took opportunity in the pause to wipe some of the blood from his skin.

"I’ve missed your voice, even if you want to yell at me or be upset with me, just let me hear it." His voice was like a prayer, so sincere it made you shift on his leg. What was in the holy water at his church?

"I’m not going to yell at you, honey. I’m not going to kick a man when he’s stabbed." You shook your head, rearranging yourself to get that optimal view again, grazing a gloved finger over a purple bruise on his ribs, "Besides, someone beat me to it."

He chuckled at the lame joke, leaning his head back against the back of the couch again as you began stitching once more. Instead of scolding him, you caught him up on all the details and minor drama that he’d missed over the last few weeks. The funny things and annoyances from work, things your family had sent you, what your friends had been up to, your opinion on current happenings in the city. He listened to you like it was the most interesting thing he’d heard all year, chiming in with questions and quips of his own. You’d missed his voice too, not that you’d boost his ego by telling him that.

"There." You finally finished, tying the last stitch and taping a bandage over it. The vigilante under you didn’t make a move to leave, instead his hands kept you still on his lap. You breathed a laugh, moving on to everything else. You removed the old bandages, giving half healed wounds a thorough cleaning. You applied comical Disney bandaids to the more minor cuts on his hands and were even brazen enough to kiss his split knuckles. The vigilante seemed to preen under you attention as you cleaned and applied Vaseline to his busted lip. As if it was too good to be true, his lip twitched downwards as his eye brows furrowed. His face angled away from yours, his unseeing eyes falling on the window he’d come through.

"You know, the burner phone's been broken for two weeks now. Took the bullet not too long after the yakuza paid you a visit. Couldn't bring myself to throw it away, a little piece of you." He admitted, a pitiful smile twitched up before pulling downward again. He groaned, starting to shift you off his lap, “I shouldn’t be here, it’s not right.”

You allowed yourself to fall to the cushion beside him, but snatched the black shirt away from him before he could make a move for it. He’d been too busy letting his hands linger on your waist.

“Why not?” You asked sternly, tucking the shirt behind your back as if the vigilante in front of you couldn't probably drop you six ways to Tuesday if he wanted to. Not that he could ever consider raising a hand to you, “You got hurt, I patch you up. Seems right to me.”

The devil tensed, first leaning away and then leaning really close. His freshly bandaged fingers tapped your knee as if to emphasize his point, “I don’t deserve this kindness. And even if I did, if I could, if I was good, I would stop coming here so you could live in peace.”

You were a silent for a moment, wanting to make sure your response was exactly how you wanted it to come across.

“The third time you fell through my window, you told me that if I ever wanted to be left alone, all I’d need to do was change the candle I keep by the window.” You recounted his words. You hadn’t known about his senses at the time, he was still cryptic and mysterious. But you’d never changed the candle, buying new ones of the same scent when it would burn out, “You warned me what might happen. You gave me an out, one that I continuously chose to ignore. You did everything in your power to protect me when that choice had consequences. That was good, because you are good. And good people deserve kindness. You put too much on yourself, honey.”

As you spoke, you laid your hand over his on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze to convey your own point. The crimefighter listened to your voice, your heartbeat, the quickness of your breath, finding no deceit and even if he didn’t believe you words, it was nice to hear them. Your kindness washed over him, letting him relax for just a second before he shook his head, laughing sarcastically to deflect the dangerously sappy emotions you stirred. You called him honey like it was his name, and part of him wondered that if you knew his name if you would still call him honey.

“You barely know me, sweetheart.”

His own nickname slipped out by accident, usually just something he called you in his head when he allowed fantasies about telling you everything, coming home to you as the vigilante and the lawyer, seeing just how far your good grace could take him. His lips quirked up in time with the uptick of your pulse and the way your breath caught for a moment.

“I know enough to know you deserve some good.” You whispered earnestly, reaching up to graze the Star Wars bandaid you’d stuck across his the cut on his cheekbone. Almost instinctively, he leaned into the touch. You smiled softly, maybe you’d both missed each other a bit. The combined concern for the other and the time between his last visit making you both a little sappy, or at least more honest about it, So, you breathed a laugh, making another lame joke just to earn one of those chuckles you loved so much, “Besides, I know you well enough to have your blood on my hands.”

But he didn’t laugh, instead, he pulled his face from your palm, his own bandaged hands taking your bloodied gloved hands in his own. Gently, he pressed your hands together, your loose fists creating almost heart like shape as he pressed reverent kisses to each bloody hand. The vigilante was kind always, flirty and joking, occasionally flirtations bordering on something else. But this? This was different, it was new. Intimate. You’d almost feel like a voyeur for watching the scene if it you weren’t playing a starring role. Your mind flashed to those romance novels you’d thought of earlier, this put all of them to shame. So much so that your hands started trembling against his lips.

He held them tighter, but not in a constrictive, cage like way. More in a ‘let me hold you together’ kind of way before gently peeling the dirty gloves off and, again, kissing your clean hands underneath. His face angled to yours, nothing but sincerity lacing his features.

"You know my blood better than my own heart does.”

“God…” You whispered, letting your head fall against his shoulder, your nose nudging his collarbone and your eye lashes fluttering against his neck. His stubbled cheek fell to the crown of your head. You cleared your throat again, "I know your blood, but not your name. For someone I care so much about, that’s kind of sad.”

It was the first time you’d ever admitted it out loud in such certain words. The vigilante ran gentle hands up and down your arms, silent as a million thoughts went through his head. You heart was racing, not from lying, but in anticipation. Despite your racing pulse, you seemed almost totally at ease with you skin against his, one of your hands pressed to a bandage on his ribs and the other holding purchase at the waistline of his black pants. Nothing sexual, just the perfect place for your soft hand to land.

Despite the million thoughts, he really had two options. Keep his secret, and keep you at an arms length, to keep things sweet and simple and not too deep. Or. Let you in a little deeper, he'd swim oceans to keep you afloat. Enjoy your sweetness, even if things were complicated. He kept still, holding you as gently as you had touched him, a promise to himself that he could be gentle and soft, just as he could be lethal and ruthless. Two sides of a balanced scale.

Your heart had slowed down again, the soothing motion of his hands on your arm lulling you. You had been worried about his response. You’re confession had gotten too real, you were worried he’d jump out the window and disappear again. And you’d be left with nothing but bloody gloves and the thought that maybe you’d just imagined the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

"Matt.” His voice was quiet, just barely above a whisper, “You can call me Matt. Just don’t stop calling me."

#matt murdock x reader #Daredevil x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x you #daredevil x female reader #matt murdock x y/n

520 notes · View notes

granolawriting · 8 months

Text

Within the confines of a ship ˚✧

pairing: Jedi!reader x Jedi Anakin

Summary: Spending night after night having sexual tension with a certian Jedi on a mission surrounded by your peers in a ship comes to a head when one day he stops trying to be discrete about what he wants.

Content warning: 18+ NSFW, minor exhibitionism, dom!Anakin, tension, Anakins a tease, breif aftercare, you guys stop caring about making no noise like halfway through, p in v unprotected, he cums in you, I don't think I actually wrote anything that explicitly makes the reader female, Anakin is glaringly cocky

word count: 2.6k

masterlist

A/N: so sorry this took so long to put out!!! I just moved to a new state :)! I hope u enjoy the second installment of my kinktober list, I'll see you all again on the 10th ;). Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!

The silent hum of a ship deeply comfortable in hyperspace and the muffled talk of fellow Jedi upon the ship fills your mind as you try to ensure that's all that enters it. Subconsciously you hone in on voices, unable to discern conversation but by mere tone and inflection alone could you spot him if he was there.

…

There he is.

You felt the sound of his voice sink deep within your stomach, igniting your body ablaze. Even the mere sense of him in distance to you made you grow weak, feeling as a pool builds through slick underwear at how your mind allows it to wander. Anakin had never been explicitly sexual with you, never did his hands trail down the waistband of pants or under hooked lines of bras, never did his lips even touch yours or the flush of bodies against one another. You were completely left to your imagination, though not without the help of Anakin.

You and him have always had a history, a tension of sorts. Never properly actualized with action but words were more than enough. The way his eyes devoured you when you walked past, soft words exchanged in private halls or even implicit praise after simulated battles between you and him.

“Ooh, good girl. Seems like someones been practicing.”

Small things. Though as he strung you along this road of implication and suggestion your mind was allowed to run wild with what else may lie within his own mind. The reactions to the things you’ve said in kind, and how if they were anything like how you responded-- with hands sinking to the ooze between your legs the moment you were home, you were more than certain that it couldn't last like this forever. What you would do more than anything to please him, hear how he moans, the way he’d praise you. The feeling of him inside of you, what did he even look like?

It didn't help that you two were constantly surrounded by one another in hidden corners of a ship, it wasn't cramped but it was definitely rendering you on edge as every corner you turned had a much higher potential of holding anakin than it usually would. Though, with that, the tension only grew stronger. Seeing him fresh out of showers with only cloth wrapping his lower half, catching staring eyes from across dining room counters and most of all, the words exchanged in the few moments left alone with one another in the confines of the ship.

“Where are you off too darling?

“To my room, didn't think anyone else was awake. I was just going to head to bed.”

You remember how close his face would inch towards yours, the soft clank of a heel that indicated one more step closer to yours. You remember the sly look on his face, a half cocked brow and egotistical smile, arms crossed and strands of hair littering his face.

“I don't think anyone else here is awake either. Well, I'm glad I caught you before then.”

The way he looked you up and down, subtle gnawing on his lip as he drank you in. the warm tug that drew your lips to his.

“Why's that? Did you need something?”

“Well I could tell you quite a few things I need from you.”

You also remembered the hissing of a door behind you as it indicated its opening. The feeling of the flutter in your heart quickly dies as dread follows in the wake of something interrupting such a moment. To turn behind you you greet a jedi that you barely remember the name of. And with that does Anakin take off once more through the same door-- eyes locked on you and a smile that feels as though it was coated with lust as his mind was a secret to you but his body told a similar story. Every part of it.

Lifting yourself off the bed you trail slow feet towards your door, an entrance to the room where anakin shared. Unsure of what you were meaning to do when you got to him, all you knew is that you needed to see him. Talk to him. Something.

Walking out into the common area you watch his eyes on you once more, growing from notice to intrigue as you grow closer to him. Those around him stop conversation briefly, tuned in also to what means you had to be out there.

“Hey Ani, do you think I could talk to you for a second?”

“Oh yeah, what's up?”

“Um,

Pausing for a second you don't know what to say. Everyone's eyes lay on you as they dissect your motives, morbidly curious about what you’re to say to him.

“Alone, please? You can just come into my room.”

A look on Anakin's face that was initially worry quickly molded into something much more lustful, the cocky grin coated his face once more and a hood to his eyes that insinuated that his mind was someplace much different than the rest of the people in the room regarding what you were implying. You didn't even know what you were implying. All you wanted was to go out there and see him, watch the way he moved and allow yourself to sink deep within his eyes and embrace the enchantment you held for his every feature. The desire you had for every inch upon his body.

“Say no more.”

A smirk curved on the right side of his cheek as he lifted himself up from his seat. Watching as his fingers comb through long hair that pushed it back for just a moment before laying perfectly upon his face, sculpting his face did slight waves along its side make way for a weakening gaze to fall upon you that made you feel as though your knees were to give out.

The short walk to your cabin felt like miles as every step that loomed behind you was an aura of uncertainty and tension that built up with every foot you moved closer behind that door.

The sound of the doors open and subsequent closing made your heart well up in anticipation, fear almost. You didn't know what to do, what to say. You had nothing to talk to him about other than your insatiable lust for him, and that wasn't quite on the table to casually discuss. Though as you look for the words to speak he says them for you.

“And what exactly did you need to talk to me about in silence, hm?”

He taunts you, it's clear in dark tone and greedy eyes that he knows precisely what is so hard to get out.

“Oh well I, I don't quite know how to say it.”

“Oh come on, use your words.”

“I'm trying it's just that I-”

“Spit it out baby I don't have all day.”

Banter back and forth as he capitalizes on your meekness comes to a head, and with the inability to put words into sentences at the face of him towering over you with a taunting glance you lean in for a kiss.

Anakin, caught by surprise, has eyes wide open, but after a moment passes a smile can be felt to grow wide on his lips as he deepens the kiss. Arms snake around your waist as he yanks you closer, both bodies flush against one another as your back curves slightly at the tug of his arms on the small of your back.

“Good girl, I wonder how long it’d take you.”

He lets up for breath and whispers in your ear as he moves a hand to your head, stroking your hair as your senses are overtaken by the words pouring into your ear. He sounded greedy, cocky. He had been toying with you, seeing how long it took until you broke. He loved watching you writhe under him, hums escaped your lips at the mere vibration of his voice against your body, the touch of his lips against yours.

You feel his knees bend slightly as his hands make swift moves to the back of your thighs, lifting you up does he return his lips to yours. Feeling him grunt inside your mouth as he walks you over to the bed, interlocking your legs around his as he tosses you on unmade sheets. Crawling on top of you does he deepen the kiss evermore, sticking his tongue into the back of your throat do you feel a growing bulge within his pants. Laid directly on top of you did you feel it grow mere inches above your heat, desperately you find yourself unconsciously grinding on it to feel it even more. He's big, even through loose pants does he leave no room for imagination as it presses up against you. Feeling it twitch through thin layers of cloth.

“Fuck-- ngh. Wasting no time hm?”

His hands caged you in at either side, he let up from your kiss to focus on the feeling you provided him below his waist. You felt as his hips started to follow rhythm with your waist, inching lower down your body so his bulge laid directly atop your heat.

Through desperate buckling of hips you speed up pace, feeling him right on top of you as the only thing separating him from you being a few pieces of cloth. Biting back your lip do you desperately try to hold back the moans that scratch at your throat at the feeling of him rubbing on you.

A hand falls on your mouth the moment you let one slip.

“Don't make a fucking sound. I know how much you love my cock baby, but we’ve got to stay quiet hm? Think you can do that for me?”

You nod your head in agreement. He removes his hand and fixes his rhythm atop you once more.

“Fuck it. I need to be inside of you.”

Legs straddle your lower half as his body folds to take off your pants. Cool air hits the exposed wetness of underwear as you feel a finger drag along its center.

“All of this for me baby?”

He teases your clit with his index, moving it in slow circles as he trails up and down your folds.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

Taking his own pants off does he leave no underwear on himself, revealing his cock that stood mere inches from your entrance.

Fuck he’s huge.

Leaning on you once more does he flush exposed cock along the slick coating your underwear. Kissing you slowly as he moves his hips up and down your heat.

“Mmhg, god, anakin please”

“Please what? Come on, speak up baby.”

“Please, please fuck me. I need to feel you I can't stand it anymore.”

“I love hearing you beg for me.”

He snakes a hand down to your underwear, pulling it to the side as he coats his cock with your juices. It takes everything in you not to whine out his name as he slowly teased you, feeling how hard his cock was against you moments before he finally put it in.

As he waits at your entrance for a moment, you feel him slowly sink into you as muted groans escape bitten lip.

“God you’re so tight.”

His head bucks up as he inches deeper in you, exposing a neck with small beads of sweat and defined jaw as his face looks up at the ceiling.

As his body grows flush against yours, you feel more full than you have in your whole life. No finger could ever suffice the sheer size of him, all the times you’d imagined him inside of you with even 3 of your own deep within you could never amount to how it felt now. The curve of his cock hitting the entrance to your womb, your entire body engulfed in flames at the feeling of him merely being warmed inside of you.

With steady motion he began moving in and out of you, your hands grip the sheets of your mattress at the mere feeling of him pumping in and out of you, legs instinctively shutting together at the feeling. Though with stern hands does he push you back upon again;

“Open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you.”

And you obliged, heavy calloused hands grip on your thighs as he gets steady motion inside of you. Labored breaths as his brows contort in pleasure upon finally feeling inside of you.

“You don't know how long I've wanted this baby. To finally fuck you like you deserve, I could have never imagined how tight you would be imagining you as my fist every night.”

your head turns into the sheets of your bed as he begins to pump into you harder-- your body overtaken by white hot pleasure that sank deep into your stomach as the only thing you could think of is how your body memorized his cock. The feeling of every vein and every inch, the way it curved into you and the constant push on the perfect spot that made you feel like you were going insane.

“Huhh, Anakin please don't stop. Please, please”

You begin to beg in a hushed voice as every word you spoke was laced with whines and moans.

“Oh what? Are you going to cum baby?”

You respond in a hummed moan that gives him all the information he needs. His hand trails to your clit as he begins to play with it as he thrusts into you. Picking up the pace of not only his hips but his fingers as they both make you go dumb with pleasure.

“Come on, cum on my fucking cock. Get even tighter for me baby I know you can do it. I want to feel your legs fucking shake for me, feel you convulse on my cock.”

You feel it well up inside of you as you boil over, and only a few more seconds after his demands were you plunged into a frenzy of movement under him. His arms grip your legs together as he pumps into you through your orgasm, never stopping for a moment as he rides it out using you even after you’ve finished.

“God-- anakin I cant. I cant please,”

“Come on, I know you can take it. Be a good girl will you?”

You lay flat against the bed as he uses you, fucking into you as though you were just a toy. But as your orgasm finished his was soon to build up. His thrusts becoming irregular and desperate, sweat collected on the ends of his hair as it fell into his face.

“Say my name.”

“A..Anakin”

“Say my fucking name.”

“Anakin!”

You yelp his name as he slams into you, feeling him pour into you as he dumps every last drop of himself inside of you. You feel him twitch inside of you as his cum seeps out of open edges of your insides as he stays flush to you through his orgasm. Legs slightly twitch as he seems hard to stand, and slowly he pulls himself out of you to leave only a pool of white leaking out of you in its wake.

“Let me get you cleaned up. Stay right there.”

He commands you as he walks into your bathroom a few feet away, gathering a towel to wipe along your heat and anywhere that has substances that can't quite stay there. Though through labored breath he continues;

“I think we’re going to have to do that more often, baby.”

#star wars #anakin skywalker #fanfiction #fanfic #anakin x reader #anakin fanfiction #hayden christensen #sw anakin #jedi anakin #star wars fanfiction #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x you

942 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 2 months

Text

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 5

So it's been about 3 weeks since my promised update. Oops. Main issue was breaking my first bone as I'm sure most of you saw. On my right wrist, of course. And being right handed, meant I could barely type for that first week.

But also this is a transition section of the story. And I was struggling with how to best write said transition. I am finally happy with it, though. To make up for being so late, this is a long one! Hope you enjoy. The total word count for this arc is now up to 9.6k. Do with that as you will.

Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.

Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: AO3; Tumblr - First, Last

Arc 3: First, Previous

Word Count: 3.6k (Told you it was a long one!)

-----

Pain was a constant through the rest of that never-ending drive. Danny would wake screaming from the nightmares only to continue screaming from the pain.

Tim was there every time. His words were soft and soothing, even when Danny couldn’t make out their meaning between the throbbing of his human chest and aching core. Any time he woke, Tim did his best to force ectoplasm and liquid foods down his throat. If Danny couldn’t manage even that much, he was given more of Frostbite’s ice chips.

When they finally, finally stopped for the last time, Danny cried in relief. Kon carried him out of the van, a blanket under him as a makeshift stretcher. TTK meant that he was held perfectly flat even though Kon was only holding one end.

Tim’s worried face peered down at him. “Kon’s going to fly you up, okay? I’ll let you in through the window. I’ve disabled all cameras, so no one will see you.”

Danny think he nodded. He wanted to. He must’ve done something because Tim brushed his fingers across Danny’s forehead, nodded, and disappeared from view. Then Danny was leaving the van. For the first time in Clockwork only knew how long. It was daytime, but the sky was overcast and gray.

When Kon flew with him, it wasn’t the weightlessness of his own flight. Instead, he felt like they were fighting gravity. He hated it.

But it was only the matter of a few moments before they approached an open window and Kon carried him in. He was in too much pain to take in most of the room, but he did see a TV bigger than any he’d seen outside of Sam’s home theater.

Kon didn’t stop, and he was carried into another room—a bedroom As they approached the bed, the sheets folded back on their own. Kon set him down as gently as possible, but pain shot up from his chest at even the slight change of position.

He stopped breathing, even the movements of his lungs were too much. Instead he just let the pain wash over him. Wave after wave of it. Vaguely, he was aware of someone grabbing his hand, of voices above him.

Gloved hands pressed something cold to his lips and Danny gratefully took the ice and the numbing coolness it promised. Not enough for full relief, nothing could give that right now. But by the time it was gone, he could at least think through the pain.

This time when he opened his eyes, he saw Tim’s worried face, Kon standing behind him.

“Back with us?” asked Tim.

Danny grimaced and nodded. He tried a shallow breath. It hurt, but he could somewhat function through it. “Sorry.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear apologies from you for at least a month. This isn’t your fault.”

“Sorry,” Danny repeated.

Tim just huffed. “How’s the bed? Do you need anything? Extra pillows?”

Danny bit his lip and let himself feel. The bed was soft. As far from the feel of the exam table as it was possible to be. It was also leagues better than the camping mattress he’d been using in the van. Honestly, it was probably better than his mattress back home. And the pillow was the perfect height for lying on his back. “It’s good.”

The look Tim gave him made Danny think he wasn’t believed, but after a moment Tim just nodded. “If you’re sure. Now, Kon and I are going to have to change your bandages and reapply the necessary creams and poultices. After, I want you to try and eat a little more.”

Danny groaned, already dreading the procedure. But it had to be done. He ignored the tears he couldn’t stop and met Tim’s eyes. “Just do it.”

Kon grimaced. “I’ll make it quick.”

Danny tried to smile back but he knew he failed when neither Kon nor Tim looked any less concerned. “I know. Thanks.”

And it was true. Kon’s TTK made the process so much easier that it would have been otherwise. However, there was no way to make it entirely painless. Especially when removing the final layer. Danny couldn’t keep from crying out as the gauze stuck to his wounds. Finally, his chest was bared to the world. Danny trembled with the pain of it before gathering his courage and looking down.

This was his first time seeing his chest since he’d been pulled out of the lab. The incisions were inflamed and leaking, though they were already scabbing over. Green ectoplasm and red blood mingled in the secretions.

Tim and Kon didn’t wait for him to catalog every mark, however. They quickly passed jars of Frostbite’s concoctions to each other and set to work covering every area of his chest. Cold spread in the wake of their ministrations and Danny nearly wept in relief.

“This is already looking better, Danny,” said Tim.

Danny scoffed, then winced as it pulled at the injuries. He clenched his eyes shut as he reminded his body he didn’t need to breathe.

“He’s right,” said Kon. “I don’t think even I’d be healing this quickly from injuries like yours.”

Danny didn’t say anything as they continued to work. When they were done with the medications, Kon reapplied the bandages. Tim gave him another piece of ice which Danny took with relief.

Danny mumbled a thanks around the ice.

“Anytime,” said Kon. “Mind if I take a picture of you so everyone can see you’re safe in Gotham now? Sam’s been texting me non-stop asking for updates.”

Sam’s concern is what finally allowed Danny to smile for the first time since he’d returned home and his parents had learned his secret. “Pull up the sheet first. And just to her and Tuck and Jazz, please. I don’t want your entire team to see me like this.”

“’Course,” agreed Kon. Without Kon moving at all, the sheet rose up out of the blankets at the base of the bed and covered him up to his neck. Kon then took out his phone and snapped a photo before tapping at the screen.

Immediately it started ringing in his hands.

“Are you up for talking to them?” asked Tim.

Danny shook his head. “Want to, can’t.”

Kon waved him off. “I’ll tell them what’s up. Eat something and get some sleep.” Kon turned away. As he left the room, Danny hear him answer the phone with a, “Hey, babe,” before he shut the door, muffling all noise.

“Yogurt, applesauce, or pudding?” asked Tim once they were alone.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. And another vial of ectoplasm.”

Danny sighed and asked for the applesauce. He only managed a few bites alternated with sips of ectoplasm before darkness pulled him under once more.

---

A throbbing pain slowly dragged him out of the blackness. He tried to cling to unconsciousness, but the throbbing was inescapable. With a quiet moan, he blinked awake in a dark room. For once, he was able to think past the pain. It was a constant, throbbing presence, but not as all consuming as it had been.

The mattress he was lying on was soft. So, so different to the hard table that had been his bed for those long hours in the lab. He twisted his head and rotated his jaw, relieved when the action wasn’t hindered by harsh restraints.

He was in Gotham, out of their reach. Tim was here and he was safe.

He was safe from his parents. His parents had— had— Danny’s breath caught and he couldn’t finish the thought. He pulled in a gasping breath. The ball in the back of his throat made it so hard to breathe.

He’d just… never thought they’d actually do it. He’d been so sure that once they realized who he was, they’d hug him and continue to love him. He couldn’t hold back the sob, loud in the silent room. His eyes burned and he didn’t even try to stop the tears.

Next to him, on the floor, blankets rustled and Danny tensed.

“Danny?” asked a sleepy voice from the floor. Tim was here?

“Sorry,” choked out Danny through ragged breaths. He was safe. His parents hated him. Nothing would ever be the same again.

“Don’t be.” The mattress dipped next to him as Tim sat down. “It’d be weird if you didn’t have a few breakdowns.”

“What’s going to happen to them?” Danny tried to wrap his arms around himself, but cried out at even the light pressure on his chest.

Tim pushed aside the thin sheet he’d been covered in and grabbed one of his hands. Danny clung to him until the sharp pain faded. And when it did, his breathing was more normal. His core still ached at the thought of his parents, but the physical pain had helped chase away the panic attack. At least for now.

“What’s going to happen to them?” he asked again; this time his voice was more stable.

“They’ve been picked up by the Justice League. Tucker is helping with getting all their files transferred to document their history. Jazz and Sam have been giving reports on their behavior, lab and home safety measures, and their actions. Others have begun questioning the general public on Amity. There’s currently a few magic users there trying to determine if they can shut down the portal.”

Something in Danny screamed out at the idea of the portal being gone and he tensed. “No! They can’t shut it down! Please, you can’t. It’s— I— you can’t.”

“What? What are you talking about? We have to at least look for a way to shut it down!”

He was crying. Why was he crying. “You can’t,” Danny repeated. “If it’s gone…” he trailed off. Why did he feel so strongly about this? The portal had done nothing but cause him problems since it had turned on. “I died there. I died for it,” he whispered. Something in him knew it was important. His ghost half refused to accept that the portal could just disappear. “If it’s gone, if it can just be turned off, what was it all for?”

And even that wasn’t the full story. The portal was his parents’ life work. It was the thing they spent time working on. It was what stole them away from Danny and Jazz. They missed Jazz’s recitals to work on it. They missed Danny’s science fairs. Every forgotten dinner or event could be tied back to that portal. And if it was gone, what was the point of it all?

Tim sighed and squeezed his hand. “We can’t just leave it open, Danny. It’s not safe.”

“I can design a door. A better one. One that actually works. Just… Leave it. Please. I can make it safe.”

Tim bit his lip and stared at Danny for a minute. “I’ll let them know it’s an option. I don’t know if they’ll go for it. Constantine is not happy with it existing. But I’ll see what I can do.”

Danny’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.”

Tim gave a half smile. “What are friends for? Now, think you’re up for something to eat? What do you want?”

Danny groaned. “Don’t wanna.”

Tim ruffled his hair. “Sorry, Polaris. Non-negotiable.”

“Chocolate pudding?” asked Danny.

“Sure. We can—”

Before Tim finished, a knock sounded on the door. “Someone ask for chocolate pudding?” called out Kon.

Tim laughed. “Come on in!” Without delay, the door opened and Kon walked in. It shut on its own behind him.

Even Danny couldn’t hold back the smile. He really had some great friends. “Spying on me, are you?” he asked.

“Not my fault you were talking so loud. Woke me up and everything!”

Danny, very maturely, stuck out his tongue. The grief he felt over his parents was hiding, ready to rear up again at any minute, but for now he had two friends with him. He would focus on that.

For the first time, Danny ate the entire pudding container and drank an entire vial of ectoplasm and wasn’t ready to pass out when he was done.

“Can we put on a movie or something? I don’t want to sit in the dark and quiet right now,” said Danny.

“’Course, Polaris,” said Tim. “What do you want to watch?”

“Kon, where’d we leave off in your movie list?” asked Danny.

But Kon held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m definitely going to fall asleep halfway through if we’re watching a movie. Pick whatever you want and don’t bring me into it.”

Danny pouted at him, but didn’t push. Kon hadn’t spent the last however many days sleeping. So he squeezed Tim’s hand and asked, “Then how about we put on some Star Trek? Short episodes and if we fall asleep, we’ve already seen them.”

Tim’s teeth were bright in the dark as he grinned. “I can definitely arrange that. You just lie there and keep looking pretty and I’ll pull it up. TOS or TNG?”

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Kon.

Both Danny and Tim ignored him. “I’m far from pretty,” retorted Danny. At Tim’s look, he rolled his eyes and said, “TOS.”

“Coming right up!”

Mounted to the wall facing the foot of the bed was a TV, smaller than the one in the living room, but still bigger than the one he had in his living room back home. Within minutes the opening, “Space, the final frontier,” rang through the room.

“Sorry, bit loud,” said Tim before adjusting it down a touch.

Danny didn’t bother replying as the episode started. Then Tim handed over a water bottle and settled back on the floor.

“What are you doing down there?” asked Danny.

“Getting comfortable? Where else would I go?”

Danny rolled his eyes, not that anyone could see. “This bed is huge. Sit next to me.”

“Won’t that jostle you?”

“Kon, move me over closer to the edge. Then you and Tim can join me.”

Kon laughed. “I think I’m going to go back to bed. I’m a morning person, unlike you two. But sure, I’ll move you to make room for Tim.”

Danny grit his teeth as Kon put his hands under his shoulders. Then he was wrapped in the strange sensation of TTK and his entire body was picked up and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Even as gentle as he was, pain radiated at the movement.

Danny clenched his eyes shut and stopped breathing until it passed. When it did, he slowly blinked open his eyes until the black spots faded and patted the bed next to him. “Get in, Secrets.”

“Are you sure?”

Danny glared and Tim grinned sheepishly as did as instructed.

But then he still tried to leave too much space. “Get closer.”

Tim grumbled under his breath, but shifted over a few more inches. He was sitting more upright than Danny was, but it was fine. Danny leaned his head against Tim’s side and finally let himself pay attention to the episode.

Next to him, Tim stiffened, but then relaxed and rested a hand on Danny’s head. “I’m glad you’re here, Polaris.”

Danny just hummed and let the show and Tim’s warmth help chase away the panic and grief he could still feel waiting for him.

---

Within two days, Danny was mostly able to sit upright. Frostbite’s medicines really were miraculous. Though he wished he could go to the Far Frozen and get stuck in a pod unconscious for a few hours and wake up fully healed.

He was video chatting with Ellie on the PDA Tucker had left him, complaining about being confined to bed.

She grimaced in sympathy. “I hate being stuck in one place.”

Danny laughed, then winced. “Trust me, gremlin, we know. You can’t even stay in the same city for more than a week.”

Ellie frowned and looked off to the side.

“What’s wrong?”

“What if—” she cut herself off and bit on her lip. Danny let her collect her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking of joining you. In Gotham.”

“What?” Danny was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. Ellie had never expressed an interest in coming to stay with him before, instead prioritizing her travels through both Earth and the Realms. “You want to come here?”

She frowned and glared at him. “You told me Superboy is there! And he’s a clone, too. I want to meet him.” Then she looked away. More quietly, she added, “’Sides, who’s gonna be able to keep your ass safe from ghosts if someone decides to attack while you’re injured? You certainly can’t protect yourself right now.”

For the first time since his parents captured him, Danny felt his core trill in happiness. She cared about him. “Of course you can come. I know Kon’s been hoping to meet you one of these days, too.”

She grinned widely at him. “Great.” She spun her PDA around and showed off the aerial view of a city. When she turned it back, she paused on the gargoyle she was sitting next to. “Because I’m already here. How do I find you?”

Danny’s mouth was hanging open again. “You— Ellie!” But he was grinning and holding back laughter, too. “I have no idea. Let me call in Kon and Tim. Maybe one of them can direct you.”

He didn’t even have to call for them before Kon was pushing open his door. “You need us?” he asked.

“Ellie wants to visit. Can one of you tell her how to get here?”

“Sure,” said Tim. “Where is she?”

Danny shrugged and held out the PDA. “Somewhere in the city. But I don’t know where.”

Tim blinked at him for a moment before shrugging and taking the device. “Well that makes it easier.” He looked down at the screen. “Hey, Ellie.”

“Oh my god, you’re Superboy! Huge fan,” she exclaimed. Kon had shoved himself next to Tim so he could see her.

He grinned. “I’m a huge fan of you, too. Sam’s told me some stories.”

“Glad you’re not dead anymore.”

Danny smacked his face when he heard her say that. Tim froze, wearing a fixed smile that Danny could see right through.

“Just tell them where you are,” said Danny as loud as he could.

“I’m getting there!” protested Ellie.

Kon burst out laughing. “I like you, Ellie.”

Danny couldn’t quite make out her reply, but it was enough to get Tim back into the conversation. “Turn invisible and fly down to the street. Show me the nearest street sign, okay? And then I’ll help you get here.”

“Or I could just fly out and meet her and bring her myself,” offered Kon.

“Yes!” cried Ellie. “That!”

Tim shrugged. “Just show us the nearest street sign, okay? I’ll figure out a good landmark for Kon to meet you at.”

Danny let his mind drift as they discussed potential meeting spots. Not even ten minutes later, Kon left.

Tim ran his hands through his hair and returned the PDA to Danny. “They should be back within twenty minutes. Anything we should get ready for Ellie?”

Danny shrugged. “No idea when the last time she ate would’ve been. Couldn’t hurt to have something ready.”

“Fine. I’ll blend you a smoothie and put a pizza in the oven. And set up the couch for her to sleep on.”

“Thanks, Secrets.”

“’Course, Polaris. Need anything before I go?”

Danny waved him off. “I’m good.”

Once he was alone, he pulled up the group chat with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.

Danny: Ellie’s come to gotham Jazz: Oh good! She arrived. How’s she doing? Danny: You knew she was on her way? And didn’t tell me Danny: Betrayal! Danny: She and Kon haven’t made it to the apartment yet. He just left to find her Sam: Oh good. Have Ellie talk to him about the benefits of stealing child support from an unethical creator Tucker: I’m sure both Tim and I will be *thrilled* to help him out Danny: He’s not stealing his child support? Sam: Nope. He’s an idiot about it. Danny: We gotta fix that Jazz: Tell us when she’s there! Jazz: Have Tim or Kon send a picture of the two of you Danny: Really? I’m still bed bound! Jazz: Picture. Jazz: It’s an order.

Danny groaned, but he was grinning through it. His friends were the best. He closed out of the chat and pulled up a game to kill time until Ellie got there.

He only made it through a level and a half before he heard a squealed, “Danny!” and running footsteps.

Ellie came to an abrupt stop at the side of his bed. Her hoodie had a few new patches since the last time he saw her, and she was frowning as she looked him over. “Are you really going to be okay?”

Danny held out an arm. “Come here, gremlin.”

She hesitated, but when he didn’t say anything else, she climbed into bed with him and Danny wrapped his arm around her in a gentle hug. He wished he could hug her tighter, but this would have to do.

“I’ll recover. Promise. I’m already doing better.”

“This is you doing better?” sniffed Ellie.

Danny winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. “I know. It’s a lot. Feels like a lot to me, too. But I’m okay. Or I will be.”

She sniffed and turned her face into his shoulder. Her voice was so soft he could barely hear it. “I can’t lose any more brothers.”

Danny’s eyes burned at that and he patted her shoulder. “I’m safe now. I promise. You’re not gonna lose me.” He wiped away his own tears as she shook under his arm. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and wished things had been different in so many ways.

-----

A wild Danielle appeared! I've been waiting to introduce her. Next big introduction will be some of Tim's siblings.

Honestly, there's a few things I was excited about introducing this segment! Can you guess the other big reveal I've been sitting on?

I'm going to wait to write any more of Arc 3 until I get all of Arc 2 on AO3. I've ended up rewriting more than I planned on, so editing is taking longer than I expected. Also the wrist. That hindered things a bit, too.

If you want notifications when I update, please check out my Subscription Post.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #tim drake #eventual dead tired #wolf writes #i love that i was finally able to bring in ellie #shes struggling too #(and danny has some misconceptions about her)#but theyre together now #ellie and kon are gonna cause all the shit #once ellie is sure danny isn't going to die on her

161 notes · View notes

nosesitter · 10 months

Text

Jacuzzi tub

| Father in law! Joel miller

3.8k words

a/n:same thing as the last chapter I started out with a different idea hated it so I deleted the whole thing and popped this out quicker than the last thing I was working on. I just wanna say THANK YOU for the love on the last part I had lots fun writing it. probably the next thing I write I’ll take a vote cause I have too many ideas but no where to start.

⚠️: infidelity!!!,father in law!Joel Miller, faking an orgasm, f!masturbation, one mention of m!masturbation, very generous and absolutely hot mentions of joel gaining a few extra pounds(I love a man with a big meaty body), recorded sex, they quite literally have sex in front of her husband!! his son!!, cucking?, one mention of pussy slapping, descriptive and sloppy m!oral, f!oral, Joel dirty talking and just being outta pocket, cream pie, unprotected pinv

In the fours years of you being with Walker you’ve never faked an orgasm, but now in the past few nights you’ve faked it three times. Your greedy cunt just missing the feeling of Joel, your father in law, who took advantage of you a couple days ago. Well…you kind of stopped him…but you kind of didn’t. You never filmed with Walker that night when he got home.

“I’m sorry baby I just have a headache right now.”

You can only use that excuse for so long, so now your ankles are on his shoulders and his eyes are locked on you while you’re trying your best to look interested, faking moans, and rolling your eyes back. It hurts that you have to act this way to your husband that you love so much but you’ve got a taste for his father. Joel hasn’t been over at all leaving you alone with your thoughts on the whole situation. As your in your head Walkers’ thrusts begin to get frantic, pumping into you faster, his neck and face getting red as he starts spills inside of you. He pulls out and falls besides you eyes shutting immediately he’s asleep now.

You can feel him beginning to spill out of you so you get up and head to the bathroom to take a bath. As you’re waiting for the tub to fill up you sit and just look at the tub itself. It’s a jacuzzi tub. a wedding gift from Joel to you. The house never came with a bath but after very little convincing Joel was happy to install one for you right next to the shower. He spent a couple months remodeling the bathroom around to give you what you wanted. The sounds of him laboring away while you were a couple rooms over editing videos for your onlyfans. To thank Joel for your bathroom everyday you made him lunch and baked him lots of sweets.

As the water rises above the jets you flip them on, the humming of them kicking on causing water to bubble up. Slowly stepping in letting your body get used to the hot temperatures before sinking in. You add a little bubble bath and let it foam up around you. The tension around your neck begins to let up and your shoulders start to relax. As you sit in the bath you think more about your twisted situation with Joel, you want it to disgust you, to make you want to cry, and confess to your husband but you can’t. There’s just a tingle between your legs as you sit in the tub he installed just for you.

When he finished installing the tub he came downstairs to see you in the kitchen, wrapped up in a ‘kiss the cook’ apron, your arms and hands covered in flour as you were making him a pie from scratch to thank him. You look up at him and notice him staring at you but thinking more about that moment you take notice in how you’re cooking has made him gain a few extra pounds, sending him home with dinner and dessert nearly every night. It came to a point where he had to stop you because even he began to take notice in how his shirts fit just a little tighter and the extra hole he poked with his knife into his belt.

“Look what you’re doing to me darlin’ “ he says as he sits on the couch unbuckling his belt, then unbuttoning his pants letting a bit of his gut come out from as he takes a deep breath.

Your mind comes back to you in the tub and the jet that poking right into your lower back is about to get used for something else right now. You turn around and align yourself with the water being pushed out at a firm pressure. You scoot closer your knees spreading into the porcelain tub, your hands grab at the rim of the tub holding yourself level with the jet. Your buck your hips forward and the jet pulses right into your cunt. You moan out in shock and grip the edge of tub tighter in your hands. Hips bucking over the jet to start a rhythm, your thighs beginning to shake one hand lets go of the tub and grab at your chest, taking your nipple in between your fingers pulling ever so slightly at it

Your mind going right back to Joel sitting on your couch legs spread, pants undone, one hand holding a beer and the other bent behind his head. He looked so goddamn good that night. Now your mind can’t help but think about how the night could’ve gone different if you just straddled his big thighs and slowly grounded yourself into him. You imagine he’d just watch you on top of him, still in his lax state maybe even taking va sip of his beer while you go crazy on his jean covered lap. Your feet start to ache from the pointed state they are in but your orgasm is so close you can feel it. you close your eyes breathing from your mouth, the heat of the water causing a couple beads of sweat to roll down your temple. Slowly rocking yourself into the jet the water begins to slosh around. Like a chant, your mind just screams Joel. At this point you can’t help but think about him and how’d he look if you rode him. The way his face would contort, the noises he’d make, and the dirty filthy things he’d say about you.

Something along the lines of ‘cock hungry housewife’ or ‘his slutty daughter in law’

Your knees try to shut by themself as you begin to ride out your orgasm. Your hands holding tight onto the edge of the tub, you feel like you’ll float away if you let go. As you reach your peak Joel’s cocky smile flashes behind your eyes and you can’t help but let his name escape your lips making the infidelity seem so real now. Your knees drop and you’re a panting mess, pressing the top of your body into the cold tub you just dangle your arms over the tub and catch your breath. Praying and hoping to god Walker didn’t hear you moan his fathers name.

The bath water goes cold by the time you get out. Giving your legs a break from the beating they took from you and the jet. Slipping your robe on and slowly opening the bathroom door, peaking around to see your husband, leg dangling off the bed and his face shoved into the pillow. He heard nothing. The lump in your throat subsides, for now, as you slip into bed. Checking your phone you left on the nightstand you see two texts from Joel. One an attachment and another a text. Your heart races as you unlock your phone and press on his notification.

My third time today jerking off, can’t stop thinking about your tight pussy

It’s a picture of him watching porn. By the way he’s taking the picture it seems like he has his phone very close to his face as he shows his bare.. hairy… meaty thighs and his cock hard as can fucking be. When your eyes make contact with it, you flip your phone screen down into the blanket trying to think if you saw that correctly. Raising it back up you look at his angry red tip and the ropes of cum in his open hand on his thigh. Your eyes race all over the picture and you make out what he was watching. Your fingers pinch the screen to zoom in and the screen says.. daughter in law is an easy fuck!!

———

You slept with your phone clutched close to you last night, scared that Joel was going to send another text and Walker was going to look at it.

By the time you wake up it’s a little after 10 in the morning. Walker has a dentist appointment today and you told him to wake up so you could take him but he loves letting you just sleep in. Your mind races a million miles a minute as you look at your phone and see that he’s going to ask his father to pick him up and drop him off. Do you get ready? do you wear a lot or very little clothing? do you do your makeup? First you decide to brush your teeth and comb your hair but somewhere along the way you started doing your makeup, mascara, eyeliner, and a pair of lashes. If you were going to see Joel you were going to look good.

Not knowing what to do with yourself you decide to just sit on the couch and wait for Walker and Joel. Ten minutes of twiddling your thumbs later and Joel’s truck pulls up in the driveway. Leaping off the couch and going to the window peaking a little from behind the blinds to see Joel rushing to the passenger side door as Walker, who looks absolutely drugged up, opens the door body dangling out. You watch Joel be soft with the boy, grabbing his hands, steadying his body against the truck as Joel grabs his medicine. It’s a tender moment and even with what happened between the two of you he loves his son, his only kid, he’ll always love him. You open the door and Walker pushes himself off his father and onto you engulfing you in a big hug that pushes you back a little.

“My wife! Ah..god I love saying that,” Joel grabs him off you and walks him further into the house. “I want to go upstairs! I want to make love to my wife!” Walker demands to his father, causing your face to go red, you can feel the heat rise off your body when Joel snickers a little at that comment. Joel just grabs his sons arm and drapes it over his shoulder as they walk side by side up the stairs. He kicks the door open with his dirty boot and then drops his son spread on the bed. Within seconds Walkers’ eyes begin to close but you’re quick to get him comfortable before he can pass out from the drugs. Joel goes back downstairs and a few moments later returns with a beer in his hand and Walkers medicine in the other.

“Doc said his mouth gauze needs to be changed every three hours.” Taking a big sip of the beer as he tosses the bag on the bed. The bottle leaves his lips, a line of saliva keeping him connected to the bottle, causing him to swipe his tongue across his bottom lip. it’s almost like an invitation for you to do something. His eyes wonder from you then to the bathroom right at the tub he installed.

“You liking the tub?” He begins to walk closer to you, the neck of the bottle being held by his thick fingers. You rise from Walkers side staring right into Joel’s eyes. “I remember when you asked me to install it,” his fingers coming up to push back some of the hair in your face. “I agreed happily cause I knew you’d be rubbing your pussy against the jet.” Your breath hitches in your throat and Joel takes notice in that your reaction making him chuckle. “Goddamn dirty slut!” His words echoing through the room, Walker snoring lightly besides y’all.

“I made myself cum on it last night.” It comes out of you so honestly that you can’t think about why you said it until after it sits in the air. He sets the empty bottle on the night stand and notices your wedding ring there as well. You wanted this and he sees that, it sends a bolt of electricity through his chest.

“Take off my clothes.” He tells you and you comply not really needing to be told twice or at all, you want him bare, you want to see his body and all the age and history it holds. Every scar and bruise you want to kiss, to run your tongue down his chest, over his stomach. The salty taste of him on the tip of your tongue as you run it down his peppered happy trail.

Falling to your knees quick, small hands tugging at his belt, to pull it out in one swoop and then unbuttoning his pants, your hand tries to push itself inside his boxers but he just grabs at your wrist shaking his head. “Gotta work for it, bitch.” You’re so taken back by him saying that but he keeps you in check by grabbing your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks tightly with his fingers. “Daddy didn’t tell you to stop did he?” It’s crazy how you’re eating this shit up right now.

Joel’s lips smash into your squished face, his hand moving from your face to your throat applying light pressure to the sides with his thumb and pointer finger. He pulls away and his eyes are black with lust at this point, your face is burning up you can feel your wetness beginning to seep out the sides of your panties, the cold wood floor keeping your body from engulfing in flames. Your husband, his son asleep right next to y’all.

“G’head you ain’t done with me yet, sweetheart.” You stand back up and grab the edge of his shirt pulling it off his chest and over his arms, his salt and peppered chest hair sits so nicely spread in the middle of his tan pecs. A bit of his stomach rolling over his boxers, god he’s look so fucking hot, so…big, so..delicious. You grab his face in your hands and press your lips hard back into his, he slips his tongue inside your mouth, an animalistic urge takes over you as you bite down on the appendage. He pulls back and lets out a low growl his thumbs snaking down to hook into his boxers as he lets them slide down his thick thighs. His cock coming out and slapping against his lower stomach.

“G’me my phone,” he holds his hand out and you grab it from his pile of clothes and hand it to him. He swipes it open and then holds it above his stomach the back camera pointing right at you. “don’t get shy on me now.” He says and you give him an evil smile as you begin to tie your hair back ready to give him the sloppiest head in his life. Your hands holds his cock straight your tongue swirling around the tip before you pull back and spit right at it using the spit as lube in your hand.

You take him back in your mouth going fully down your nose getting tickled by the mound of pubic hair on him. He moans out as you let him rest in the back of your throat swallowing around the tip. He grabs the back of your messy ponytail with his free hand and pulls you off him, lines of spit connecting his cock to your mouth. You look at the camera and give it a little giggle before you go back to sucking, your hand jerks the rest of him while you take just the tip, you pull moan after moan from him it’s music to your ears to hear him like this. His hand goes back to your ponytail pushing you deeper onto him earning gags to come from your throat.

“This girl right here is my daughter in law, look at the way she sucks cock, her father in laws cock.” His praise just eggs you on to give the camera a real show one that they’ve never seen with your husband. Your hands grab at his ass as you push him deeper into your throat, you stay still for a few seconds just breathing through your nose as you moan on his cock. You finally pull back when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. Lines of spit falling from your mouth, you look up at the camera and breathe through your mouth causing spit bubbles to rise and pop.

He pulls you up by your armpit and walks you to the edge of the bed where he tosses you like laundry onto it. Joel pushes walkers legs to his side of the bed and lays you back further on it. His upper half of his body is resting on the bed while one leg steadies himself he grabs your legs and motions them over his shoulders while he lowers his head down to your wet cunt. He licks a stripe up you, you let out a lewd moan at the contact of his tongue on you. His lips kiss at your clit, sucking lightly rubbing it between his lips. Your hands grab at the phone that’s still recording, you hold it steady as you capture him eating you out happily. His head moves back as his hand comes around to pull back your mound exposing your clit to the cold bedroom air. The tip of his tongue just assaults your clit relentlessly. Your moans getting louder and louder, you spread your arm reaches out and you accidentally to touch Walker, you recoil your free hand back into Joel’s hair.

Greedy hands push his head into you, slowly grinding yourself into his mouth. He moves his head away this time hand coming down to slap your clit. Your mouth gapes open you want to scream from the contact but your hand just goes over your mouth.

“Greedy girls get punished, don’t do it again otherwise you won’t cum.” You dare not toy with him because you know he’ll stop. The thought of being edged sounds fun but not when you’ve been craving Joel for three days now. His hand grabs the phone as he pushes himself up to his knees he moves closer to you your legs going around his waist to pull him in. He lines himself up with you and slowly pushes in the camera getting in close to capture your hungry cunt taking his whole thick length. You take a breath when he bottoms out he slowly begins moving.

“Fucking hell-‘ he hisses out as he slowly starts to move.” She’s sucking me back in.” He’s referring to your pussy that’s clenching so hard around him. You want him to always be inside of you, while you wash the dishes, while you cook, you know that Joel has a home office maybe one day you can go over while he works and just sit on his cock. His pace gets faster and faster the bed staring to shake from his thrusts.

“Already creamin’ on me darlin’.” His accent sounds like melted honey in your ears, Walker does his best to conceal his accent, but not Joel he embraces his Texan roots and you find the southern charm irresistible. “Mmm, darlin’ you are sweeter than your pies.” His thumb rubbing small circles in your clit stops as he licks the spent from his finger. You can feel your burning orgasm coming you feel like you’re going to explode.

He pulls out of you quickly causing you to whine at the loss. He grabs your thigh and flips you around making you stare right at Walker who’s still passed out. Your ass is hiked up in the air Joel pressing himself back into you and starting up his ruthless pace. “Fuck look at that ass shaking.” He says and a hard slap lands on your ass, your mouth biting into the comforter to stop any noise from coming out but the sound of skin on skin defeats the purpose.

“Daddy-please let me cum!” You whine out between his thrusts, the tip of his dick hitting your cervix each time. He drops his phone down on the bed, one hand on your hip and the other coming around your thigh to press your stomach in feeling his cock rub against your insides. You’re drooling at this point so cock drunk that you can’t help what you say or do next.

“Cum in me again daddy, put a fucking baby in me!” You scream out and who is Joel to deny the request of a beautiful woman. He thrusts into you faster then let’s out an echoing moan as he spills inside on you. The feeling of him blowing his load is enough to send you over the edge. Screaming into the comforter as he thrusts his cum deeper inside of you. He pulls out and falls on your side of the bed. Walker, his wife, and his father all in the same bed it’s a twisted fucking scene for sure. You try to move but your legs feel stuck just scooting up the bed right in the middle of them.

“I’ve been faking my orgasms for the past couple nights.” You tell him bluntly, you tell him like it’s his fault because is it. He’s ruined you for your husband and he knows it. You’ve also ruined him, how is he supposed to go back to having pussy from a rando. He wants his daughter in law, his kinky daughter in law who sucks and fucks like his own personal pornstar.

“Well when you feel like that darlin, just break something and you know I’ll be over in a heartbeat, just for you.” Walker begins to move around groaning at the pain that’s coming from his mouth that causes Joel to get up and begin getting dressed. You sit up and begin to take care of your husband. Joel gives you a light whistle as you take the bloody gauze out of walkers mouth your head turning to look at the door. He gives you a wink and blows you a kiss then walks out the door leaving you with your husband once again.

———

Like, comment, reblog, validate me 🫶🏻

0808

#joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #father in law!joel miller #nosesitter

405 notes · View notes

patheticdarling · 2 years

Text

Traitors

Summary: Princess Y/N Velaryon has now been confined to her bedchambers as preparations are made to crown Aegon II as King. She is given the choice to betray her mother and family or her husband, Prince Aemond.

Warnings: mentions of death/incest cause of marriage (established relationship with rhaenyra & laenor/harwin’s eldest daughter)/cussing/crying/arguments/pregnancy/marriage strain/break up?/ANGST/part 2...possibly?/ALL RIGHTS TO HBO

Word Count: 3530

*NOT MY GIF*

You were woken by the sounds of jingling keys and voices outside your door. You were quick to get out of bed, going over and rattling the locked knob.

“What is the meaning of this?” No answer, “I demand you unlock this door.” Again, nobody said anything. You could hear the armour of the guards shifting as they stood in front of your door.

More voices came from your window, you peered into one of the courtyards of the Red Keep. All the servants and workers rushing around. Something wasn’t right. You had even finally taken notice that Aemond was not in your bed. His sword and other weapons gone as well.

You paced around your room for what seemed like hours. You tried to distract yourself by getting dressed, doing your hair, and even tidying up your bedchambers. Yet, you still continued to ponder all the reasons there would be to keep you confined to your rooms like this.

You sat at the window before the door squeaked open, your mother-in-law, the Queen, stepping in, “Good morning, Princess Y/N.”

You took note of her rather glum demeanor but your frustration still got the better of you, “Good morning?” you scoffed, “I’ve been locked in my chambers for Gods know how long and that’s all you’ve got to say to me?”

“Apologies for the lack of decorum,” she sniffled a bit.

“Has something happened?”

“The King,” she stifled a bit before collecting herself, “he has passed.”

Your chest welled with sorrow at the news of your grandsire’s death, “How? When? I-I just saw him at dinner. How could this…” your voice faded as you let out soft cries, falling into a nearby chair.

The Queen rushed over to you, taking your hands in hers as she knelt beside your seat, “I’m so sorry, Princess,” she comforted you, “I loved your grandsire, more than-”

Your mind finally caught up, “Wait,” you loosened your hands from hers, “But what does that have to do with me being locked in my room? And where is Aemond?”

Alicent stood back up, “Aemond is out with Ser Criston at the moment.”

“Doing what? Where?”

“Royal duties that needed attending to in the city. He is well, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What I’m really asking is what in Seven Hells is going on?” your tone louder than before as you sniffled, “Why are Aemond and Ser Criston gallivanting in the city?”

“Those matters are between the Prince and me.”

You rolled your eyes at her explanation, “Does my mother know about Viserys’ death? Has a raven been sent to her?” Alicent swallowed harshly at your questions, “Your Grace?”

“Princess Rhaenyra will be notified in due time-”

“Due time?! Her father is dead. She is to become Queen. My mother needs to know,” you erupted from your seat, “And what of my grandmother? The Princess Rhaenys. Where is she?”

“The Princess Rhaenys is in her chambers as well. Hopefully thinking over the offer I have given her.”

“Offer? What offer? And what of our dragons?”

“Princess Y/N,” she took your hands once again, “Your Grandsire, my husband, confessed something to me before his passing.”

“W-What?” your brow furrowed at her words.

She cleared her throat, “He said he wished for Aegon to be King.”

You ripped your hands away from her, “What? What are you talking about? King Viserys has never once swayed from having my mother as his heir. And now you’re saying that just before he died that he said he wanted my uncle to succeed him?”

“It is the truth. Believe it or not. I would not lie about-”

“He is your son, Alicent! Ever since he was born, you and your father have been trying to get him installed as heir. And now that my grandsire can no longer defend my mother’s claim, you plan to usurp the throne for him.”

“It was your grandsire’s dying wish, Princess. I am doing this to honour his memory. And I am asking for your support.”

“You are asking me to betray my own mother? My entire family. So that your son can become king.”

“They are not your entire family. You have Aemond and your baby,” she nodded towards your swollen belly, your hands instinctively wrapping around it, “If we have your support, it might help in getting Rhaenyra to bend the knee as well. That is also why we must keep your dragons.”

You shook your head, “This is treason. And I will not be used as a bargaining chip for your political schemes.”

Alicent scoffed, “What do you think your marriage to Aemond is, Princess? I only agreed to the match because it’s what Viserys wanted and because it was supposed to help bring our families back together, to amend those grievances.”

“And yet, here you are, making your plans to steal my mother’s throne. Every grievance in our family is no one’s fault but yours and your power-hungry father’s. My grandsire was a kind man with a gentle heart and you are destroying his memory. Get out.”

Alicent let out a heavy sigh, “I will leave you to ponder your decision, Princess. Ring the bell when you have your answer.”

And with that, the Queen left your chambers. You scoffed to yourself, thinking how could one person have so much nerve? And now you were a prisoner in what was supposed to be your home.

Hours seemed to pass once again as you pondered all of your thoughts. Thoughts on how to escape. Thoughts on where Aemond might be. Thoughts on how to get to your mother and family. All thoughts were interrupted as the bedroom door creaked open once again.

You looked up from the book you had been reading, “Hello, my love,” your husband smiled at you, his hair slightly tangled, looking as if he’d just been in some sort of scuffle.

“Aemond,” you rushed over to him, letting his long arms embrace you. You couldn’t help but cry softly into his chest, “Viserys, he’s-”

“Dead,” Aemond finished, “I know. I’m sorry I was not here to grieve with you.”

You pulled away, “Your mother said you were out in the capital with Ser Criston. Though she refused to tell me why. And what’s happened to you?” Your hands softly caressed his mangled hair and reddened face.

“She sent us to go find Aegon. To bring him back here for his coronation tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” you scoffed, “I have to give your mother credit. Her schemes work fast.”

“It is not a scheme, Y/N. Aegon is the rightful king, it’s his birthright.”

“Please do not tell me you’re actually supporting this usurping of my mother’s throne?”

“Rhaenyra cannot rule the Seven Kingdoms. War will ensue if she were to wear the crown.”

“And it won’t if Aegon is crowned instead?” Aemond didn’t answer, “Aegon is not fit to be king, you know that better than anyone. And my mother nor Daemon will ever bend the knee to him. Nor will my brothers, which you know.”

“They will have to or be branded traitors to the realm-”

“Your mother and her father are the traitors! So is everyone else who is complicit in Aegon’s ascension,” you argued, “King Viserys named my mother as his heir and did not waver from that for the past twenty years that Aegon’s been alive. Why would he have now?”

“Perhaps he realized the importance of tradition. And why putting Rhaenyra on the throne would be a mistake.”

“Oh, Aemond, please! Do not spout to me the importance of tradition. The King’s word is law.”

“And the laws and traditions say that the King’s firstborn son is-”

“Firstborn child,” you corrected him, “The laws and traditions say that the King’s firstborn child is the rightful heir. And that is my mother. Not Aegon. Even so, Viserys named my mother as his heir. Lords of the Realm swore oaths to her claim. Your mother and grandsire included.”

“Stale oaths, Y/N,” Aemond explained, “Those lords only did that to keep the King’s peace.”

“And whoever chooses to follow Aegon is no longer doing their duty of up-keeping that peace. The minute they put that crown onto his head is the minute they are declaring war against my mother.”

“Not if you bend the knee,” Aemond took your hands in his, “Rhaenyra will not attack the capital if her daughter is in it. Her grandchild as well.”

You snatched your hands from him, “You sound just like your mother,” you scoffed, “I am not a political pawn, Aemond. And I will not be kept hostage in my own home.”

“Y/N, that is not what I meant-”

“What else could you have meant, Aemond? I will not betray my mother nor will I allow you or your mother to paint me as a traitor for the sake of some power-hungry grudge that you all hold against mine.”

Aemond let out a harsh sigh, “Y/N, please. This isn’t just about your mother or mine. This is about us and what will happen if you do not bend the knee. We will be separated. Torn apart by a war that is not our own. Please, my love,” he took one of your hands while the other fell to your bump, “I do not want to lose you or our child.”

Your breath quivered as you met his gaze, placing your hand on his cheek, “And I do not want to lose you either.” Aemond’s demeanor eased at your words, “But I will not betray my family. I will not bend the knee to anyone but my mother.”

His jaw tensed, “You are choosing to break us apart then.”

“No, you are choosing to break us and the rest of the realm apart. I can assure nothing but destruction and loss will follow if Aegon is crowned. Aemond, you must realize this.”

“I realize that my wife does not understand the importance of up-keeping traditions and laws. Aegon is my brother, Y/N. You should not expect me to betray him.”

You scoffed, “But you expect me to betray my mother.”

“I expect you to do your duty to the Realm-”

“I am!” you shouted, “I have always done my duty to the Realm! I have always done my duty to my family. I have always done my duty to you. But what you ask is not duty. It is treason.”

Aemond just shook his head, “I am not losing you. Or our child,” he grabbed his sword from the side of the bed, strapping it to his waist once again.

“Aemond,” you grew worried, “What are you doing?”

“You do not wish to see them put the crown on Aegon’s head. That’s fine. You will stay here until the ceremony is finished.”

Aemond swung the chamber door open, you didn’t even realize what was happening fully until it shut in your face. You pounded against it as you heard the lock click.

“Aemond!” you cried, “Aemond, do not do this!”

“It is what has to be done, Y/N,” he spoke from the other side of the door, “I will not lose you.”

“Aemond, please,” your voice quivered.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, his voice barely above a whisper before clearing his throat, “I will return when the ceremony is complete.”

That was the last you heard from him followed by the fading sounds of his boots on the cobblestone. In one fell swoop, the Greens had managed to destroy one of the best parts of your life because of their constant thirst for the crown.

You lay in bed for the remainder of that night, tears staining your pillow and deep sobs erupting from your chest. Though somehow, you had managed to find some sleep. But the sounds of some sort of scuffle outside of your room woke you up.

Ser Erryk Cargyll entered the room alongside your grandmother, “What’s happening?”

Your grandmother had a cloak over her, “Y/N, we must go now.”

“With me, Princess,” Ser Erryk extended a similar cloak to you.

You quickly threw it over yourself before taking your grandmother’s hand and following behind the two of them.

“Grandmother, what’s going on? Where are we going?” you panted as you all hurried through the Red Keep. Your breath nearly ceased as you saw the hanging body of Lord Caswell in the courtyard. You don’t know what could have warranted such a thing, he’d been kind to you growing up in the castle.

“We are getting you out of this city,” Ser Erryk answered.

“What of our dragons?” Rhaenys asked, “I won’t leave Meleys.”

“And I won’t leave Seasmoke,” you cut in.

Ser Erryk gave you both looks of pity as you trudge through the crowds of people in the city. City Watchmen were ushering people every which way, all three of you getting mangled in the crowd. Though your grandmother kept a tight grip on you, Ser Erryk was pushed ahead.

Your grandmother tightened her grip on you, “Do not let go of my hand, Y/N.”

You nodded as the crowd continued to push you forward. You looked up to see where everyone was going, seeing the Dragon Pit in the distance. You exchanged a knowing smirk with your grandmother. Aegon was to be crowned in the Dragon Pit.

The two of you had finally reached the Dragon Pit, Ser Erryk still lost somewhere in the sea of people that crowded into the building. You saw your family-in-law standing on a platform in the middle along with the High Septon and Ser Criston Cole. Aemond stood stoically, Helaena looking uneasy while your mother-in-law and her father only stood pridefully.

“People of King’s Landing,” Otto Hightower spoke up, “today is the saddest of days. Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead.”

Murmurs spread through the crowds at the news. Alicent looking melancholy, you weren’t sure if it was genuine or not. You looked at your husband, still standing statuesque. It broke your heart to see him up there. To see him so complicit in breaking apart everything you had built together.

“But it is also the most joyous of days,” Otto continued, “for as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish: that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him.”

The satisfaction in his voice nearly made you ill. The applause that erupted from the crowd hurt you even more so. You knew not everyone was in favour of your mother becoming Queen but did it truly take so little for everyone to turn against her?

Just then the City Watch and other members of the royal guard filed into the Dragon Pit. Pushing through the crowds and creating a path from a side entryway of the Dragon Pit to the platform where the Greens stood. Trumpets were blown before the City Watch presented their swords, holding them high and forming a tunnel. Aegon stood at the end of it, your grandsire’s dagger on one hip and a sword on the other.

Aegon began to walk through the makeshift tunnel as the guards lowered their swords as he passed them. Everyone in the Dragon Pit practically held their breath as he walked through the crowd.

“They gave him Blackfyre,” your grandmother whispered over to you.

Your eyes fell to the large Valyrian steel sword that rested on your uncle’s hip as he walked, “Aegon the Conqueror’s sword.” It made you uneasy to see such a powerful weapon in the hands of an ingrate like Aegon.

“It is your good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this:” Otto started up again, “a new day for our city, a new day for our realm. A new king to lead us.”

Alicent stepped to greet Aegon with a kiss on his forehead before guiding him to the High Septon. You and your grandmother continued to watch as Otto instructed Aegon to kneel before the High Septon.

You felt your grandmother’s hand on yours, “Come, Y/N.”

“Where are we going?” you whispered as she pulled you along through the crowds. The High Septon’s words faded as you got further away from the platform.

“We are getting the dragons and we are leaving,” she answered hastily as you ran through the dark tunnels beneath the Dragon Pit.

“Wait,” you stopped dead in your tracks, your grandmother’s hand slipping through yours.

“What?” she looked over you worriedly, “What is it?”

“Aemond,” you answered softly, “I-I don’t want to leave him.”

“Y/N, you are Rhaenyra’s firstborn daughter, a challenge for the throne. Your child as well. Do you truly think the Greens will let either of you live?”

You shook your head as tears fell onto your cheeks, “Aemond would never. He-”

“It is not Aemond that you should be worried about. It is everyone else. Aegon, the Queen, Otto Hightower,” she took your hands into hers, “You and your child are no longer safe here in King’s Landing. We must get to Dragonstone. We must warn your mother and Daemon. They are all in danger.”

You knew she was right. Aemond would try to protect you. But for how long? What happens when he’s sent off as an envoy on behalf of his family? Who would protect you and your child then?

“Fine,” you nodded, “You’re right, Grandmother. We need to go now.”

She stroked your cheek, “I’m sorry this is how it has to be, sweet girl.”

Your hand fell onto hers, “As am I. But we must go.”

The two of you went off to where both dragons had been nesting. Seasmoke growled as he woke up.

“Shhh,” you purred at him. His growls turned to deep coos at the sound of your voice, “Sȳz valītsos.” Good boy.

You stroked the side of his large head, continuing to soothe him in High Valyrian. You carefully climbed up his side and onto the seat on the top of his back. You could hear the ceremony continuing.

“The crown of the Conqueror passed down through generations,” you heard Ser Criston’s voice, muffled by the cement above you, “Let the Seven bear witness: Aegon Targaryen is the heir to the Iron Throne.”

There was some sort of pause before the High Septon began to speak, “All hail His Grace, Aegon, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!”

Your face curled in disgust at all the titles having been bestowed upon Aegon. He never deserved to bear them nor had he ever shown any interest in doing so.

The bells of the city began to toll, “Aegon the King!” Ser Criston cried. The crowds of citizens erupted into cheers and applause. How could they cheer for such a lecherous man?

Your thoughts could hardly register when you heard the harsh roar of Meleys and the crumbling of the stone above you. Meleys broke through the floor, terrorizing everyone in the Dragonpit. Seasmoke crawled to the top as well, roaring deeply. Both dragons stomped through the clouds of rubble.

They both finally settled as Seasmoke growled deeply at the Greens while Meleys moved slightly closer to them. The Greens stood petrified by the fear of you and your grandmother’s dragons. Alicent pushed Ser Criston to guard Helaena while she stood protectively in front of Aegon. Aemond tried to stand bravely, staring down the dragons in a futile attempt.

You looked over to your grandmother, unable to read her face as Meleys continued to approach the Greens, “Grandmother,” you called to her, soft pleas in your eyes. She looked at you, letting out a sigh as she turned back to the Greens. Alicent closed her eyes, preparing for your grandmother to utter the word that would have ended them all.

Your eyes fell on your husband, his gaze already fixated on you, “I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered back, biting back tears. You closed your eyes as well, trying to ready yourself to hear the cries of burning people. But your hands quickly flew to your ears as Meleys let out an ear-piercing shriek.

Your eyes blinked open, the Greens were unharmed other than looking completely terrified. Your grandmother looked over to you, giving you a slight smile before patting Meleys who turned and flew out of the Dragonpit.

You turned back one last time, looking at your husband, his face begging you to stay. But you both knew that wasn’t a possibility anymore.

“Soves,” you whispered to your dragon. He turned and quickly flew out of the Dragon Pit. You looked back to see the doors to it shutting completely.

You looked at the sky and clouds that now surrounded you. It should’ve been a joyous feeling, to have finally escaped what could have been a dire situation. But all you could think about was the look on Aemond’s face. His entire demeanor begging you to stay. And you left him all the same. You might not have betrayed your mother. But you were still a traitor in an even worse way.

2K notes · View notes

ch4nb4ng · 1 year

Text

Over the 8 seas: Jisung

Pairing: afab!reader x jisung

Word count: 9.1k … (yeah we got off track on this one)

Warnings : dom!jisung, sub!reader, lots of mentions of breast, masturbation (m and f), titty fucking (?), intercourse, mentions of male ejaculation, praise, perv (jisung is a massive perv lmao), Inspo (warning: it’s literally porn), male aggression, mentions of intoxication and alcohol.

Note: welcome to another installment !! tagging @j-0ne25 bc they wanted to be tagged:) hope you enjoy :))))

Summary: One thing leads to another when Jisung admits to having his eyes on you when he definitely shouldn’t have.

Over the 8 seas masterlist

The salt of the air, the combination of the water and descending of the sunrise was not only the signal of the closing day, but the winding down of the summer season for another year. The peak was over, and that meant your stress levels could go back to what they were before this all started.

Lifting a very heavy weight off of your shoulders meant there would be less things to do and people to worry about. Yes, Bondi was one of the busiest beaches, but as soon as March hit, most of the tourists were gone, and it was nothing but pretentious locals walking the dogs along the shore, or running along the beach line at 6:30am before the typical 9-5 office job. It’s not like you were judging all 9-5 goers, just specifically the joggers, because you couldn't remember the last time you had a decent interaction with one of them.

The back of your hand came to your forehead, swiping the precipitated skin as you took what felt like a seat in a long time. A sigh of relief came from your lips, exasperated from the variety of missing children, adults illegally bringing and littering alcohol bottles on public property, oh boy, the people who did not swim between the flags. It was a long day, meaning that you were looking forward to just slumping down on the couch and watching another episode of whatever HBO series you were watching with a heavy pour of red wine.

“What a fucking day,” Jisung sighed, scaring the complete shit out of you.

“Jesus Jisung,” you cried, almost falling out of your seat. Your reaction made him chuckle, throwing his hands in the air like a weapon had been pointed directly at him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Jisung was one of your oldest friends at the beach. He is one of the only people that have worked at the beach for as long as you have. Always keen, eager, motivated. Helping others was the joy he got from life. Jisung possessed many qualities that you wish you possessed. Patience, warm heartedness. It was easy to fall for Jisung, and you have a couple of times. It was just too bad that your job got in the way and the minute detail of Jisung having a girlfriend most of the time. You thought that maybe this was it for you. Time to give up.

“It’s okay Sungie,” you giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful manner, “today was crazy, wasn’t it?”

“That’s an understatement,” he scoffed, turning away and opening the communal fridge, grabbing out a sandwich. He turned back around, sitting next to you. Your gaze became one of disappointment.

“Don’t tell me that’s your lunch?”

He shrugged in response, “It’s okay. Like you said, today was busy right?”

A hint of anger simmered in your heart. It was admirable yet frustrating that this was kind of the person he was. So selfless that he never put himself first. Taking care of himself last. This was something that he was adamant about. Something he always did from the day you met him.

“Still,” you playfully smacked him again, “you have to take care of yourself first before anyone else.”

He took another bite of his food, resting the calloused palm that was his right hand on your right knee. He gave you a look. One that mixed gratitude, but there was something else, something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His lips almost trembled, like he was hesitant, nervous to say something.

“Y/n, you don’t have to worry about me,” he whispered, like for some reason he was worried that someone would hear, like a big secret, “I know you do and I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

Jisung’s body language was the catalyst for the tension in the room suddenly changing. He leaned closer, the hair on your skin rising with each movement. His gaze was to the floor, but yours was stuck on him. Was this finally the moment that you had been secretly hoping for? The gentle kiss of the perfect man that has been by your side the whole time? Your heart was practically beating out of your chest, really not sure what you were supposed to be anticipating. Jisung was a man that held his cards close to his chest.

“Y/n, I-”

You blinked a couple times, making sure that you were not dreaming and that it truly was a real moment.

“Yeah?” your stare practically glued to him, his features, any indication that he was giving to help you understand any cognitions he was having. But he was like an actor: able to hide and convey his emotions when appropriate. There was not one flaw to this man, and it was slowly killing you on the inside how long this was taking, even this event was anything.

“I-”

“Summer is fucking over let’s go!”

For fucks sake. You almost fell out of your chair once more, having the second fright of your life when you heard the loudmouth that was Changbin walk into the tearoom with just way too much energy for someone who was at the end of their shift. He froze in his step, already seeing too much between you and Jisung.

“You guys okay?”

“What? Oh yeah,” you huffed, hitting the air with your palm, “just tired from a long day, right Jisung?”

Your eyes widened at him, sincerely hoping he would not blow your cover of whatever it was that just happened.

“Yeah, super tired, only eating my lunch now.”

The smile on your face faded gently as you got up, placing your coffee cup in the sink. “Fuck,” you whispered, dropping your phone on the floor. Jisung, of course being the gentleman he was, noticed and dropped the floor with you in an attempt to pick it up for you. What you didn’t expect to see was where his eyes landed. It was only for a split second, but it was enough to make the heat in your cheeks rise. You were right, this particular lifeguard shirt was that little too big for you, however, what you didn't expect was Jisung, the man that could be by defined chivalry and dismantled the patriarchy taking advantage of said gap, with his eyes. They were wide too, like it was a kid finding their favorite flavored lollipop in a candy store. It really was enough for you to squeeze the fabric together as the two of your rose. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, if anything it was the opposite. It was more just to save face as Changbin was still lingering around with his very unwanted presence that the current moment. He still, between the ogling, managed to pick up your phone.

“Here,” he mumbled, now unable to look at you completely.

“Thanks,” you smiled, a silence filling the room as the two of you stared, unsure whether to mention the tension in the air coming to an all time peak. Did he know that he had been caught? Were you perceiving this completely wrong? It was one thing to accuse the guy of staring at your tits, it was another to embarrass him in front of his other colleague and superior when it may not have even been true. An objective perspective, however, could see that there was so much more, the layers of chemistry was an overwhelming revelation.

“What the fuck is up with you guys?”

Heads snapped simultaneously, a look of disdain causing your cheeks to turn upwards and the lack of manners Changbin, with his legs spread wide, chewing and talking, yelling, interfering with his mouth open. Crunchy flakes crusting on the sound of his mouth.

“Jesus christ, Changbin,” your mouth was upturned in the most disgust, “ever heard of talking after swallowing your food?”

“Yeah dude” Jisung scoffed, “I love you and all, but you really have to learn how to act like you're not a neanderthal sometimes.”

The adult child scoffed, a large chunk of corn flake coming out.

“You guys stop deflecting, and just fuck.”

An audible gasp was heard from the bellows of your throat.

“Changbin,” Jisung growled, chest beginning to puff, “what the fuck-”

“It’s fine,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his chest to deflate him a little, “Changbin, that is so inappropriate. I understand this is a friendly environment and we are friends, but I will not be disrespected in the workplace like this. Don’t make this hostile, otherwise I will report you, do you understand?”

The young man nodded, small, suddenly closing his legs and off from the two of you, eating the rest of his food in peace. Wanting to evade the awkwardness, you nudged Jisung, signaling him to leave with you. He was flabbergasted, not used to seeing you talk like this. Maybe it was an overreaction from you. Maybe because part of you wished it was true. It was still unprofessional to say, especially in front of others.

Walking into the locker/shower room was fine, needing to grab yourself. So did Jisung too. Another silence fell over as the two of you packed your things for the day.

“Do you think I was too harsh?” you questioned, closing your locker door behind you.

“Not at all,” Jisung reassured you, following your actions with the locker door, “it’s super inappropriate to talk like that at work?”

“Right? And where would he even get that from?”

A forced laugh came from your lips. Definitely not from the way you were exchanging lingering looks for an abnormally long time. Not him staring at the gap in your shirt. There was definitely no reason for Changbin to come to such a conclusion.

“Yeah,” Jisung scoffed, way too loud to be convincing, “that’s crazy talk.”

“Definitely. Anyways, I’m going to have a shower and then go. Did you need anything from me?”

“Uh,” scratching the back of his head, he became stuck in thought, “not that I can think of.”

“Okay,” you smiled, heading into the stall, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He nodded, about to turn and leave, but it was when you forgot to completely close the stall, and he detected out of the peripheral vision of his right eye that your hands were above your head, initiating the process of discarding your clothes. Was this a test for him? He wasn’t sure. But he was willing to take the bait. Creeping to the side of the stall, Jisung had a perfect view of you, your bikini top resting atop your chest. He had never been so jealous of a piece of clothing in his life. He had to stop his breathing when it was then discarded next, the image of your breasts, almost like relieving themselves from a hard day of work, they escaped the suffocating clothing, well in his mind they were suffocating. He really had never been so attracted to someone in his life. Jisung could feel the tent in his pants approaching as soon as the water was turned on and you were standing under it. A simple hum escaped your lips as you allowed the cascading stream of steamy water to enclose your body, tiny droplets pitter pattering across your chest, the intensity of the water making your nipples hard; Jisung was in heaven.

The only part of you that he was focused on was your chest. Jisung did not even take a second to notice your glistening arms, legs or waist. He was so fixated that he truly forgot where he was. It baffled him that you failed to notice his presence there, hard, longing for you in an amount he never had before.

The water felt nice. It was able to help you relax from the intense situation you had found yourself in. Almost a little too much. Your mind couldn’t help but wander, traveling to the multitudes of scenarios that popped up from the various half and hour of being that close to Jisung. It was easy to take those times further, the storytelling part of your brain was exquisite. It’s what helped come to the visually pleasing image as you closed your eyes, hands roaming across your hips, stomach, waist, chest. Exactly where he was looking. You knew better than to do what you were about to do at this very moment; but you couldn't help it. Forgetting where you were was way too easy as your fingers attached themselves to the sensitive nubs, gently pinching and squeezing in such a comfortable way. A gentle groan came from your lips as one hand flicked, the other massaged the corresponding breast, now a multitude of soft whimpers and moans spilling from your throat, quiet in a poor attempt of making sure no one heard. But you didn't know any better. This was almost an everyday ritual, whether at home or here, it did not matter. When you have privacy (or so you thought) it was a moment alone when you were at peace with yourself. Your mind, however, is always racing, consuming thoughts of him. Jisung was the perfect man in your eyes. So care free and fun, while simultaneously respectful. It was almost impossible that such a man existed.

Or so you thought, because when the moment he saw you reach for what he considered to be those beautifully shaped nipples, his jaw was on the floor, slack in complete disbelief at the idea of you just touching yourself like that, in public, door open, anyone able to walk in at any moment. Maybe that’s the hottest thing he found about this. That you were so confident yet concurrently careless. Fuck, were you doing this on purpose?

It didn’t matter, because even when your fingers disappeared from your chest down to your core, the damp tingling in between your legs, he paid no mind, truly fascinated at how they got harder with each passing second. Jisung was careless about his own hardening body parts, truly in a trance of how beautiful he perceived your actions to be. He didn’t even think about it in a way that was nasty, hot, sexy, even though it was. He was in a truly mesmerized state, one that he could stay in forever. Even when you were leaning against the wall of the stall, hips caressing your fingers, getting closer and closer to the edge. It wasn’t until he heard footsteps vaguely close to the locker room that he shit himself, a quick step into the empty stall next to him until it was gone. It was only then he realized the ramifications of his actions. An immense level of guilt washed over his body at the epiphany. What made it worse was that he was still completely erect, cock far from cooling off even though the hurts that swiped across his mind were telling him how disgusting he was. He felt betrayed by his brain, like he was a massive hypocrite. If he was being honest, any chance he got he took the chance to stare at your chest. A split second when you’re talking to him. When you can see him, when you think he can’t. Jisung was a dirty boy with a pervasive mind. He even remembered the first time he did it.

You were standing there, back to Jisung, innocently taking your top off and turning around to him, bikini only as you were having a serious conversation about supplies or funding or some fucking irrelevant shit about the beach; his actual fucking job.

Like yourself, he prided himself on being respectful, a gentle gentleman. Chivalrous, everything you described him to be, he was; on the outside; but Jisung truly, was a dirty boy with a pervasive mind.

Panic began to flood his limbs as he tiptoed as fast as he could, grabbing his stuff and heading for the door. He was whipped lashed, however, by Felix, the younger amateur lifeguard that he very much forgot he promised to give a ride home. He was way too distracted by a pair of boobs, but he was also very much in denial about it.

“Jisung?”

He said nothing, instead turning to the boy who had a confused look on his face.

“I’ve been waiting for half an hour for you. Didn’t you finish at 6?”

Fuck, 30 mins he spent staring at your fucking chest. To jisung however it still wasn’t enough.

“What? Oh, yeah I had to help Y/n with putting some equipment away, sorry dude I should have texted you.”

“Oh that’s cool,” Fliex shrugged, really unsure how to interpret Jisung’s face. It truly was like he had just seen a ghost.

What it really was, however, was the lingering guilt, disgust, repulsion he felt for himself in the moment. Even the drive home was quiet, unable to even comprehend the music playing. Jisung was really just going through the motions as he dropped Felix off, parked his car, walked into his apartment and threw his shit on the ground, falling in the shape of a snow angel on his bed.

He pondered as he stared at the ceiling, robot-like actions coming to a halt, the familiar feelings of disgust and guilt coming back. The way he opened your instagram late at night and jerked off to almost all of your pictures. You were his best friend, he really shouldn’t think of you like that.

You, on the other hand, were no better. The similar, perverted thoughts consumed your mind as well. You just fucking masturbated at your place of work, to your coworker, in a public space that anyone could have seen. Your extremely sexy and attractive coworker, but that didn’t make it better.

A shower at home, again, was enough for the moment to rid yourself, quite literally wash yourself off your sin. Forget the mind boggling orgasm that was provoked by the thought of Jisung being close to you. It was back to grandma mode for you, glasses on, side lamp on and reading a book to help you fall asleep. Your mind was back at peace, partly wanting to forget today. It was always a lingering thought in your mind.

Your lids were shutting, on the verge of falling into a deep sleep, that was, until your phone buzzed, almost falling off your side table as you opened one eye, groaning in annoyance that you had to check it. Huh? J-han00 liked your post? You didn’t post a pic. Your curiosity got the better of you, clicking on the notification. But as soon as you did, opening instagram, it was gone. What an idiot you thought. Stalking you. The smile on your face, on the contrary, told another story. It didn’t matter, because it was time to sleep, and you did like a baby.

It was when you got to work, the calmness and lack of regret switched into full blown anxiousness and real regret, because your heart sank to your ass when you saw him. But you couldn't forget that you were a leader. You were the managing lifeguard of the fucking Bondi beach. You knew better than to let this little crush overtake your very serious work. A born leader does not walk away when the going gets tough.

Today, thank god, was an admin day for you. No active duty. This meant you got to sit at your desk, closed off from the others. A sigh of relief came from your lips from the fact that any necessary interactions with Jisung had not occurred. Your bag was on the floor, you sitting in your chair as you opened your laptop, connecting it with your desktop. It was somewhat annoying how long it took this ancient system to reboot. If anything you could fall asleep at the turtle pace. What did keep you awake, however, was the triple knock that came from the opposite of your door.

“Come in.”

Failing to turn around was a mistake, the familiar voice of your friend on the receiving end of your cold gesture.

“Hey Y/N,” Jisung mumbled, resulting in you turning around to face him. Fuck. He actually did his hair today. The gel pricked strands pushed up, exposing the bare skin that covered his forehead. Clothes looked together, a tank with the sleeves cut off. His shoulders had not been exposed like that for a while. Suddenly you were feeling hot, hastily grabbing the water in your bag, sculling generously before actually acknowledging his presence with words.

“Jisung? Hey, how are you this morning?”

The sudden memory of your, well, activities last night flooded into your mind like an emergency tsunami; currently consuming all of your thoughts. You were unable to look at him straight. Was it him or was it you? Did he actually put in an effort, or did the lenses of your vision and how you perceive Jisung suddenly change?

“I’m good. Uhm,” his voice was quiet, swaying his foot from side to side as he looked at the ground in front of him and not at you, “I just wanted to clear up something with you.”

Oh shit. This could literally be anything. But he did not look like his usual self. Jisung was far from the nervous type.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh uhm, just the like on your profile by accident. It wasn’t me. I was with some mates and I-”

“Oh,” you replied, tone oblivious, “you liked my photo? I didn’t see.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened, face turning red at his unnecessary admission, “yeah, I, nevermind.”

“Is that all today?”

Your smile was kind, wanting to make him feel comfortable. The tension between the two of you since yesterday was tense, wound up if you will. It still, however, did not need to get in between your work.

“I wish, “ he chuckled, posture now upright and returning back to the man you know, “there’s a couple of drunk people on the beach. We want to kick them off but they won't leave unless they talk to a supervisor.”

An excessive eye roll took over your vision. Drunk people on the beach were the worst. Just always taking it too far and a complete hassle to get rid off. He felt bad coming to you also, knowing that this was your least favorite thing to deal with.

“ For fucks sake,” you scoffed, getting up from your seat, “Australian’s are just bunch of fucking alcoholics.”

Without thought, you grabbed the yellow shirt out of your bag, practically ripping off your current attire, completely. You were too consumed by rage to realize that you were now bra and bikeshorts only. Jisung quickly turned the other way, even though he really did not want to.

“Right,” he mumbled, not wanting to interrupt your vigorous rant, “yeah, crazy stuff.”

“Like it’s midday and they’re already smashed? Go to your fucking 9-5.”

The current oblivion was a disaster for you, because once again, you failed to realize that Jisung was still in the room with you, and now creeping those perverted eyes back to your body. A frustrated hand ran through your own hair, pacing back and forth as words continued to be spewed a consistent string of curse words. He knew it really shouldn’t have turned him on, but it did. Mainly because half your tits were out and you were cursing back and forth, easy to fuel his desires of what you would sound like under him, on top of him. It didn’t matter, it was not what was important right now.

It felt like years of waiting for you to dress yourself, grab a walkie talkie and head out to the beach to confront these losers. Ah of course, there they were. Two quite large, muscular men laughing their heads off, sitting right next to the water: idiots. It was easily audible how drunk they were by the mass slurring of words when trying to converse.It wasn’t a difficult task to kick intoxicated people off of the beach, but you were reducing someone from being unable to swim any day of the week. Jisung followed you in pursuit, not wanting to take over his supervisor. You approached slowly, unsure how they were going to react to the news of being kicked off.

“Good afternoon gentleman, how are we doing today?”

The two said nothing, instead bursting with laughter at the sight of you.

“What seems to be the entertainment here guys?”

They smiled again, looking at each other before the one closest to the shore line spoke.

“You’re the supervisor are ya?”

“Yes I am.”

The two laughed, again. Great. Two misogynistic, drunk pricks. Today was supposed to be the first day of relaxation, not even on active duty. But of course there had to be people that always made your job that more difficult. Jisung went to step forward, but you placed your hand on his chest, motioning that you’ve got this in the bag.

“Is there an issue with that?”

“We w-want to speak t-to a r-real s-”

“Well I’m all there is. My colleague has asked you nicely to please leave the beach as you are currently committing a crime or we will call the police and have you forcibly removed.”

It was the first time they had paid attention to you, the look of humor on their faces quickly dissipating, turning into anger. Their eyebrows were furrowed as they attempted to stand, swaying quite a bit before stepping closer, a poor strive at intimidation as they puffed their chests in an overbearing compensation of masculinity. Yes, they were much taller, and bigger, but they were certainly no match for you.

“You heard her,” Jisung grumbled, fitting in between the small gap between you and this hideous man, “leave or we will kick you off.”

“Wow you think you’re a tough guy huh,” he chuckled, now pressing his chest up against your fellow colleague. The last you wanted is for him to get into a fist fight with two very intoxicated individuals. You nudged him to the side once again, wanting to relieve some of the tension that was unfolding at this moment. You couldn’t help but let the small part of your mind admire the way he stood up for you. Like he would take a bullet for you in a heartbeat. Jisung really was the most urbane human you had the pleasure of meeting, so you would die if anything happened to him because of you.

“Let’s not be brash so we can all come to a single understanding.”

“Fuck that,” he scoffed, “we aren’t d-doing anything ill-iilegal.”

“Listen here buddy,” you growled, patience beginning to wear thin, “you are breaking the law by bringing a substance prohibited on the beach, as well as public intoxication, though I’m sure you’re not too capable of understanding a word I just said, did you?”

They said nothing, instead the quiet one pushing you into the water, head hitting the crushed up shells digging into the back of your head. The shore line washed over your face, eyes crippling with what felt like fire as the salt water took over your eyesight. Mumbled voices could be heard from the water. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes at the embarrassment and humiliation you felt at this current moment. The only thing you could concentrate on was the limbs, hands, fingers reaching out to lift you up, opening your eyes, you took the invitation, standing up next to them. Pulling out the walkie talkie, you pressed the button, speaking into it,

“Did you get that over?”

“Yup,” Hyunjin replied to the speaker, “the police have just arrived and are walking over to the two of you. Can you see them, over?”

“We can, thanks Hyunjin, over.” Luckily there were always people watching from the tower.

Jisung’s first concern was you, the police already over and standing in front of the two humans that you could barely call men. Jisung, seeing as you were a little bit out of it, eyes red from the acidity of the water, explained what happened. A police report would need to be filled out, but that was something that could be done later. Now wanting to interact or provoke them again, you fled the scene quickly, running back to your office and slamming the door behind you. Do not disturb the sign on the door. That sign was only used for when you were on conference calls or competing for confidential information about beach goers or staff. Today, however, was a cop out excuse to use it.

A couple of tears choked you as you checked the back of your head in the mirror, making sure there were no lumps and cuts from the rough beach surface. It was one thing to be disrespected, it was another to be looked down on for who you are. It was always disheartening, and you don’t know if being a woman in a male dominated industry would ever get easier.

A knock interrupted your feel sorry for yourself session, but you ignored it, not wanting to face any of your staff that all saw you fall flat on your ass. Your staff would never make fun of you for such a thing, but it did bruise your ego a little bit. The knock came again, followed by you continuing to ignore. It wasn’t until the knock was persistent, a small voice coming from the other side.

You were thankful, however, that out of all the people that could be at your office door, it was Jisung. He stormed in, closing the door behind him.

“Jisung I’m really busy I-”

“Shush,” he hissed, turning your chair in front of him, grabbing your arm, and sitting you down. He dropped to his knees, spreading your legs apart so he could scooch in between. A small torch appeared in the palm of his hands, the switch flicked and swiftly brought to your eyesight. Of course. A concussion test. Maybe it was just an excuse to be close to you. It didn’t matter, because Jisung’s closeness was something that you always craved, in any form.

“Jisung I don’t have concussion,” you sighed, “I’m not in the mood for fun antics.”

“I know but it sounded pretty hard when you fell. Look to the left, I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

It was unfair to be harsh to Jisung, especially when he was being caring and kind. He really didn’t need to do any of this.

“I’m fine, just a little embarrassed,” you mumbled, causing Jisung to grab your chin with his thumb and index finger.

“You don’t have anything to be embarrassed about.”

His face was close, eyes boring into you while he attempted to console you. The feeling of the room was the same as the one yesterday, when your phone fell to the floor. It had to be an invitation. It had to be a sign.

“I don’t?”

Your voice was soft, fear that it would crack and ruin what was becoming an intimate moment.

“Never. Those guys are the ones that should be embarrassed. You’re a great lifeguard. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

It was this moment, the brief seconds of silence in between Jisun’s last words, and the way he was looking at you, that you lunged forwards, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. The kiss was short, because you pulled away, coming to the realization that this was crazy. Your jaw dropped, arms withdrawing from and and the left hand covering your mouth.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I-”

Jisung took the hand from your mouth that was covering your mumble. His smile was big, giddy almost, as he took you in again, this time his hands cupping each side of your face as he returned the first unrequited kiss, much more vigor applied to your lips. Eyes fluttering shut, Jisung glided his lips together with yours, things heating up at a rapid rate as his tongue begged for entrance. You complied, a soft groan releasing from your throat at how good his tongue felt. The sudden sensation of touch was imminent to you. His hands on your face, the texture of them felt so strong, and what you could equate to this longing of closeness that you always desired towards him. Your arms came to his chest, scrunching the material and you brought his body closer, any part of him that you wanted you could get.

“Wait,” he mumbled, pulling away in a sudden movement of desperation, “I can’t do this.”

Your heart sank, face heated at the new level of humiliation you didn’t know was even possible. Was he really about to shatter your heart into a million pieces? Even if he did, you knew that you wouldn’t be that sad, purely because he would do it in a way that was so polite and gentle. Unlike you.

“Can’t do what?”

The guilt was eating him up alive. He knew he had to confess to his sinful desires before doing anything. It felt unfair any other way. He took a step back, standing up with his hands behind his back.

“I have to be honest with you.”

“Okay?”

“I, yesterday, after the locker room, when I ‘went home,’ I didn’t go home.”

Your wrinkles in your forehead became apparent at the confusion in what he was about to say.

“Okay?”

“Fuck, I noticed that you left the shower door open and well, fuck how do I even say this?”

“Just spit it out,” you mumbled. The anticipation was killing you inside.

“I was watching you.”

At first, a swipe of anger coursing through your veins. Why the fuck would Jisung, the well known individual for gentleman like behaviours would watch you shower. You stood up,chest on your hand as you subtly walked closer to him. His eyes went straight to the digits that lay along there. He couldn’t believe he was still doing this. Confessing to you his dirty secret while also still partaking in it at the same time.

“You were watching me shower?”

Fuck he couldn’t even look you in the eye now. Full shame taking over his body, every fiber of him. This was the most humiliating moment of his life. You weren’t far behind however, because when your mind traveled back to last night’s shower, you weren’t exactly using it for showering purposes either. Oh my god. You had to find out what it was he actually saw.

“Yes. I watched you shower. I saw you, taking your shirt off, bikini, panties, all of it. The way the shower water trickled down your body, over those beautiful tits. I saw everything.”

The vulgarity of his words took you by surprise. It was never the way you had heard your friend speak. Part of you is surprised that he would take it that far; but part of you is not. There were multiple times that you had caught him staring at your chest. You were still speechless however, unsure if you should still ask, did he see everything? You could tell Jisung was getting nervous too, seeing as you had no reaction or slight verbal communication. Honestly, he was dying on the inside, and if you didn’t speak now, he might explode.

“Are you mad?”

His voice came out small, but honestly, you didn’t know if you were or not. Your gaze left his eyes for a moment, consumingly drifting down to his shorts. Surely he wasn’t hard from this conversation? Oh my god he was fucking hard. The tent in his pants was impossible to miss. You took a step closer, Jisung biting down on his bottom lips, eyes not moving a millimeter as he watched you come closer and closer.

“Y/n, please,” he whined, desperate to know your inner thoughts, “are you mad? I’m really sorry, if you want to fire me-”

“Fire you?”

He hated that he found your tone of voice so seductive right now. It just made his eyes want to flutter shut, listen to your voice like an ASMR video that he found deeply pleasurable. He knew that you noticed his cock tenting in his pants, but he didn’t care. It was already out in the open that he was perv, hiding it would just be a waste of energy. The more you looked at him, the quicker the anger or any negative emotion of that matter faded. It made you curious. Almost like testing the waters. Using some force, you took a wrist from behind his back, opening up the closed fist and hovering it over your pussy. His jaw was agape, but you could tell that’s not where he wanted to touch you most.

“I don’t want to fire you, and no I’m not mad, if anything, I’m kind of flattered.”

Once you placed his own hand over your shirt, it was game over. Jisung’s lips smashed against yours, tongue begging for access as soon as the two of you collided. Hand that was free digging into your hips on one side, hands already placed staying where it was as he walked you back, the curve of your ass soft hitting the front of your desk. Jisung’s hard on was rubbing against the side of your leg. Sitting atop of the desk and spreading your legs, you invited him to come in closer, now able to feel it against your rutting crotch. The ache was already far from dull, but it didn't matter. You wanted this to last as long as possible. The do not disturb sign was up, and the walls were mostly soundproof, so it really could be dragged out as long as you wanted, no softness needed.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, breaking away to breathe for a split moment, “your lips are so soft.”

He continued to break away, spreading a multitude of kisses across your cheek, down your jawline, to your ear lobe. The Jisung you knew before was already gone, and you could see from the darkness in his eyes that this was who he really was.

“Jisung,” you gasped in between, his teeth gently nibbling on the peachy skiing texture, “what happened? I thought you were such a gentleman?”

“That’s just a facade,” he whispers, licking a thick stripe of the side of your neck, “I’m anything but a gentleman, and now I'm going to show you me, the real me.”

His teeth dove into the easily accessible skin that met your neck and collarbone. A deep groan, one of shock , bellowed your throat, Jisung sucking in the most sensitive skin you had. He kept his hand firmly on your left tit, kneading and massaging it as much as he could without losing control of himself. If he had a dollar for everytime he thought about wanting to do this, he would never have to work again. It was something that constantly consumed his cognitions. Even his subconscious if he knew what was in there. Jisung was a filthy animal that had nothing but brain rot for you and your tits. He wasn't endeavoring it, like you had planned to yourself, but the impatience was growing. You swatted his hand away, lifting your arms and giving him the single to take it off. The noise was loud when it hit the concrete floor, still wet from the tow douchebags. But Jisung didn’t care. All he could focus on was that fact that this was the first time you were voluntarily exposing yourself to him. The guilt he once had was gone, and the fact that he was in a way being rewarded is what baffled his mind. His face let your shoulder, giving you a look.

“Wait, can you, do you have, it’s probably too much to ask.”

Your chest was heaving up and down, very fast, symbolic of the past couple of minutes before you could answer.

“Is this something you think about when you think of me?”

“Honestly, yeah. It’s your bikini top.”

“Oh,” you smirked, reaching underneath your desk and grabbing the desired item out of your bag, “you mean this?”

Jisung’s eyes lie up like a christmas tree as you gently unclasped your bra, watching the way it elegantly fell across your waist and to the floor. Jisung was much more fixated on covering yourself back up with the flimsy piece of fabric rather than your actual naked upper body itself. Once the material covered the front, you turned around, pointing to the strings from behind.

“Could you help me tie them up?”

Your voice was low, seductive, putting the man beside you in a trance, hands sliding up the sides of your body until they reached your upper back. His fingers were delicate, the feeling of his calloused palms removed as he tied the strings to each other, perfect bows in length and strength. Once he spun you back around, he pressed another sensual kiss to your lips, this time completely intending to completely devour you and your lips. It was working, because the longer his lips were lingeried, the stronger the throb between at your core. Jisung was already attractive enough as it was, but it hit you again like a ton of bricks. The way his lips, hands, body, his whole being worshiping the ground you walked on. The sweet mixture of his care and attention mixed with the saltiness of his perverted desires was making your mind spin, and he really hadn’t even done anything yet.

He pulled away, another smoke coating his lips as he looked at you with heavy lust.

“I was going to make you get on your knees, but you can sit on your chair if you like, wouldn't want those pretty knees to get bruised do we?”

“Use me however you want Jisung.”

You wanted to comply, partly because Jisung’s lust driven haze was controlling your mind, but also because it was nice to have someone take control for once. The last thing you wanted to do after a day of work was take care of more people. It was honestly a fantasy of being marched around, told what to do, and Jisung was about to fulfill this perfectly.

It was his turn to undress himself, taking no time to undo the drawstring on his yellow shorts, swiftly removing boxers in one motion as he stood closer. The way his cock sprung free, like it was beginning to release almost made you drool. You opened your mouth automatically, assuming that you were going to have the delight of tasting him, but he had other plans. Jisung gave himself a few strokes of relief before lining himself up with your chest; ah, now you understand. Lifting your hands from your side, you pushed your tits together, the contact of his tip with your chest making you gasp. His cock slid very easily in the space created by your hands, Jisung’s head rolling back automatically once he moved back and forth. This would not have been something you thought about doing, but you’re glad that Jisung has these dirty ideas of his own, because you were moving every second. Taking one hand away from your chest you placed it at the base of his cock, making sure that all of his cock was receiving the love that was the sensation of your body, your touch.

“Oh my god,” Jisung growled, voice deep in thought, “I can’t believe how good this feels.”

“I’m glad,” you giggled, enjoying with much innocence this was affecting Jisung, “I bet you’ve thought about this many times.”

Your whole body was moving with each thrust, Jisung’s movements increasing with stamina the more he lost himself in the pleasurable feeling.

“Wait,” you questioned, making him come to a halt. You pumped his cock, not wanting him to lose any sensation as you used your other hand to pull down your top, now completely exposing yourself to him. His head snapped and his eyes looked like they were almost about to cry at the sight. His hands went for the automatic grab, palms grazing the hardness of your nipples as he pushed them together himself, cock running back and forth the cleavage.

“Hmm, your hands,” you moaned, chair beginning to creak at how hard he was pumping his cock, “feel really good.”

“Shit,” he hissed, “I’m gonna cum if I don’t stop.”

But there was a cognitive dissonance with his words and his actions, because he didn’t stop. The position was somewhat awkward,but you didn't care, completely infatuated and aroused by how fixated Jisung was on your tits, and using your body to get himself off.

“You okay baby,” Jisung groaned, “am I hurting you?”

“No baby,” you cooed, a soft moan and the flicking of your left nipple, “feels really good.”

“I want you to feel really good though baby,” he leaned down, pressing another sensuous kiss to your lips, “want to make sure you know you’re all mine.”

Mine, the word made your heart flutter.

“Well,” you hummed, keeping a hand on the base of his cock as you stood up and out of your chair, “you have your fantasies, I have my own.”

Jisung was taken aback by your statement. He thought he was the only one that was dirty minded, clouded by lustful and devil crazed things he wanted to do to you.

“You do?”

“Of course,” you huffed, letting go of him and pushing by the chest back into your seat. He couldn’t help himself, gently gratifying himself with his hands as he observed you taking off your shorts, now damp panties following, leaving you completely nude. Jisung took his bottom lip between his teeth, noticing how sticky the insides of your thighs were.

“When I was showering, last night, you know when you were watching me?”

You smirked, so easily resulting in him being embarrassed once again.

“Ha ha,” he mocked, still stroking himself. He was shameless at this point.

“I was thinking about you, you know.”

“You were?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, taking a straddle seat on his lap, “exactly like you are now.”

His length pressing against the outside of your folds a small moan leaked. This stickiness that was your arousal coating his shaft as you tenderly initiated the grind, pussy folds opening up and messing up his cock. The anticipation was killing you, as it was him, however, at the same time, it felt too good to stop, and you knew it wasn’t enough to make either of you cum in the moment.

“Yeah baby,” you whispered, a euphonious sound escaping your lips in between your words, “you’re not the only one that has a perverted mind.”

And when Jisung smiled at your words, you knew that he was your person. He was you in the male form. It was disgustingly sexy how much of him being a sexual pervert for you turned you on, and you should feel ashamed, guilty for it. But the equally morally corrupt part of you loved it, thrived on it. You were so fucking dirty, and so was he, and it was something that you really fucking loved about him.

“Fuck, you’re so mine,” he chuckled, a deep growl to his voice as his hands stayed on your tits in any way shape and form. He went back to kneading, then using his mouth to suck on them, hard, pinching, flicking with his fingers. He was obsessed, and now he was worried that he needed to be touching them all the time; he was selfish and couldn’t help it. The use of mine, again, made your hips jump, the tip of his cock nudging at your clit, which singalled the moment that the tease, prolonged fest was over.

“Can I sit on your cock?”

He didn’t even take the time to reply, taking his hands off your tits for a split second, a hand guiding you to the tip of his cock, the other wanting a simple taste of you, dipping his index and middle finger taking an intense swipe from your hole, through your folds, and up to his tongue. Your breath became heavy at the extremely attractive behavior jisung was displaying. It helped speed up the process, hand on his base and you leisurely slid down his length, allowing yourself time to adjust to his girth. A simultaneous sigh of relief escaped both of your chests as he filled you up all the way, bottoming you out, before you rose again, yourself completely in charge of the pace. The start was slow, giving you the perfect amount of time in between thrusts to feel him buried deep inside your pussy.

“God you’re so wet,” Jisung scoffed, the sounds of squelching and skin slapping filling the room, “so tight too.”

Your hands were now wrapped around his neck once again, his hands on your tits as he did not massage them, letting them spring free and very, very thoroughly enjoying the bounce they showed as you rode him.

“Hmmmm,” you whined, unable to form a coherent sentence, “so good.”

“You like my cock baby?”

“Yes.” The mumble was low enough, but Jisung wanted to hear you. Wanted to hear how well his cock was making your crumble. How well he was filling your lustful desires. He needed the validation of knowing that he was doing a good job. It’s something he looked for when he did his job patrolling the beach. Even though he was just as experienced as you were. He valued you and your opinion that much, so this was very important to you.

“You’re doing such a good job riding me cock like that baby,” he chuckled, hand snaking up your back and around your neck as he brought you close for another deep, longing kiss. God, he just couldn’t get enough of you, and the feeling was mutual.

“I fucking love you cock Jisung,” you grunted, pulling away from his swollen lips, beginning to find it difficult to keep a consistent rhythm. He moaned at the way you said his name, beads of sweat forming on his forehead the longer the two of you sat there, inside of each other. Your head was on the verge of rolling back, the slight assistance of Jisung spanking your tit and completing the full action of your neck practically snapping back. Eyes screwed shut, solely concentrating on the small moans and string of cuss words escaping his lips as you brought your pace to a very slow rate, hips now in more of a rolling motion rather than straight up and down.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he spat, juices covering your tits now, the sight ver visually pleasing to him, “I die when you say my name like that.”

“Jisung,” you whined, “Jisung, baby, I want you.”

“You want me to fuck you princess?”

“Yes,” you huffed, almost out of breath.

“Tell me baby,” he cooed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, “say it.”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, legs emerging into shaking as you became desperate for him, “please fuck me.”

“Hmm, okay, such a good girl for asking.”

Jisung’s hands reluctantly withdrew from your chest one last time, the pressure mounding on your hips as you forced you to a halt. Palms now moving to your hands, he stood up, legs wrapping around him without a thought to remain close to him. Another make out session has begun, and jisung had the smooth effort of walking you around, pinning you up against the wall. He kept you there, legs still wrapped around his torso as he began to move, however, an unforgiving pace was being set. It forces you to pull away, a face of shock yet desperation plastered across your facial features. This was impossible to last to, but maybe that was the point. Jisung was definitely sick of your antics at this point. Your chest eye level with his face as he leaned forward, moaning at the way your tits fell on his face with each thrust.

“I’m sorry,” he groaned, “I can’t handle it anymore.”

“Fuck I’m, I-” your voice cm out weak, slightly cracking at the last word, “I can’t hold it much longer.”

“That’s okay baby,” he puffed, practically out of breath at how hard he was working to please you, “just tell me when you’re cumming okay?”

You nodded, pussy beginning to unconsciously clench around his length. A high pitched moan escaped your lips as you felt the pit of your stomach reaching what you knew to be your peak. Jisung’s was becoming sloppy himself, not sure how much he can last, but the last place he wanted to finish, respectfully, was in you.

“Jisung please,” you cried, “I can't last any longer.”

“It’s okay baby,” he whispered, slowing his pace down to satisfy you, “cum for me.”

On cue, your body reacted in the exact way he wanted you to do, mouth wide open and eyes screwed shut as you came what felt like over and over. Jisung took you off the wall, soothingly hushing you and placing you on your desk, legs hanging on his shoulders as he allowed you to ride out your high. He, however, was on the verge too, and he was dying to ask you one thing.

“Y/n, baby, I need to bust,” he whines, making you giggle, “fuck.”

“You want to cum on my tits?”

He nodded vigorously, taking no time to pull out of you and pump himself with so much purpose. The loss of contact made you whimper, but you were easily distracted by the moans and groans that escaped his lips as the copious amount of white ropes were released, coating your, in his opinion, precious tits to a pulp. His waist shuddered, but nonetheless, Jisung was back to his gentleman self, carrying to your seat and getting the lucky tissue box on your desk, Jisung wiping the remnants of himself off your chest. You giggled at the motion, somewhat embarrassed at what had just occurred in the ‘professionalism’ of your work office. Jisung clothed himself first then grabbed your discarded items and helped you dress yourself. You had to stand, holding his hand as you stepped into your shorts and panties.

Once the both of you were fully clothed, you pressed one more kiss to his lips, unable to rid yourself of the grin the was woven into your face. He followed, finally happy that he was able to get the girls of his dreams. Holding your hand, the two of you lingered, all of a sudden unable to look at each other.

“There’s something else that I lied about by the way.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. That wasn’t my friend. It was me.”

#jisung #jisung smut #jisung imagine #jisung scenario #han jisung #han jisung smut #han jisung fic #jisung fic #han jisung scenario #han jisung imagine #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenario #jisung x reader #ch4nb4ng

643 notes · View notes

antiquarianfics · 10 months

Text

Taken pt. 3

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

A/N: If I were you guys, I would hate me. This is so. I'm sorry. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Genre: Angst / Rating: PG-13 Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, swearing, canon-typical violence. Note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

previous part | series masterlist | next part

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"Mrs. Barnes, do follow me, please," Morozov demands despite his polite formalities. "And I advise you keep the baby to your side. You never know where she may wander off to if you're not watching," he says ominously.

You clench your jaw as you scoop Becca into your arms. She clings to you, little arms surrounding your neck. The poor girl is terrified, and you know you have to pretend you're not, too. For her.

You follow after Morozov and pray your phone hasn't died yet.

Please, Buck. Find us.

—

Morozov leads you down several confusing hallways that all look the same. You look for indicators to help you find your bearings, but there’s little to nothing there. You pray your phone still has some juice and is connected to a cell tower somewhere; you’re not getting out on your own.

Becca holds onto you with a death grip, her face buried in the crook of your neck to hide her eyes from the scary soldiers escorting you. Despite being an Avenger, you kind of wish Bucky was here for you to do the same thing.

“So, Mrs. Barnes, you’re wondering why we’ve brought you here?” Morozov asks, but his tone is more declarative. He does not wait for a response.

“Well, we’ve been tracking the Asset since I took over the Siberian HYDRA division, and that’s when we discovered that there was a Mini Asset! It was quite the pleasant surprise! We are well aware that the Asset’s trigger words have been removed—a shame, really. They took so long to install. So the original plan was to figure out how to reset the Asset, but with the development of the baby? Well…” He trails off, refusing to finish the thought.

Instead of providing further explanation for your capture, Morozov abruptly stops in front of a door, unlocking it and holding it open like a hotel concierge.

“Right in here.”

One of the guards pushes you in and you stumble a little. Straightening up and readjusting Becca in your arms, you turn and shoot a glare at the guard.

You quickly take note of your surroundings and realize you’re in a cell. This is when one of the guards and Morozov step in, closing the door behind them.

The cell is small and bare except for some shackles anchored to the wall. The soldier wrestles Becca out of your arms despite the little girl’s wailing and kicking and your onset panic. He then unceremoniously drops her to the ground and grabs your wrists, shackling you to the wall.

You lunge at the soldier, painfully pulling on your restraints.

“Don’t you dare touch her, you piece of shit!” You scream.

Morozov chuckles darkly, sending you an amused look, and crouches down to Becca’s height.

“Hello, miss,” he says, holding a hand out to help her stand.

Becca looks at his hand and then at you, unsure of what to do. You shake your head and she scoots away from the doctor and closer to you. Morozov only laughs again.

“You’ll be more cooperative in time,” he says simply, holding his hands casually behind his back. He turns back to you.

“And, Mrs. Barnes, I recommend you refrain from attacking or cursing at my men. It would be unpleasant.

“Now, please, ladies, make yourselves comfortable.”

Morozov turns and leaves the room, letting the thick metal door slam shut behind him and his soldier. You hear the locks click shut and you crumple in your spot, leaning against the wall, and try to get comfortable despite your arms restrained behind you.

“Mommy?” Becca calls, looking at your face.

“Yeah, baby?” You try to pull a comforting look onto your face but you have a feeling it looks more like a grimace.

“What’s the mean guy want?”

“I’m not sure, honey.”

“What’s ‘the Asset’?”

You frown, unsure what to say to her. You and Bucky had never explained to your daughter her father’s complicated past. In fact, you had intended to put it off as long as possible. You chew your lip nervously before you speak, carefully mulling over your words.

“‘The Asset’ is your daddy. A long time ago, before Daddy and I met, he was trapped by some bad people, and they made him do some bad things.”

Becca’s eyes widen.

“Do they wanna hurt Daddy?”

“I really don’t know, baby.”

“They hurt you,” she points out, small hands grabbing your face.

You lean forward and kiss her forehead.

“I’m alright, Becca. Promise.”

Suddenly, the small sliding door built into the cell’s door opens and a tray of food slides in. It closes immediately.

“Becca, can you bring that tray over here? It’s dinner time.”

The hungry toddler happily runs to pull the food over. For the first time since you were abducted, you feel a semblance of peace while you watch your daughter eat, and you giggle when she has you open up for the airplane.

—

You estimate you’ve been gone about a week, and your stay at the Siberian HYDRA facility has been less than pleasant.

They have refrained from taking Becca away from you, but they have happily tortured you in front of her. Frankly, you’re not sure which is worse.

Today has been brutal. Almost as brutal as when they found the phone.

—

The soldier’s cutting of your body—your body his canvas, his knives his brushes—is what led to the revelation of your phone. You’d been stripped of your shirt, leaving you in the sports bra. Your mistake comes in the form of a taunt, an ill chosen statement.

“That all you got?”

It was not. The soldier jammed his fist hard into your gut and you crumpled. You leaned forward, retching, and your phone happened to slip out of your bra onto the cell floor.

You froze.

Morozov lost it. The phone meant they were on the Avengers’ radar, and that was less than ideal. He grabbed the phone and hit the power button.

“1%. Hmm. We may have unwelcome visitors soon,” he said as he walked towards the exit. “Please show Mrs. Barnes how we feel about unwelcome visitors.”

With that, he left, and you quickly found out that they do not feel good about unwelcome visitors.

—

Morozov is always present, but he never strikes himself. He lets those around him get their hands dirty and helpfully asks questions from the sidelines.

Today, however, has been different. After all, everyone has their limit.

“Tell. me. how. the. hell. they. erased. the. brainwashing,” Morozov demands.

You scoff in his face.

“Go to hell.”

“You bitch!” He slaps you across the face.

Your face is forced sharply to the side from the slap, but you laugh as you turn to face him.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?”

“Not only do you look like you’re pretending to have power, but your slap lacks power, too.”

Taunting him is probably not your best move, you’re aware, but it’s been a week and all they’ve done is torture you for information about Bucky. And you were trained to keep your mouth shut.

Morozov stands up straight, smoothing out his ill-fitting military jacket. He takes the second to compose himself before he turns to the guard at the door.

“Grab the kid,” he says, smirking at you.

Your eyes widen.

“Don’t you dare touch her! I’ll kill you! I swear to god I’ll kill you!” You pull on your restraints, scrambling to find footing even though you can’t stand from the way you’re restrained.

Becca has been hiding in the corner of the room, petrified, as she has every time they’ve come to question you. She pushes herself further back into the wall as the guard moves towards her, but with nowhere to go, he easily picks her up and carries her to Morozov.

“You know, my strength may lack power to you, but I’m sure a punch to the baby’s gut would hold all the power it needs,” he muses, closing his hand into a fist in front of his face, observing it.

You struggle to get to Becca, tears beginning to escape and run down your face.

“Now,” he says, side-eying you, “tell me. How did they remove the trigger words? Because when we turn your daughter here into the next Winter Soldier—raising and conditioning her to serve HYDRA—we need to make sure she can’t defect like her traitor father.”

Morozov’s admission towards his plans for Becca flips a switch inside you. You’ve heard of mothers doing incredible things—like lifting cars off of their children—due to the child being in danger. It causes hysterical strength; you were never sure you believed it. But watching Morozov threaten your child? It was life or death. It was unforgivable. It made you hysterical. So Morozov even threatening to do to her what HYDRA did to Bucky causes you to act.

You scream something unintelligible as you yank yourself free. The chains are still bound to your wrists, but the anchor in the wall crashes to the ground. The cement moving with it. Before you comprehend it, you’ve gotten to your feet, jumped enough to hop the shackles and bring your hands to the front of your body, and have the chains around Morozov’s neck.

You pull the chain taut against his throat, and he chokes. You glare at the soldier holding Becca who looks incredibly unsure what to do (Does he save his boss? Does he hold onto the kid?).

“Let. Her. Go.” You tighten the chain on Morozov’s neck with each syllable.

Morozov subtly nods, signaling to the man to let Becca down. He does and you forget Morozov, leaving him to gasp for breath as you run to your daughter.

Skidding to your knees, you check over Becca as you scoop her into your arms.

“It’s okay, bug. You’re okay.”

You comfortingly run your fingers through her hair while she shakes with fear in your arms.

“Hmm,” Morozov muses as he rubs a hand against his sore neck. “Perhaps we might come to a compromise, Mrs. Barnes.”

You shoot an incredulous look at him over your shoulder.

“The strength you just exhibited? Extraordinary! Perhaps you might consider joining HYDRA’s cause,” he holds up a hand to silence you when you open your mouth to protest. “Perhaps you might consider joining HYDRA’s cause,” he repeats, “in exchange for your daughter’s release.”

You pick Becca up, letting her bury her face into your neck while she cries, and stand, turning to face Morozov.

“If you safely return her to her father and the Avengers, I’ll do it,” you say confidently. You absolutely did not want to work for HYDRA, but you could figure out your own escape later. Becca’s safety is your priority and only current concern.

“That can be arranged.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

ko-fi

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

Tags: @just-henny @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22 @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky barnes angst #marvel angst #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky oneshot #marvel

326 notes · View notes

grumpyeagleandfriends · 4 months

Text

À Terre II | Poe Dameron x OC/Reader

A/N: Reader is a Resistance pilot that was captured during a solo reconnaissance mission. They escape by hijacking a ship. Gravely injured and hanging by a thread, they rejoin the Resistance by crash landing just outside of the base on D'Qar. A certain distraught squadron leader runs out to help.

Hurt/Comfort. Gratuitous, self-serving one shot TWO PART story. I have rewritten the first chapter in addition to adding on a second installment. This time it's in Poe's POV. I don’t like using “y/n” so I give the reader a generic, 1 syllable Star Wars name in the middle of this bad boy. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve been daydreaming about this for months years, so I finally decided to write it all out. There’s a little bit of a long set up, but I’m not sorry about it.

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions blood and torture. Shellshock/PTSD vibes. Cursing. Tons of graphic medical stuff. Injections (so needles).

Word count: 5,439

Masterlist

Blood was everywhere when he finally made it inside the cockpit...

Even after he got her free from the safety harness, when all he could do was keep her calm and alert until the med techs arrived, he noticed the way she looked at him, the way she pulled it together to focus every time she nearly fell asleep. Hol hadn’t been able to properly talk, but with every command he gave her, she nodded and tried her best to comply.

The metallic iron smell of it nearly knocked him back when he opened the canopy. It covered everything. Her shaking hands, her hair, her flight suit, he even found it coating the inside of her mouth after he coaxed her to let him take away the life support mask.

He desperately wanted to give her water to see if she could drink, but there wasn’t any to be found in the cockpit. He wanted to put her in one of his jackets to help stop her from shaking, but the patch of trees she crashed landed into was too far from his quarters on base. He wanted to scream at her for being so goddamn stubborn, but he couldn’t shake the way she desperately clutched onto his hand.

They hadn't been careful enough when extracting her. There wasn't enough time to wait for proper immobilization equipment to be brought out to the crash site. Between Hol's blood loss and the ship leaking dangerous fluids into the forest, they made the difficult call to just move.

Seeing that utmost trust in her eyes, alongside the fear and the pain, was what really scared him the most. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let her die there, not after she clawed her way back to them.

He had no way of knowing at that moment, but the jostling when they lifted her out caused a broken rib to puncture one of her lungs. Poe couldn’t keep from blaming himself for his own role in that.

The second they placed her onto the hover gurney, her condition began to rapidly deteriorate. One of the med techs caught sight of her blue fingertips and immediately diagnosed a collapsed lung. Poe only just managed to clamber out of the cockpit to see it all. He stood frozen on the wing of the ship while he watched them cut open her flight suit to reveal her bloated chest. The bright glow of a laser scalpel quickly appeared and they made an emergency incision between her ribs to let the trapped air escape.

Once they got her breathing again, she was loaded onto the back of the waiting med truck and they took off. Poe was left to follow behind on the back of a ship technician's speeder bike.

--------------------------------------

He sprinted into the medbay only a few moments after Hol was rushed in on the hover gurney. Bypassing the waiting area and going directly through the sliding double doors was unusually easy. In hindsight it should have struck him as odd that no one stopped him, but the overstretched med staff meant that no one paid him any mind when he planted himself against the back wall in triage.

As promised, Kalonia’s team was already primed and waiting to receive her. Poe had to crane his neck to be able to see, but he counted at least seven different med techs helping transfer her over to the exam bed.

They began working like a well calibrated machine, her dirty flight suit was sliced open and quickly stripped away. As soon as they were connected, the more sophisticated diagnostic scanners lit up and began displaying the worst of her injuries. Images of her chest cavity were produced on a monitor near the end of the exam bed, along with her vitals.

From where he stood, Poe was able to catch Hol’s foot beginning to subtly twitch. He wondered initially if he had just imagined the movement, but the surrounding med staff began to take notice as well.

“Eyes are beginning to flutter, she might be starting to come around.”

Dr. Kalonia took a step back as her staff continued their work. She pulled aside the young medic who had been down in the cockpit with Poe. He began rattling off the details of Hol’s condition when found and how exactly she was transported. After a couple of minutes he began gesturing over his shoulder in Poe’s direction, causing Kalonia to promptly look up. Her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of him standing back by the door.

Shit…

His back stiffened in preparation for an argument that never came.

“Dameron, get over here!”

She issued the instruction like an admiral as she pointed him over to the top of the exam bed.

He didn't think, he just immediately crossed over. The moment he was within reach, she grabbed hold of his arm and brought him to stand where she was.

“Do exactly what you did down at the crash site, alright? Talk to your pilot. Keep her calm.”

Hol’s head gently lolled to the side on the padded exam table, her face slack and eyes half-lidded. She went still once more just as he took his place. He cupped her face in his hands, noting how cool and clammy her skin felt against his palms.

Kalonia stood to his right, a penlight ready in her hand to test the reaction of her patient’s pupils.

“C’mon, Tarmin…” She called while carefully tugging open Hol’s eyelid.

Immediately, there was a weak moan, greatly muffled by the respirator mask. Hol tried to roll away from the touch, but Poe’s hands braced either side of her head.

“Hey, hey- it's okay. Easy, kid, easy.” He whispered, holding her in place just long enough for Kalonia to work.

“Settle down, Lieutenant.” The doctor spoke as she pulled away. “You crash landed on D’Qar. You’re in medical.”

Poe didn't let go once she finished. He continued cradling Hol's head, his short nails scratching at her scalp in some attempt at providing comfort.

Her body was fully exposed under the surgical lights, revealing the extent of the damage that he wasn't able to see back in the cockpit. The bruising along her abdomen and rib cage was mostly black, as if there were large ink blots staining her skin. There were blaster grazes on her right side, localized swelling where her right forearm was clearly fractured, wounds in her lower abdomen...

So much of it jumped out at once, he found it hard to focus on any one injury long enough. He began to wonder just what sort of state she was in before the crash.

Hol emitted another faint groan, one where he could distinctly hear a wheezing sound that came from deep in her chest. Her body jerked from the force of a cough. Red flecks of blood appeared inside the clear respirator mask.

Slowly, she began to blink against the lights. A worry line formed in the center of her forehead.

"No...n-no… "

It was hoarse and strained, but everyone standing around caught the audible plea. Hol's good hand suddenly lifted in an attempt to bat away those touching her.

Dr. Kalonia cursed.

"Restrain her! I'm trying to insert a chest catheter here!”

Padded white cuffs were produced and promptly attached around each of her limbs, securing her to the exam bed.

"Hol, look at me." Poe commanded. He cupped her jaw as he leaned directly over her, giving her no choice but to comply. He made himself the only thing she had to look at. His shadow worked to shield her eyes from the glaring overhead lights while also blocking her view of the med staff.

Her gaze was glassy and unfocused, but she was thankfully looking at him.

"You've got to relax." He urged, his hand smoothing her tangled hair back off her face as he spoke. "We’re trying to patch you up, alright? Let us help."

She blinked at the sound of his voice, and though the distress on her face didn't fade, she went still on the exam bed. Her eyes remained set in his direction.

"There you go, sunshine..." Poe quietly praised, using once again the affectionate name he knew she absolutely hated. "Keep those eyes on me, don't worry about anything else."

His attention never left her, but he was aware that Kalonia and another med tech were beginning to work at prepping the incision site to insert the chest tube. He wasn't convinced that Hol recognized who he was or even that she was somewhere safe, but he couldn't risk her getting freaked out by the procedure being performed on her chest.

There was still visible fear in her eyes, but she never looked away from him. Her struggling thankfully ceased as she began to lean into one of his palms bracing the side of her face.

"You're safe, you know that?" He found himself reminding her. The pads of his thumbs traced over the outer shells of her ears, trying again to ease the visible discomfort he saw etched in her face. "Promise you, babe. You're good, we've got you."

Hol winced before swallowing. His brow furrowed as he watched her lips suddenly part.

“Poe…"

Her voice was painfully raw, and normally the sound of her saying his name would have been reason for relief, but he only worried that she was wasting her energy trying to talk.

“Yeah, hey, Hol.” He greeted in a whisper, dipping just enough to brush his lips to her hairline. "It's me. I'm right here."

He frowned when she tried to say something more, something longer and impossible to parse.

"Shh-hey, no, that's enough. Don't want you to talk anymore." He gently scolded. "We’re going to do like before, okay? You relax while I run my mouth.”

Poe doubted she remembered their conversation down in the cockpit, but she thankfully fell silent. Her eyes remained on him as he kept quietly talking to her, blabbering on about how lucky she was to get out of briefings and inventory duty for the next few weeks, about how she was going to sit back on the medbay's best painkillers and watch the trashiest holovids he could find.

He knew deep down that she probably wasn't following him entirely, but he was trying to reassure himself at this point more than her. He was keenly aware that none of what he was saying was guaranteed, but he had to give himself something to hold on to, because imagining anything else simply was not an option for him.

She had to pull through this.

She had to be fine.

Minutes passed like that, Hol's unfocused gaze trained on Poe's face as he worked at keeping her distracted. Kalonia was able to successfully insert the temporary catheter into Hol's chest, which would assure the function of her uninjured lung until they could patch up the other.

Poe listened closely as a medtech outlined all of the crucial information, providing him with the rough plan of how her treatment would proceed. Once they finished stabilizing her most grave injuries, she would be taken back for surgery. There would be some additional testing after, which would take a couple of hours...

The explanation suddenly stopped short when an alarm began to sound from one of the machines. The level of the urgency in the room immediately started to bubble over.

"Heart rate is increasing!" Someone announced.

Poe visibly paled as he watched Hol's eyes roll backward. His hands still bracing her head, he desperately looked up at the med staff, searching for some kind of instruction.

"Dameron, out!"

Kalonia swooped in and firmly shouldered him out of the way.

Before he could object, a med droid approached and began to usher him towards the door.

"Doc, what's going on?" He demanded, sidestepping the mechanical arms reaching for his shirt. "What's wrong?"

His question went ignored. Hold was entirely obscured from his view. There were too many people now surrounding the exam bed.

"She's seizing! Start anticonvulsants and prepare for a transfusion!"

"Master Dameron, the team needs to prepare the patient for surgery. You must leave."

The med droid's pincers whirred as it closed in on Poe.

"Don't tell me what I have to do!" He snapped, the outline of his jaw more pronounced as he spoke through clenched teeth.

In a moment of sheer stupidity, he pushed back hard against the unforgivingly solid metal chest. He clearly forgot that these droids were built to easily lift the deadweight of critically ill patients of any species.

The mechanical arms tightly wrapped around him, securing his own arms to his sides. They closed, crushing him flush against the droid's metal body. The gesture was completed so quickly that he could feel the air being forced out of his own chest.

Poe feebly kicked, but it was useless. The droid easily hauled him back out through the double doors and towards the waiting area.

________________________

The word about who crash-landed into the trees traveled like wildfire across base. All of black squadron, Finn, BB-8, several of the x-wing techs and pilots from various outfits formed a large group just outside of the medbay. Each of them had duties elsewhere that they were purposefully ignoring, choosing out of loyalty to be present while one of their own hung in some grave state between life and death. They were the ones who threw back countless drinks in the mess hall together, who organized a massive fantasy Gravball league that nearly sent the entire Resistance into chaos, and who pooled their commissary credits to throw each other birthday parties.

They were all present to witness the painful moment Poe was forcibly escorted out of the sliding double doors leading to triage.

"Shit!-alright, alright! Let go!" His shouts ricocheted down the hallway as he finally managed to yank himself free. The force of the motion caused him to promptly fall to the floor.

The others watched as he quickly scrambled up from the ground, stumbling and hurrying to kick at the back of the retreating med droid.

He missed, which only served to enrage him further. The doors promptly closed behind the droid and Poe spun around— his mouth set in a tight line while he began to inexplicably search his surroundings. His chest rose and fell for several beats. His face twisted into a sneer before he abruptly lashed out at the nearest object, sending a trashcan flying with his boot. The steel barrel was thankfully empty, but the sharp clang sent a shockwave across the medbay.

The few people waiting in the sitting area immediately stood up to vacate the space.

Finn was the first to take a step forward to intervene, but he was halted by a large hand on his arm. He turned his head to see Snap, skin still humid as if he came straight from the refresher.

"Best to stand back and let it pass." The pilot urged with a sad shake of his head. "His scenes are never pretty."

Finn didn't want to agree, but as he stood and watched the scene unfolding before them he couldn't find any reason to argue. Snap and the others would know better. They did know.

Poe’s hands were pressed to the back of his head, his fingers laced together as he glared at the closed doors. He could have easily pushed his way back through, but he inexplicably remained where he stood. His eyes shot a deadly amount of spite toward whatever was happening on the other side of those doors— information that, for the time being, only he knew.

His arms fell heavily to his sides. Ignoring the uneasy looks following him, he turned and traipsed over to the first row of waiting chairs, silently throwing himself down onto one of the seats.His legs stretched out while he leaned back, his arms folded over his chest.

He continued to stare at the doors, a hard glint in his eyes for the faceless goliath wrecking untold damage on the other side.

The others slowly filtered over to join him in the waiting area. A supportive hand would occasionally grip his shoulder or linger on his knee, but no one said anything. Those unvoiced questions sat heavy above their heads.

BB-8 remained near Poe’s feet, unusually still and silent.

Hours grudgingly crawled by. The light outside faded away and began to just barely creep back over the horizon when someone finally came out to speak to them.

Poe was the only one to be escorted back behind the double doors. Dr. Kalonia stood there waiting for him, still dressed in some of her surgical garb. Thankfully, her mask was off, because her facial expression alone was able to answer his most crucial question.

She was alive.

Kalonia began to turn before she motioned for him to come along.

"Follow me, Dameron..."

________________________

They walked together down the main hallway of the medical wing, back to where Poe knew the overnight patient beds were located. He remained silent as Kalonia gave the run through of everything— what exactly happened when he was forced out of triage and what they were able to correct during surgery. Internal bleeding was what caused Hol to begin seizing. They performed a blood transfusion that stabilized her enough to undergo surgery, but they hadn’t been confident that she would make it through. The surgery itself took hours, but they were successfully able to localize and stop the bleeding in her abdomen and patch up her punctured lung. They installed a more substantial drainage tube in her chest to allow excess air and fluids to escape so her lung could continue to heal.

She would need to be kept asleep so her body could focus on repairing itself, but Kalonia was going to let Poe see her while they performed some additional tests.

They came to a stop just before the smallest room along the hallway. Due to space constraints on base, most of the rooms along this corridor housed multiple beds. This room was only for patients in a bad enough state to justify being kept isolated from others.

Kalonia stood aside to let him enter first.

They had Hol lying half-covered on an exam bed, her chest was mostly obscured by bandages. The first thing he noticed was that she was clean now, so much so that it made his head spin.

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, because of course they were going to scrub away the blood and grime before putting her on fresh bedding. But still, the contrast from when he found her sitting strapped in that downed ship was startling.

Several machines were attached to her body. She was hooked up to a respirator and receiving fluids intravenously, but Poe also caught sight of the aforementioned drainage tube extending from a patch of bandages in her side. It ran all the way over the edge of the bed into a receptacle on the floor. Her injured arm was wrapped in bacta strips and immobilized with a splint.

He remained a few feet away from her bed, a distance that he decided would be safe, because it felt too dangerous to touch her. His eyes slowly took in every piece of equipment being used to keep her stable, at first he began to count but stopped himself when he reached double digits.

His brow furrowed the moment he noticed the padded white cuffs still attaching Hol's wrists to the bed frame.

"Why is she still strapped down?" He demanded, his voice oddly distorted from hours of not speaking.

"It’s just a precaution for now.” Kalonia began to explain, seeming to choose her words cautiously. “She’s still on anticonvulsants to help reduce the likelihood of further seizures, but even while sedated there are still some tremors. With the location of the drainage tube we can’t risk her moving too violently or ripping it out when she wakes.”

Poe blinked, taking a moment to process the information.

"How long does she have to keep the tube?”

“No more than 2 to 3 days.”

He nodded while he chewed on his lower lip, his eyes still trained on Hol.

“Look, Dameron…”

She interrupted his thoughts in a gentle tone that was meant to be comforting, but it only made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. Dr. Kalonia was known for ruthlessly running the medbay like a battleship. They went back far too long, he knew to brace for the worst whenever she started to go soft.

Poe turned to face her, the pit of dread he felt low in his stomach was only growing. He would have given anything in that moment for them to fall into their traditional roles, for him to be the one injured and for her to be yelling at him. - Dammit, Dameron! Either make yourself useful or get the hell out of my medbay!

But she only continued to speak in that horribly gentle tone.

“As Tarmin’s commanding officer, there is something else that you should know.”

She walked him around to the opposite side of the bed, where there was noticeably less tubing.

“During the examination before her surgery, I noticed some smaller injuries that made me order full lab work.”

He watched as she lifted the bit of blanket covering Hol’s legs.

“I found infected injection sites on the insides of her arms and thighs, then these small circular burns on her ankles.”

Immediately Poe began to understand the rationale behind her delicate words.

He'd seen those marks on more than a few Resistance members who managed to escape capture. He sported similar ones himself after being captured on Jakku...after the Finalizer.

“We found traces of antipsychotics, nerve agents, and truth serum in her system.” Kalonia continued to explain.

He bowed his head as he listened, the sour taste of bile was creeping up in the back of his mouth. He pinched the bridge of his nose while the facts began to register in his mind. His teeth clamped down on the inside of his cheek, he forced himself to slowly exhale.

"There are chafe marks on her body from restraints. The partial break to her humerus looks like it's from prolonged strain during intero—"

He couldn’t let her fully pronounce the word.

"Alright!”

He didn't have it in him to yell anymore, but the tension in his voice filled the space like a streak of lightning.

To her credit, Kalonia never flinched at the sound. She stood patiently, unwavering, her face neutral as she watched him. An uneasy silence settled over the room.

He took a shaky breath, being mindful to adjust his tone before continuing.

“It’s okay.” He spoke softly, voice trembling despite his efforts. “I-I got it, Doc.”

He turned to face away as he desperately tried to calm the tightening in his throat. The corners of his eyes were sharply stinging. The best he could do to regain control was to continue biting down hard on the inside of his mouth, inhaling and exhaling through his nose.

After a couple of minutes he scrubbed both hands over his stubbled face. With the heels of his palms he rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars. Slowly, much too slowly for his liking, he was able to push his own agony down enough to recenter.

Poe turned to face Kalonia once more. He cleared his throat.

“She's not going to be in too much pain when she wakes up?” He demanded. “You can keep her comfortable, right?”

She pointed his attention to the IV stand by the head of the exam bed.

"I can't promise when she wakes up that she won't be in some pain, but we can adjust the medication through her drip and it'll take effect almost immediately."

He nodded. His hand combed through his hair before he slowly approached the bedside once more.

Poe stood and watched Hol's face for several minutes. He searched hard for any signs of movement or distress but found nothing. Her features were mercifully still and serene for the moment. She was protected under the fog of artificial sleep.

“How long are you going to keep her under?”

The question was spoken in a near whisper.

“Depends on her vitals, but at least a day, maybe two.”

Kalonia took the time to show him her vitals displayed on the monitor near the head of the bed, providing a brief explanation of what the numbers currently meant. For the moment, everything hovered just barely inside the acceptable range. It was far from ideal, but it was at least temporarily stable. They would have to see over the next few days how she progressed.

While standing there together, they witnessed a ripple of stiff movement pass through Hol’s limbs.

“Whoa…” Poe visibly straightened, alarm written on his face as he began to think the worst.

Kalonia’s hand found his arm.

“Those movements aren’t another seizure.” She assured him. “It’s a residual effect from nerve agent exposure. Think of it like the nerves in her body recalibrating.”

Poe nodded in quiet understanding, but all he could think about was the excuse Kalonia gave him earlier for keeping Hol restrained— how she didn’t want her to hurt herself. There was some logic behind it, he could admit that much. But now that he knew some of what happened to her, he could barely stomach the idea.

They allowed him to stay in Hol’s room overnight. Kalonia had a cot brought in for him to sleep on, but only under the condition that he promised two things: to use the refresher across the hall and to actually get some sleep.

When he was finally alone with her he felt oddly numb. There in the nearly dark ward of the medbay, he stood over Hol’s bed and just watched her. It took several minutes for him to work up the courage to approach, but he did it. His hand briefly rested on the metal railing, as if he was grounding himself before he finally reached to touch her.

His fingers snaked between her own as he slotted his hand over her's. Immediately he realized that her skin felt strangely warm, prompting him to reach up and feel the side of her face. A quick look at her vitals confirmed his suspicions, she had a low-grade fever beginning to form.

Poe made a note to point it out to one of the medtechs when they would come to make their rounds. He touched her hand once more before he stepped back to take a seat on the unfolded cot.

From there he watched her rest. He felt the heavy pull of exhaustion on his body, but sleep was the last thing he wanted for himself. His mind was all over the place, thinking about too many things at once.

Leia would come to visit her soon. He knew that much. Once she was past the worst and strong enough to speak, they would make her issue a report and do a formal debrief in front of Leia and her counsel.

It would be long and grueling. She would have to relive everything in great detail and be thoroughly questioned. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know all of the facts himself, but he definitely knew that he didn’t want to put her through having to recount it too many times. Those meetings were meant to be classified, but it wouldn’t take long before everyone would know.

Poe so desperately wished that he could save her from that part—when everyone on base would begin to look at her differently. He knew that it was inevitable though. While he sat there next to her bed, watching over her while she slept, he could only think about what was to come.

He knew that for however long she stayed asleep in this room, she was at least protected from all that was waiting out there. The thought comforted him some, even if it was only temporary.

He also knew that the two of them needed to talk about a lot of things once she woke up.

Her position in Black Squadron needed to be rethought. It was a massive understatement to say that her flying under him was unethical. Before Hol left for Batuu they tried to be discreet about their relationship. They both told themselves that they were doing a good enough job keeping things secret, a delusion that went well past the point of denial. They thought their regular heated arguments in front of the others and their general refusal to touch each other would provide ample cover, but their sneaking off to fuck in supplies closets hadn't always been the most covert. But now that she was back, Poe was ready to throw discretion out the window.

There were without a doubt other positions for her as a pilot, other opportunities, but it was going to be difficult convincing her. Making her understand that it wasn’t a punishment would be delicate.

He would talk it over with Leia, with some of the other squadron leaders. He would confess that he was the one in the wrong, and readily accept whatever disciplinary action came his way. They would figure something out for Hol. They had to.

Poe knew he also owed her an apology. He could have handled things differently when she volunteered for the mission, he could have spoken his mind while remaining supportive. His only memories of that conversation were just of him dressing her down, desperately trying to pull rank as a last ditch effort to keep her from leaving by herself.

The truth was that he was so fucking proud of her. During the weeks she was gone he had been livid, walking around with anger bubbling under his skin at all times. But now all he wanted was for her to hear how proud he felt, because he didn't want to leave her with those memories of their final argument.

She kept her head cool and found her way back. She survived whatever hell she fell into and fought her way out. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how she managed to pull off the execution of that landing. She had one broken arm, was trying to evade being hit with no comms system, all while coming in on fumes.

A medtech came by a couple of hours later, which woke Poe out of a light sleep.

He sat up and watched from his cot as they administered medication, checked the tubes and wires around her body to make sure nothing was out of place.

He mentioned the fever, which thankfully hadn't climbed any higher. They started her on another course of antibiotics.

“She looks peaceful, doesn’t she?” They asked him at one point.

The very moment he heard the word a bitter taste spread across his entire tongue, making his mouth twist downward in a frown. He knew they meant well enough, but his head still snapped around to look at them in disbelief.

Because "peaceful" had never been Hol.

Conniving.

Stubborn.

Impulsive.

A pain in his ass.

There were easily ten dozen choice adjectives he and quite a few others on this base could use to describe Hol Tarmin, but peaceful was definitely not one.

Peaceful was a word that people used to describe the dead.

And his girl wasn’t fucking dead.

The very idea was something he couldn’t dwell on for too long, because of the way his foundation had very nearly crumbled during those weeks she was gone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt panic the way he had at the crash site, thinking at any moment he would be forced to helplessly watch while she slipped away from him, like watching water slowly leak out of his cupped hands.

It felt selfish to have those thoughts while she was lying there in front of him, but he was keenly aware of how impossibly lucky they were to get her back — how impossibly lucky he was.

@idkwhattoputheress @boghag-after-dark @faveficsblog @flyleaf-girl @whatthehekko @maplemind @foxilayde @arctrooper69 @pascalsaac @booktvmoviefangirl @tattooednursewrites @wild-lavender-rose @alexlynn16 @euphorealis @pioneergirlsie @lilhawkeye3 @theedgeofmagik @x-wing-dameron @kik51199 @isretroavibe @mrs-kidflash @rawrimacarebear @peterwandaparker @kassdyer @holdingthegun

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars #poe dameron/reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x oc #tw blood #tw medical #tw injections #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #tw language #tw swearing

109 notes · View notes

stevenose · 11 months

Text

don’t delete the kisses - 6/?

landing page

a camboy!steve au

this installment contains: gender unspecified reader; camboy!steve; like a hint of sugardaddy!steve but it’s a HINT; affection; lil bit of inconsequential angst; lingerie (reader wearing); masturbation (reader)

authors note: i decided if i was going to write this long from i might as well write it grammatically correct lol so sorry for the formatting change! appreciate y’all, actual sexy time next chap PINKY PROMMY !!!

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Keith shoves his hand inside a bag of Doritos. It makes you want to scream. “They want it cleared out by the end of the week.”

“And you just learned this today?”

He nods, hand unmoving from the bag. You freeze, shocked by his casualty.

“And you’re not upset?”

“I’ve got the arcade,” he says, shrugging a shoulder towards next door. “Nostalgia for games is in, not VHS.”

You want to strangle someone. Mostly him. The door opens and men - movers - pile in with more boxes and dollies.

“If you help, you’ll get paid til the end of the week,” Keith says through a mouthful of chips.

“You understand I’m broke, right? You know my rent went up like a billion dollars and it’s a thousand for a week of groceries, right? And you’re giving me five days to find another job?”

He shrugs again. “You kinda should have seen this coming.”

Incredulous, you grab a cardboard box and stomp to the break room, pulling your phone out with your free hand.

i am so fucked

You wish he was here. To share a look with, to scream with. Though Steve wouldn’t really suffer like you’re suffering. You almost want to curse him for it. You shove a few tapes into the box, overcrowding it, not caring enough.

By who?

Not me. :/

You roll your eyes, but you smile wide.

don’t tease

just lost my job lol

He calls you a few moments later. “What happened?”

“They’re closing the damn store.”

“Finally?”

“I’m screwed!”

“I’ll be right there - give me half an hour, okay?”

He hangs up before you can protest. It takes 45 on a good day, but you know he’ll speed for you, which makes you smile and worry simultaneously.

You spent the night with Steve after your confessional, but it didn’t go any further. He insisted on having uninterrupted time with you. Neither of you wanted to risk being caught, either, so you instead curled up together. It was admittedly a little awkward - things were moving impossibly fast and much too slow. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to hold each other, or touch - but after staying up until 4 in the morning talking and giggling, your back ended up pressed against his chest, his warm breath fanning across the back of your neck.

“Gotta take those little shits home,” he mumbled into your ear when you woke to whooping and singing only four hours later. His tone was apologetic, and he pressed a feather-light kiss right under your earlobe. “So, later?”

“Later,” you agreed sleepily, following him to the kitchen for coffee.

It took everything for you to avoid Eddie’s prying eyes.

But you hadn’t seen Steve since, both too busy the following day to make the trip. You’re relieved to see him, though nervous. What do you say? How do you act? There’s still so much that you haven't said. Too much and not enough time in between your last interaction with him.

He busts through the door 27 minutes later, looking out of breath, as if he’d run to you. He searches for you among the sea of boxes before spotting you in the Fantasy section. You yelp as he grabs you, pulling you into the Adult section, behind the velvet curtain.

“You okay?” he asks, rubbing your arms before pulling you into his own. You sigh, instantly comforted. “I’m sorry, this sucks.”

“Yeah,” you mumble into his chest. He smells like vanilla, some sandalwood. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. My rent - how am I gonna-?” You have to cut yourself off to stop yourself from crying.

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “I’ll help.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I will,” he insists, pulling back. “I’m serious, I will. It’s no big deal, I can afford to.”

“That’s - no,” you push. “Steve, you can’t pay my rent, it’s hundreds.”

“I probably owe you that much, don’t I?” He’s got an amused glint in his eyes. You pinch his chest lightly.

“It’s not fair.”

“I’d do it for anyone,” he says, and you know it’s true. “Though you are my favorite.”

You bite your bottom lip until he pops it out with his thumb. “How about you just... pay for our dates?”

Steve scoffs. “I was already going to do that.”

“I’m not trying to use you.”

“I know.” He rubs your cheekbone with his thumb. It’s so wholly intimate, almost unbearable under his hazel gaze. “Let me do what I can, okay?”

You sigh heavily. “Okay.”

He pulls you into his chest again, resting his chin on the top of your head while his hands run soothingly up and down your back. “Besides. I know a few ways you can make it up to me.”

“Oh?” Your cheeks heat, stomach flipping, aching between your thighs.

“Yeah,” he whispers, pulling back to look at you. “Like... stealing one of these for me.”

He reaches over your head to grab a video, pulling back to read it. “Ah, Big Tittied Bimbos Gone Wild III, an excellent choice.”

You giggle, grabbing his wrist to pull him into you again. “Sure. Guess you need somethin’ to watch while you work, huh?”

Which gives you an idea.

You feel stupid when you set up your phone later that night, Steve back at his apartment after buying you lunch and helping you throw tapes into boxes. You’re dressed scantily, in your best lingerie, a set that’s sat in your wardrobe for months. You’ve done yourself up to look your best, wanting to look perfect for him. Like an angel. You bite your lip, sighing and trying to hype yourself up before pressing the circular red button.

“Hi,” you say shyly, moving to the chair stationed in front of your phone. “Wanted to send you something for helping me today.”

Behind your phone, your laptop is open, Steve’s profile and videos loaded up. The camera is fully on you, from the waist up, but he’s sure to know what you’re watching when he hears the audio. You press play on a video where Steve’s touching himself. It’s soft and sensual, little groans and moans slipping from his mouth as he plays gently with his cock. You try to ignore your image reflected back to you off to the side and move your hands up to your chest. You cup yourself, thumbs rolling over your nipples. You shudder and sigh, head thrown back just slightly but eyes still on Steve. Only his hand and lower half are present, and you wish you could see his face.

You feel yourself up, the ache below growing to be nearly unbearable. Your hands skim over your exposed skin, making goosebumps rise. You eventually move your hands behind you, unfastening your bra and letting it fall to the floor below you. Your nipples are pretty and perked from your attention on them. “Wish you were here,” you sigh. “Would love to feel your lips on these… and down here.”

Your hand trails down your stomach to the waistband of your underwear. You click to another video. It’s one of Steve fully exposed, his fingers dipping in and out of a fleshlight before fucking his cock into it. You follow the motions of his fingers, slipping the pads of them up and down your skin, letting yourself finally relax as the pleasure builds.

The video’s a full twenty minutes before you’re finished. You were sure to moan his name, along with strings of swears. Your body shakes and writhes with your orgasm, fully on display, and you smile blissfully to yourself. You have to upload it privately to your Google account because it’s much too big to send him via text. You smile maliciously as you send him the link, along with the text, in case you wondered what i looked like while watching you.

It’s stressful waiting for him to reply. You nearly lock your phone away while you wait. You’re disheartened after forty minutes with no reply, but after an hour, he does.

Unlock your door. I’ll be there in 25.

taglist: @sillypurplemurple @kknockursocksofff @knowitsforthebetterr @micheledawn1975 @thehermitsaltar @loverofmarsss @unbetaedimagines @mikefaistwasinnewsies @localbnbg @starlitlakes @the-fairy-anon @cloudroomblog @inmyh0rnyvillainera @sherrylyn628 @piecsesrising @mandyjo8719 @astermath @mochminnie @live-the-fangirl-life @five-seconds-flat @kennedy-brooke @munsonzzgf @mysticrose1210

#steve harrington smut #stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #camboy!steve #camboy!au

284 notes · View notes

whorety-k · 14 days

Text

Ebony Coasts [Part 6]

I'm sorry this took so long!! Between my busy life and wanting a quick change up so I could practice to make this chapter better, I definitely took my sweet time on this chapter. It's another long one but it was genuinely fun and I hope you all think the same. Thank you for your patience!!!

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: Witchcraft - Graveyard Club “It’s midnight on Main Street / and this town’s all asleep / But you’re still here with me / and I know that / Darling your love's like witchcraft.”

Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, culture shock and misunderstanding between species, food, using the word chips instead of crisps because author is American, fluff

Word Count: 4.5k I AM SO SORRY

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 7 (NSFW)]

Waking up three hours later, sticky and crusted with salt was a lot less comfortable than the dreamy atmosphere you had drifted off to sleep in. Corvus was reluctant to let you leave to go home and change, but he recognized that there was no feasible way for you to clean yourself up while you were in his den; the salt water would have wedged sand into more unsavory places. You promised him it would only be thirty minutes to an hour before you would return and, after explaining what an hour was, he relinquished his protests and encouraged you to be safe. You leaned up on your tip-toes for a kiss goodbye, which the mer bashfully gave.

The soothing stream of warm water coursing down your back makes you wonder just how difficult it would be to install a shower within Corvus’s cavern, before kicking yourself for the thought of modernizing any part of the beach that you’re technically supposed to be protecting. The thought of being able to live more readily with Corvus has your brain misbehaving. You hop out of the shower and towel off, changing into a significantly-less-saline outfit than you had been in previously.

Before leaving your apartment, your eyes stray to the dusty picnic basket beneath your desk. For years, the woven wicker has sat unused and taunting you, waiting for its opportunity to see the light of day. The lack of luck in relationships previously had halted any usage of the item, but perhaps today was the day it finally saw usage. You grab the basket.

But what to bring on a picnic with a literal merman? What does a giant fish-person like? You realize you have no idea where to start with him, so when you stop by your pantry you toss two random junk foods inside. Oreos and potato chips. Perfect. It still doesn’t feel like enough though, and you quickly check the time. You still have another fifteen or so minutes to make it back to the coast before Corvus should start to worry. On a whim, you toss the picnic basket on the passenger seat of your car and speed over to the only grocery store between your apartment and the coast.

You’re just as clueless and indecisive as you were at home, but now you were clueless and indecisive with options. The lady behind the meat counter gives you an uncertain look the longer you stare at the identical cuts of salmon.

“If you’re struggling, the Alaskan wild-caught is a better–”

“-Thank you!” You don’t even let her finish before you’re throwing three filets into the shopping cart then speeding off, completely missing the stunned look she throws your way. You barely make sure to wrap them enough to hide the fishy smell.

In the checkout lane, you give in to the crow brain and grab a random rainbow bag of sour candy from the hanging, as well as a pack of four chocolate strawberries from a vendor outside of the store. Are mermen able to eat chocolate? Is it like a dog and cat scenario? You’ve never tried giving a chocolate bar to a fish. Wasn’t there someone who fed their fish Kitkats and it survived? Well, if he can’t have it, it’s just more for you.

You slam the door to the Bronco and gun it for the beach when you arrive. With the picnic basket and a large blanket in hand, it’s not particularly feasible to make it down the cliff face, so you take the long way around. It’s only just been an hour, so hopefully–

A milk white limb wraps around your midsection and lifts you from the ground, causing you to drop your freight in the commotion. Corvus holds you like a kitten, a look of concern plain in his voidish eyes as he intently studies your body.

“You are not injured? It has been greater than an hour. Has something occurred?” He inquires, gently lifting and turning you as he looks you over.

You shake off the shock of being startled, simultaneously chuckling at the doting behavior and irritated with having been snuck up on again. “I’m fine,” you say, prompting the anxious mer to stop twisting you from side to side. Corvus relaxes and lowers you gently back to the sand. Once back on solid ground, you look down at your watch. An involuntary sigh leaves your lungs.

“Corvus.”

“Yes?”

“It has been an hour and three minutes.”

“Yes.”

“This? Over three minutes?”

The merman nods his head, that stoic expression never once faltering. “I worried for your well being.”

Realizing that pressing the matter will get you nowhere, you decide to find the action endearing. When you step to the side to pick up your fallen items, Corvus quickly beats you to it, relinquishing you of the blanket and grabbing the picnic basket before you even have the chance to turn around. It looks comically small in his large hands, cupped like a ball.

“Are we returning to the den?” Corvus asks, readying himself to head that direction. He slides past you, shielding you from the focused rays of the looming sunset.

“That depends,” you start, placing a hand on one of his ebony side fins. The giant stops, twitching from the contact. “How do you feel about trying some human foods?”

Corvus stops, glancing down at you before his attention turns to the basket in his hand. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs at it, and you resist cooing at how cute his ear fins look when they subtly perk up. “I am not opposed to it, however…” His head turns to the horizon, looking out over the waves.

The setting sun casts the sky in a brilliant red, leftover clouds from the earlier storm reflecting the light in a kaleidoscope of pinks, oranges, and yellows. The charcoal rocks of the cliffside bleed into sandstone, cast coral in the dying glow. Lava flows of sand quench in the dusky ocean waves.

“It’s perfect,” you interrupt, grabbing the blanket from his clawed hand. Corvus turns back as you march to the embankment and set up the massive blanket. He watches happily (for someone so usually reserved) as you buzz around like a bee, trying your hardest to get it flat on the sand. Mercifully, the giant holds a corner steady to help you lay out the swath of cloth. When you come back for the picnic basket, he already has it lowered to your level for easy access.

“Get on,” you say, patting the blanket and folding your arms to wait. Corvus spares you a final glance before he carefully slides his way onto the cover, the translucent black fins of his magnificent tail reflecting the threads beneath them. He rests his back against a smooth face of the cliffside and hums his contentment. Enthusiasm at the mer’s comfort thrums through your veins.

Unfortunately, the blanket that’s normally so large on you is nothing compared to the large fins of the black mer. There’s no room for you to sit with him, so you start to kick a clearing beside him for you to sit beside him instead. “I didn’t have a blanket larger than this, so–”

“Would you like to sit on my tail?” Corvus extends a hand towards you, offering you a way to climb up onto him. He adjusts to create a flatter surface.

The marine biologist in you screams ‘I thought you would never offer!’, but the polite person in you wins and instead asks, “Are you sure?” Corvus bows his head and calmly helps you clamber up onto his tail, holding the picnic basket in one hand as he steadies you with the other. He’s cautious to set you low on his lap, below the fins that adorn his waist. You resist touching them, lest you get (literally or figuratively) thrown off of the tail you were just allowed to sit on.

You reach for the picnic basket and Corvus places it before you, allowing you to trifle through it. Strategically, you keep the salmon hidden in the cold compartment at the bottom beneath some ice, drawing out the bag of oreos. A gentle hand rests upon your thigh as the mer watches.

“So these are called Oreos,” you explain, holding one up for Corvus to see, “They’re sandwich cookies with cream in the center.”

Corvus nods as if he understands and scents the item, before opening his mouth to take it. He wants you to feed him you realize, and you carefully place the cookie on his tongue, avoiding his sharp teeth. The cookie is gone with a few crunches. You use the moment to take an oreo for yourself: sweet filling and crunchy cocoa, just as you remember.

The mer isn’t as receptive, nose minutely scrunching as he swallows. You laugh at the face he makes. “Are all humans so fond of sweetened chemicals?” Corvus asks, clearing his throat.

“Some. Not everyone’s a fan,” you reply.

Corvus nods, thinking for a moment. The dwindling light of the dusk has come to a near end, pale moonlight glittering over his visage as his head bows near to yours. Eventually, the mer comes to a conclusion, “The ‘cookie’ half was fine, but I did not enjoy the filling.”

“You’d be surprised how many people agree with you on that,” you note, lean forward to place a kiss on his cheek—

Corvus places a hand over your mouth as he abruptly perks up, stilling completely. His head snaps to the side, eyes glaring in one direction: the rocks in the shallows. You feel the brush of soft flesh before his tail completely blocks your view.

“Is everything okay?” you whisper into his hand, trying to lean around it.

He doesn’t let you. “We are being watched,” Corvus deadpans, eyes fixed on the same invisible spot in the distance. He doesn’t comment further, but his hand moves to your back to curl around you protectively.

The lack of reaction from Corvus and the uncertainty of the situation sets your mind racing. Watched? Watched by what? By who? Are there other humans nearby, looking upon the merman with uncertain eyes, calling the authorities? Your heart begins to palpate in your chest, thumping against your ribcage like a drum. Something’s going to happen to Corvus and it’s going to be entirely your fault, having gotten the mer comfortable with your presence and having him sit out in the open like this. Corvus is going to lose his freedom and his blood is going to be on your hands—

“At ease, little gem,” Corvus calls to you, stroking a soft knuckle down your spine, “You are in no danger.” You snap up to look at him, seeing his midnight eyes now peering down at you. You take a deep breath, and the pounding in your chest slowly begins to steady.

Corvus’s eyes turn back to the shoreline, a swish of his feathery bangs revealing just how furrowed his eyebrows are. He looks disappointed, and you wait for an explanation. With a sigh, he offers, “It is nothing more than someone not knowing that I would prefer privacy.”

A slight droop in his tail allows you to finally see into the partially-illuminated waters. You strain your eyes to find whatever Corvus has been staring at, looking between jagged rocks and soft swells, but absolutely nothing reveals itself to you. Confused, you ask, “Where are you looking?” Corvus doesn’t answer, but eventually you take the hint to follow his eyes to another rock. Still, you see nothing.

The giant startles you by calling something out loudly in a language you do not understand, but finally you notice what he’s been staring at. What you had been fully convinced was just a normal rock lifts itself from the water, revealing a wall of black metal before removing a beak-like helmet. Pale skin begins to reflect the moon’s rays back at you, framed by a mop of black hair straight out of 2005’s top emo bands. As it approaches, you’re surprised to see that it looks strikingly similar to Corvus himself: a large frame with a betta-like tail that’s a tad more narrow, but still visibly powerful. This mer is shorter than Corvus by a substantial amount, but still definitely much larger than you are.

It– He, you believe, converses with Corvus in that unfamiliar tongue the entire time he comes closer, awkwardly dragging himself forward in sand until he’s within a few feet of your blanket. You think Corvus is asking this new mer a few tense questions, based off of the scolding tone of his voice and guilt in the new mer’s eyes, but any communication is lost on you. When Corvus fully lowers his tail, you see the new mer’s eyes widen, but it restrains from any further movement. Corvus finishes whatever conversation he was having and directs his attention back to you eventually with a call of your name.

“This is Shadow Captain Kayvaan Shrike,” he says to you, gesturing a hand in Shrike’s direction. You introduce yourself, unsure if he understands you, and hesitantly reach a hand out towards Shrike for a handshake. He stares at it dumbly, until Corvus mutters something to him in their shared language and Shrike gently takes your hand in his. Incorrectly, just as Corvus had. You’re beginning to notice a trend with the seafolk, and you would call it cute if it wasn’t for the unquestionable strength in the hand over yours.

Corvus directs another inquiry at Shrike, and Shrike takes his hand back to point behind you. Before you can fully turn around, a new voice incredibly near to your head causes you to all but fling yourself off of Corvus’s tail. The giant mer catches you and your picnic basket with a huff, turning his head to address the second newcomer. You follow to see another pale face looking at you inquisitively, standing adjacent to Corvus. He bears similar armor to Shrike, but instead of a shaggy swoop, he wore a slicked-back mohawk. All three merfolk possess the same blacked-out eyes.

“Nykona,” Corvus grunts, before delving into another scolding. ‘Nykona’ doesn’t wear the same kicked-puppy expression Shrike did, instead continuing to observe you in silence. His gaze carries the intensity of someone who has seen and done things in his lifetime that you wouldn’t be able to stomach, sending shivers down your spine. At the end of Corvus’s speech, he gives a simple response and a nod.

Your mer finally turns back to you and directs you towards ‘Nykona’, saying, “And this is Nykona Sharrowkyn, Mor Deythan. Both he and Kayvaan are Astartes.” You have no idea what the second half of that means, but you acknowledge it anyway. You opt to cling to your basket instead of offering a handshake to Nykona, checking the inside contents to make sure they’re alright. Everything appears to be in place.

Nykona and Shrike shift to listen to Corvus speak again, that rhythmic guttural vaguely similar to what it sounds like to list a species’ proper name. You try to make sense of it, but only occasionally do you pick up on names.

The quiet exchange continues on for a fair while longer, before a fantastic idea causes you to jolt upright. Each of the raven-colored merfolk look at you, and you beam at them.

“Do they want to try some human food?”

Corvus had to set a few ground rules with the Astartes, and he had gently placed you down upon the blanket before explaining that it should only take a short moment.

It did not, in fact, take a short moment.

Shrike and Nykona seemed to have an interrogation of their own for Corvus, but in the end, you were actually grateful for the opportunity to see how merfolk interacted with each other. Perhaps it was just these individuals, but they were incredibly formal with each other by your human standards. Respectful distances, no yelling, what seemed like actual discussion. You dare say that Corvus was affectionate with them the way a father was with his sons, reassuring any perceived outburst with a hand on the shoulder and gentle words. The two smaller mer even doff their armor, broad in build even without the augments. You avert your gaze respectfully.

Eventually, Corvus seemed content with the state of things and led the two newcomers back over to you. Corvus curls around your back protectively, leaning against the cliff face again. Nykona makes his way to your right, resting his front on the comfortable blanket while his tail remains on the sand. Shrike has no qualms sitting on the blanket directly beside you.

A strongly-accented voice prods about the basket. “So we are eating what’s in there?” Shrike asks, head tilted like a curious dog.

“Oh! Yes, that’s the plan.” You had no idea whether or not the ‘Astartes’ could understand you, let alone respond to you, so the question comes as a surprise to you. You open the basket, showing him the contents.

Shrike inspects them, then reaches within to pull out a package: a desaturated baby blue with a potato chip on the cover. The captain sniffs at the bag and is confused when he can’t smell much outside of the plastic. “I have seen these floating in the waves before, but they are not often sealed.”

The sentence makes you frown, and you gesture for him to hand you the bag of chips. “Not every human cares about the ocean the way I do. They’ll eat the contents and leave the trash behind. It’s awful behavior.” You pull the sides of the bag open to reveal the salt-and-vinegar chips within. The acrid smell of vinegar makes all three of the mer recoil with varying intensity when you happily pop a chip in your mouth.

In an attempt to ease them into the other foods, you withdraw the strawberries. The smell of the sweet chocolate coating catches their attention instantly, and Corvus, despite all of his politeness, doesn’t wait for you. He tears open the clamshell with a gentle claw and plucks one of the large confectionaries for himself. You give him a playful glare before you take your own berry, noticing that a second is already missing. Nykona chomps away at his from the edge of the blanket.

Only Shrike dares to take a chip from the bag, both Corvus and Nykona passing up the offer politely. Each of you watch as the pungent acidity and saltiness causes the Astartes to wince, gills fluttering awkwardly as he breaks into uncomfortable coughs. Shrike spits the chip out into the sand with groan, wiping off his tongue. You place a hand on his shoulder to comfort him through it, and you’re surprised to see it actually seem to ground him. So is he, by the way he gently pushes your hand away. When Shrike is calmed down enough to focus on another food, he reaches for the remaining strawberry– then lets out a short growl. Shrike’s eyes instantly snap over to Nykona.

Nykona, rather contently, chews on Shrike’s allotted berry. He wears a face of perfect nonchalance.

Corvus covers you protectively with a hand as Shrike glares down his fellow Astartes, but you break the tension by offering Kayvaan your berry. He looks down at the strawberry reluctantly, eyes flicking between it and your patient face. Tentatively, Shrike takes the berry and plops it whole into his mouth, and the instant relaxation in his eyes makes giving up your treat worth it.

You feel a gentle rumbling against your back, and you look up to see the tender expression Corvus casts your way. A careful hand places itself at your shoulders and strokes the muscles there, and you return the soft look.

Nykona crinkling the rainbow bag of candy pulls you from the moment. “These are sweet too. I can smell it,” he mutters, using a claw to open the larger bag and spill out the individually wrapped pieces within.

Warheads. You had bought Warheads. You may have loved Warheads, but you seriously doubt they would given the collective reaction to the salt-and-vinegar chips.

Nykona picks up one of the packaged candies and makes an unreadable face, with Shrike following suit. You take one for yourself and Corvus, offering it up to your betta.

“These are called Warheads. They’re sour candy, so they’re not really for everyone, but I like them.” After your brief explanation, you show each of the boys how to open the packaging and plop the hard candy into your mouth. The instant burn on your tongue causes you to shiver, but after a bit of intense salivation, it quickly gives way to the sweet candy underneath.

The hesitation on each of their faces is clear, but after Corvus places the candy in his mouth, the Astartes follow suit.

You’re surprised to see each of the merfolk maintaining a straight face. Honestly, you had expected each of them to absolutely hate the taste. Hell, most humans hated the taste of warheads because of the extreme burn of sour each of them packed. It was a pleasant surprise to know that Corvus and his… pod(?) must enjoy sour candy—

A shuddering choke to your left catches your attention. Shrike breaks first, letting out an uncomfortable hiss of air and shaking his head, hair covering his face. A groan from your right, and Nykona is removing the warhead from his mouth, dropping the sticky sugar onto the blanket with a less-than-amused look. You only just notice Corvus reach up and take the Warhead off of his tongue, holding it between his claws and frowning at it.

He looks at you with sad eyes, “That was… unpleasant.”

It’s enough to break you into a fit of hysterics, throwing your head back against Corvus’s tail as your core shakes with laughter. Each breath wheezes out of you uncontrollably, limbs feeling gooey as you sink further and further into the blanket.

No one else seems as amused.

Once you get yourself mostly under control, you fall forward onto your hands and knees and reach into the basket with unsteady hands. The merfolk watch as you rummage through it and pull out the hidden salmon filets from within. With pride, you present the orange meat towards the sky.

You don’t even see each of them move– you can only feel the air move around you before your hands are completely empty. The tang of fish fills the air from every direction, then the wet sound of teeth ripping into flesh. You could only describe the scene as feral, sharks tearing into unsuspecting seals in an attempt to wash the taste of the warheads out of their mouth. Only to another marine biologist could you describe it as “cute.”

Corvus wipes off his mouth as he finishes, a soft huff of relief leaving his gills. He gives you a pensive look before his hands snake beneath your arms, lifting you up and drawing you close. You hold yourself against him with a hand on his chest as he adjusts his grip to support your weight better, missing the look the giant casts to the other mer. Movement behind you causes you to look over your shoulder, and you’re surprised to see Nykona and Shrike completely clad in their armor once again, Shrike’s white helmet making him easy to identify in the low light. Both Astartes salute Corvus, hands crossed over their chest, before slithering back towards the ocean. You wave at them in goodbye, receiving a nod of acknowledgement as they go.

Corvus bends down to gather your blanket and basket, cradling you to shield you from the change of gravity then starting off in the direction of his den. With Shrike and Nykona gone, a warm silence fills the air. You smile up at your black betta, and he returns it. You glance back towards the water.

You can't help but wonder more about their relationship, and you make it known, “I know their names, but who are they?”

Corvus trails your glance towards the sea. “Nykona and Kayvaan are my sons.”

His words drop like a bombshell, and you freeze. The thought that Corvus has sons fills you with unease and… jealousy? Sure, you know Corvus has a life outside of yours, and you knew that he had one before you were around, but the thought still does terrible things to your heart.

Corvus can smell the dismay on you, and as soon as you two are within the safety of his cavern, he drops the items he’s carrying. He uses his freed hand to lift your chin, tilting your head to look up at him, “Do not be troubled. They are only my sons in name…”

You find relief in his reassurances, but the way he trails off leads you to feel suspicious once more. You know there’s more he has more to say, and you motion for him to go on. Corvus’s jaw tenses.

“They are made with my genetic material, but I had no hand in making them myself.”

Well that statement causes distinctly more heretical thoughts that you have to force yourself to tamp down. It still doesn’t explain very much, instead replacing your former question with less tasteful ones. With a shake of your head, you admit, “I still don’t understand.”

“It is better that way,” Corvus sighs and continues carrying you all the way into the bedspace, sequestering you both somewhere private. It comforts him to have you completely to himself without anyone to intrude on the moment.

Perhaps there are better times to be a biologist, you reason as Corvus settles the two of you into the bed of furs, placing you on the un-scaled half of his lap. You look up at him with hearts in your eyes, leaning forward to rest against his cold chest. The sensation of something metal digging into your sternum causes you to sit up, looking down your shirt. You move to shift your raven necklace out of the way so you can lean against Corvus more comfortably, but your hand catches on a second necklace that you don’t remember putting on.

Cautiously, you withdraw the pendant and turn it over it in your hand, examining the teardrop of metal cradling a familiar black pearl. Warmth blooms in your cheeks as you gaze up into Corvus’s eyes.

That handsome face of carved alabaster smiles down at you expectantly.

----------------------------------------

these two pictures had me dying laughing

this is permanently in my search history now because I was also curious

I tried to base Kayvaan Shrike off of pre-heresy, as well as Nykona, but it can be difficult with such little source material so they definitely have aspects of their later personalities.

If you don't want smut, it's perfectly feasible to stop after this chapter!! This story can comfortably conclude here :)

If you do want smut, though, please enjoy:

[Part 7]

#warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 30k #corvus corax #primarch #primarch x reader #corvus corax x reader #warhammer fanfic #mermay #raven lady writings #nykona sharrowkyn and kayvaan shrike jumpscare #literally

54 notes · View notes