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themarginalthinker · 10 months

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for @berd-alert a little something to get you through the day. a half-finished scene based on potential events that may happen in our current vtm campaign. based off that goofy ship scene in Treasure Planet. Enjoy, darling.

Dean peers around the corner.

The grand hall of the Met was empty this time of night - of humans. His eyes flickered to and fro, from dark corner to the railings of the galleries above. They hadn't had an issue getting in, as one lonely ghouled door guard made for pretty piss-poor security, but simply not seeing anyone didn't mean no-one was there.

Nosferatu weren't the only ones with Obfuscate, and disappearing was the least the ability could do.

Still, Dean reasons, if anyone was going to jump them to keep them from going further, they'd have done it by now. He waves his hand.

"Alright, you know the plan. I'm going to try and get to the offices up there, you-"

"Go for the cameras! I know, Dean!"

Dean hisses as Rigby's voice bounces out across the wide open of the grand hall, accusing, miffed, and above all else, loud. He swings about and lands a hand on the smaller vampire's face, palm smack over his mouth.

"Does the word 'stealth' mean anything to you?" He grits out between elongated fangs.

What he gets for his troubles is a hand wet with cold, pink Kindred spit.

"No one around," Rigby says when Dean's taken back his arm and is furiously wiping it on his shirt.

"That we know of," Dean sighs. "Look, as much as...we have to trust that she's got her reasons for doing this, Parthena is still technically going against her sect here."

"Stolen books for stolen magic from stolen blood," Rigby nods.

Something like that. If they were going to get anything, it was going to be from the Tremere and it wasn't going to be easy. Parthena had told them Sturbridge had made that more than clear, as intrigued as she was by the (totally hypothetical) notion of something like Sammy.

Dean casts a last look out at the room, just in case something had changed, which after a minute it appeared it hadn't, and then nods to Rigby.

Like a baggy-coated flash of light, the Malkavian was off, making for the stairs that would lead down to the security offices and other electronic control centers for the building. As much as the art was kept under so much lock and key, Dean knew there was other, more precious things to be had that employed defenses far more effective than a simple magnetic strip lock on the door. Keeping the mundane authorities away for even a few minutes could mean the difference between finally getting some answers, and. Well.

Dean just wouldn't think of the possibility of failure.

"One door, two door, grey door...more grey door..." Rigby hummed to himself as he trawled the labyrinth of corridors and hallways. The building above was much nicer, with much more natural lighting. Everything looked the same.

Floor one, exit. Stairwell, emergency exit. Exibibits 1-5.

Rigby blinked at the words as they cast their shadows and seared lines into his vision. Could mean anything. Could mean nothing.

"One wire, and no stress, wire me a line, 'cause I've got a ticket to ri-ide..." he sighs, rounding another corner.

A sound reaches his ears, and Rigby is suddenly still as the living dead. They won't see him if he doesn't move, and Rigby has no intentions to. Eyes sweep from side to side. to his destination - nothing. To the hallway just past - nothing there.

Like a strobe in front of his eyes, green and red and electric and leaving trails in his vision, Exit. Exit. Exit. E x it x. T iTexit EEEEEExiExtii-

"Soon," Rigby says to the sign in the reflection of the shiny floor.

It settles it enough to find the door he needs.

Unlocking it, and pulling it open, he is face to face with a room of circuit breakers in metal cages of chain-link. Dimly lit, thankfully, just a few halogen security bulbs keeping the place only just navigable by mortal eyes, casting long, orange streaks between the shadows. The floor was concrete and bare, cables snaking here and there (all in orderly fashion, of course.)

Rigby steps in an closes the door behind him.

Exhibits 1-5, Exhibits 6-11, EEEEEExhibits 12-13-

Ah.

Rigby pauses in his wandering and reading. His foot just above taking another step.

On the ground before him, in possibly the darkest shadow yet, was something....something. It gleamed wetly, slugishly. Long lines, fading away into the concrete ground in rounds and shapes. Rigby blinked hard, and Looked.

Those long lines now formed an even wider shape, with even more inside. A circle. Drawn in dark, thick, old vitae.

Rigby tilts his head.

He bites his thumb, cold blood rising in a dot to the surface, and he reaches out.

Dean had been told where he'd find what the head of the Chantrey wanted, but it seemed finding that was going to be its own adventure. He darted from corner to corner, using his passcard as often as he was able. The offices of the Met were as lovingly (and expensively) decorated as the rest of the place, and Dean more than suspected that some of the art that likely should have been out on show or kept in the archives was in fact adorning the walls and hallways of the desk drudgery of people with too much time and money on their hands.

He was no Indiana Jones, though. It was all technically in a museum, and he didn't really care either way. Not what he was concerned about.

Finally, he came to a door. This door was just like any other door in the winding mess of office space, save for one, tiny detail he'd been told to look for.

Near the bottom, almost touching the floor, scratched into the wood of the door, was a little symbol.

A half-circle, the open end of it facing down, and from that a cross.

A little, line-art ankh.

If he could breath, he'd have huffed out a relieved puff. Good. The Tremere hadn't lied. Yet.

Dean reaches out and grasps the handle of the door, lifting his keycard to open it, when something,

happens.

All of a sudden, it's like all the air in the building is gone. No, it's - it's like it's inverted, like Dean is breathing backwards rather than even as his dead body still can, and, in each, the taste of blood - Kindred blood - coats his mouth.

Almost as quickly as it had happened, it stops. Dean blinks, but

then something else.

He's in the air. He's suddenly unmoored from the bounds of gravity, as though it had simply stopped working. Dean flails, a cry at his lips he barely suppresses as he writhes in the air, only managing to flip himself around. Around him, nothing else has changed, it's just him, though, as he watches, a potted plant in the corner begins to, before his eyes, wither and die, and the leaves crumble to dead, dried dust.

And just as before, suddenly, it stops.

Dean does let out a too-hearty "fuck!" as he's suddenly dropped five feet back to the floor, landing almost on his own head.

Growling, he stands, panic felt in every follicle of hair and every nerve end.

"That crazy fucking Malk is gonna get us-"

Dean doesn't have half a moment before there's long, steel-enforced, bony claws smashing into the wood where his head had been less than a second before, the both of them inhumanly fast.

Dean whips around, fangs out, reflexes on edge and powered by his own blood as he rounds on his attacker.

They're a woman -at least, he thinks so - who stands hunched and glaring at him. She's wearing clothing that one could call 'streets-chic' as having known Rigby, this is a rich man's imitation of the fashions of those without means to buy clothing often. Fitted black hoodie, long dark cowl hood that frames choppy, short blond hair, jeans that look like their pockets and belts might pack a bit more heat if the kevlar vest she was also wearing was anything to go by.

One arm, the one she'd extended to attempt to impale his head with, retreated and he could see the massive, hooked claws that sunk back into the skin. The knuckles of that hand were adorned with metal claws to match.

Her eyes, narrowed in rage at her miss, were slitted and green.

Cat. Animal.

Dean didn't have a chance to rattle off anything scathing about a Gangrel playing housecat to the Camarilla before something

happened.

Suddenly, the world was black. A humming, dark abyss that surrounds them both, that eats the world. If there is anything beyond this, it's impossible to tell. And from the sounds of it, the harsh cry almost lost in the living void around them, the Gangrel woman is feeling this too.

"Not that, oh bad Rigby! DON'T WORRY DEAN I GOT IT!" Rigby shouts to himself as he Sees beyond Seeing in order to even find the circle again in the Oblivion he'd accidentally inflicted upon the building, biting his hand for the third time and starts re-re-writing what he'd changed.

Dean wonders if this is what it's like to see for the first time when the endless, choking darkness was suddenly gone as though it had never been there, because shit, even the office hallway looked like the light of fucking God after that.

For a moment, Dean and the Gangrel can only blink stupidly at each other.

Dean then turns, and with all the quickening that's left in his body, runs.

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #The Worst Coterie in New York #Dean Walker #Rigby Bennet #heist

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forbelobog · 5 months

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Gepard has been good ? Sampo is fairly certain that his captain is always the good one between them two ( at least. ) ❝ Special delivery, just for you~ ❞ Comes the tease before a press of his lips to Gepard's. Not too demanding, but not the most gentle either. The Fool always wants a bit more than just simple, after all.

kissing sampo is never the same experience twice, something the captain has craved from the first time they did, if he were being honest. the memory is...a little embarrassing; he missed entirely, almost let nerves talk him out of trying for real but thankfully the mercenary wouldn't let him back down - if he was going to start something, he would see it through to the end. since then it has been a craving he can't quite get enough of. each time is a little different, but familiar in all the ways that mattered. a mix of comfort, intrigue, and a little danger, like captain is getting away with something. stealing the emanator's attention felt like a unique little treasure he could covet for himself.

it's just what he needed after a long day out in the freeze, tired body melting under sampo's touch. he barely had time to remove his coat, his gauntlet, before sampo decided he was due for a kiss. he sighs, content, when they pull apart. his gaze is almost dazed, lovesick and sweet.

"quite the present," he settles hands on sampo's hips, feeling the bare skin there from his ridiculous shirt, "could i have another?" // @dupliciti

#( ( answered #dupliciti #THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN' ABOUT #kisses #he deserves all the kisses

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joodlepo · 2 years

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Don't Get Caught / Hwang Hyunjin (18+)

Summary / The perfect vacation wouldn't exactly be complete without a little mischief, right? At least, Hyunjin thinks so. But, you might just have to see for yourself, won't you...?

Pairings / (Switch) Hwang Hyunjin + (F) Reader

Word Count / 5.2k

Warnings / Dirty Talk, Public Sex, Fingering, Creampie, Skinny-Dipping, Vanilla Sex, Fingering,

Skipping along the path of a forest stream, you couldn't stop a gentle grin from spreading across your face. The sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky and it seemed like spring had finally arrived after what felt like months of cold weather.

A warm breeze blew through the trees as they swayed gently back and forth with the morning light, filtering down on them, making everything seem fresh and new again. It almost made you want to run out into that beautiful sunshine, just for the sheer joy of being alive!

You were still dressed in the same clothes as yesterday, but thankfully there wasn't any sign of anyone around, so far at least. You'd been walking for about an hour now, and hadn't seen anything more than some birds flying overhead or squirrels scurrying up tree branches. But, even those things didn't bother you much today; the scenery all around you was too lovely to take seriously.

"Ah... this is great," You said aloud before letting out another long sigh as your smile faded slightly. "I can see why people love going outside..."

It's not like you hated nature, exactly – it just tended to get boring very quickly when you weren't doing something else. And since most places where you could go outdoors only really offered hiking trails and such, you generally avoided them unless you needed exercise. Even then, if given a choice between running laps on a treadmill and taking a walk somewhere nice, you always went for the latter option every time.

"Right~? I'd much rather be here than stuck inside." A voice came from behind you without warning.

Startled by its sudden appearance, you jumped a little bit, and spun around to look over your shoulder. Hyunjin was standing there, smiling innocently at you while he held his hands together in front of him. His eyes twinkling with amusement as he looked directly into yours. He wore a loose fitting shorts which left his muscular legs bare, and despite the fact that it was early spring, he had no coat or jacket either. Just his usual black leather boots, dark green shirt, and brown belt.

His hair was tied back tightly against his head with several small silver pins holding it away from his forehead and neck. It reminded you somewhat of how you usually styled your own hair, except that instead of the short ponytail, you kept tucked under your hat, Hyunjin's flowed freely past both shoulders. He appeared completely unbothered by your reaction though, continuing to watch you curiously until he spoke up once more. "It's kinda weird seeing someone who hates nature actually enjoying themselves, isn't it?"

"Well yeah... I mean, I don't hate nature per se..." You shrugged lightly, trying hard to ignore the way he was looking at you. "Just... well... walking around aimlessly doesn't really do much for me..."

Hyunjin gave a slight chuckle at that comment before giving his head a quick shake. "Don't worry, I'm pretty sure everyone has their preferences."

"Yeah..." You agreed weakly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

The two of you continued talking easily enough, chatting about various topics ranging from school to hobbies.

Despite having known each other for years, neither one of you ever got tired of hearing about the others life. After all, it was easy to talk to Hyunjin because he never judged you based on superficial qualities like looks or money, nor did he try to change you into someone different. In many ways, he was like an older brother figure for you; kind yet firm in his advice, and always ready to lend a helping hand whenever you needed it.

As you talked, however, you began to notice that your surroundings were changing subtly. Where there had originally been only grasslands and sparse trees, now the landscape gradually changed as you walked further inland. There were fewer shrubs growing alongside the stream now, replaced by taller plants with longer leaves and wider stems. Their pale yellow flowers stood out starkly amidst the lush greenery surrounding them.

They also seemed to have thicker trunks, and their roots stretched farther out below the soil's surface. At first glance, these plants looked similar to ones you would find near rivers or lakes, but upon closer inspection you noticed that they were quite distinctively different. Each plant grew differently, and there were even a few varieties which resembled trees in shape. One particular type of flower caught your eye, as it was unlike anything you had seen before.

"Hey, Hyunjin? What's this thing called again?" You asked, pointing towards the tall stalk sticking up above the rest of the foliage. Its stem was thick and sturdy, topped off by large clusters of tiny white blossoms.

"That's a lotus plant, I think," Hyunjin answered simply, reaching down to pluck one of the blooming petals from its stalk. He brought it up to his nose to smell it before turning to face you. "They're used mostly for medicinal purposes, especially during times of war."

Your mouth dropped open slightly at that, unable to hide your surprise. "Woah! So they heal wounds? Like, actual injuries?"

Hyunjin nodded slowly, tilting his head to the side as he watched you carefully. "Yep... and I've heard that some people use them in cooking too, although I haven't tried that myself. But yeah, apparently they taste good if prepared properly."

You smirk faintly at that. "Wow, so smart~!"

"Yeah, real charming, Y/N. Just save those crappy compliments for another time," Hyunjin teased playfully, waggling his eyebrows at you as he tossed the flower aside. "Anyway, we should probably keep moving so that we make it home before nightfall."

With another light laugh, the two of you turned around to resume walking, leaving the strange flora behind for now.

A few hours later, you sat across the table from Hyunjin in the cabin you've both rented out every year when visiting this place. It wasn't particularly fancy, just a simple wooden building set right beside the river where you could fish. As such, it didn't cost nearly as much as staying at one of the fancier hotels along the coast, but still provided you both with everything necessary for a comfortable stay.

For example, it had electricity, running water, a working toilet, and a bed big enough for three. Not to mention plenty of space outside to stretch your legs while taking in the scenery. And since you'd gotten here early, you had managed to get a private room to yourselves.

And speaking of scenery...

"You look good when you're cooking like that, you know?" You commented idly, sipping on a cup of coffee, watching him stir something in a pot over the fire.

"Didn't I say to save those compliments?" Hyunjin shot back teasingly, shaking his head as he stirred the stew he was preparing. The scent of meat and vegetables filled the air, making your stomach growl audibly.

"...Yeah, but it's true," You chuckled softly. "I can tell that you put effort into what you cook, and it shows."

"Oh please. Just 'cause I follow the recipe book doesn't mean I'm any good at cooking," Hyunjin scoffed, waving away your words dismissively. "Besides, who says I need to be amazing at it anyway? This is supposed to be a vacation after all, not a culinary competition."

"But isn't food meant to bring people together?" You countered. "It's a way to share experiences and create bonds between strangers. Isn't that part of why you come here?"

He paused, glancing sidelong at you curiously. "...Hm? And since when are you a stranger? Last time I checked, you're my annoying girlfriend, who keeps me awake half the night showering me with kisses~"

"G-Good point..." You mumbled weakly, blushing dark red as he smirked knowingly at you.

After a moment of silence, you cleared your throat awkwardly. "Sooo... how about you start serving us already then?"

The corner of Hyunjin's lips quirked upwards as he poured out two bowls full of steaming hot stew onto the plates laid out in front of you. You took yours eagerly, digging into the savory meal with relish. It tasted like heaven, the flavors blending perfectly together. As you ate, you found yourself staring dreamily at Hyunjin as he continued to serve himself, eating with a far more reserved demeanor than you did.

His cheeks flushed lightly whenever he caught your eyes, and you couldn't help but grin widely at each little interaction.

"It's delicious, but that's no surprise," You remarked casually, licking your fingers clean of the last bits of sauce clinging to them. "I just wish there was more though, I want seconds!"

Hyunjin chuckled softly at that. "Careful. You don't want a stomach ache tomorrow, do you?"

"No, of course not," You agreed quickly, raising an eyebrow at him. "Anyway, I think I'll hit the hay soon. See you in the morning?"

"Of course," Hyunjin replied easily, smiling warmly at you. "Nighty night..."

You smiled back at him, getting to your feet as you stood up. With a quick wave goodbye, you made your way upstairs towards the bedroom. After changing into pajamas and brushing your teeth, you crawled under the covers of the bed and waited patiently for sleep to take hold. Unfortunately, you weren't able to drift off quite as fast tonight. Instead, you were plagued by thoughts of Hyunjin, imagining him lying next to you in bed, snuggled close against you as he nuzzles his face into your neck.

Your heart raced with excitement, feeling flutters in the pit of your stomach as you imagined kissing those soft lips.

Eventually, however, your mind started to wander elsewhere, and eventually drifted off to sleep. Hours passed by without you realizing, until finally you woke up groggily due to the sunlight pouring through the windows. For some reason, you felt incredibly thirsty, so you decided to go downstairs to grab a glass of water before heading down to breakfast.

When you stepped out of the door, you immediately froze upon seeing the sight in front of you. There, standing tall amongst the trees surrounding the house was Hyunjin. He wore nothing but a pair of black swim trunks, his muscled chest on display as he leaned forwards slightly, stretching out his arms above his head. Even from this distance, you could see the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, making you blush bright pink at the thought of being exposed to such a view. You tried to turn around and walk away, trying desperately to hide your embarrassment, but he called out to you, causing your legs to freeze mid step.

"Morning, Y/N~!" Hyunjin greeted cheerfully. "Sleep well?"

Your cheeks burned even brighter now, turning beet red as you fidgeted nervously. "Y-Yes! Um, I slept very soundly actually."

"Mmhm, sounds good," Hyunjin hummed happily. "So, what do you want for breakfast today?"

For whatever reason, hearing him talk like that made you feel less embarrassed, probably because he sounded genuinely happy rather than mocking or condescending.

"Um, I'd like oatmeal if possible," You muttered quietly, looking down shyly. "With blueberries and honey, please."

Hyunjin nodded once, grinning broadly at you. "Gotcha!"

He turned around, walking over towards one of the tables outside where he grabbed several bowls along with a pot filled with oats, milk, sugar and various other ingredients. As he walked past you again, you couldn't help but stare at him, unable to stop yourself from doing it.

His bare shoulders were broad and strong, tapering down to a trim waist which tapered further to a set of toned thighs clad in tight black shorts. The muscles bulged underneath the fabric of his clothes, flexing ever so slightly with every movement he made. Every inch of him looked hard and defined, like a warrior ready to fight for their king.

And yet, a there was also more of a feminine part about him too. With a subtle curve to his hips, it gave him an almost hourglass figure when viewed straight on. And unlike most men, he had long hair tied behind his head in a ponytail, the silky strands falling freely to frame his face. This man is definitely attractive, you realized after watching him move gracefully across the yard, humming to himself as he prepared your food. But there's still something different between him and everyone else...

After finishing cooking your breakfast, Hyunjin came back over to you carrying two large bowls, placing one onto the table before taking another seat opposite you. You sat down gingerly, unsure whether you should eat first or simply sit here awkwardly while he did so.

In the end, you opted for the latter option.

"Here you are," Hyunjin announced, holding the spoon out towards you. "Eat up!"

You hesitantly took the bowl, staring down at the contents inside. It seemed to be mostly plain oats with only a few chunks of blueberries mixed in, topped off with small amounts of brown sugar and honey. However, there were also little bits of cinnamon sprinkled throughout the dish, adding just enough spice to make the taste more interesting.

It doesn't look bad, per se, though you would have preferred a bit stronger flavor. Still, it didn't seem that he'd poisoned you either, so maybe things wouldn't be all bad?

"Thanks," You said softly. "I'm sure I'll like it...."

"Good, then enjoy!" Hyunjin grinned brightly.

You gave him a smile in return, picking up the spoon and beginning to scoop up some of the oat mixture. When you brought it to your mouth, however, you paused. A sweet, fruity scent wafted from the food, causing your senses to come alive, making you salivate involuntarily. Your stomach grumbled loudly, demanding you feed it soon.

Slowly, you began eating, enjoying the light texture of the oatmeal against your tongue. The sweetness of the berries added a nice contrast to the savory flavors of the oats, making everything blend together into a wonderful symphony of tastes.

As you ate, you noticed Hyunjin watching you intently, his eyes glued to your lips as they moved. His gaze became increasingly intense as he watched you take bites of the meal, causing you to blush and avert your eyes.

"How does it taste?" Hyunjin asked suddenly.

"Oh, um..." You swallowed, forcing yourself to speak. "Very delicious! Thank you for preparing me something so tasty."

Hyunjin smiled warmly at your compliment. "Glad to hear it. Now hurry up and finish already, we need to get going soon."

When you finished, you stood up and helped clean up the dishes, washing them quickly by hand and stacking them neatly on top of each other.

Once done, you followed Hyunjin back outside, blinking as bright sunlight blinded your eyes. The day was surprisingly hot, beating down upon you mercilessly. Sweat dripped down your forehead, stinging as it fell into your eyes and ran its way through your lashes. Thankfully, Hyunjin had thought ahead and given you a towel, allowing you to wipe away the moisture without having to touch any part of your body.

"Alright, let's go!" Hyunjin declared cheerily, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the nearby lake.

"Wait, what?!" You exclaimed in surprise. "We're swimming now?"

"Yup!" He replied gleefully. "Come on! We don't wanna miss the fun~"

Your cheeks burned redder than usual as you stared at Hyunjin, dumbfounded. Still clutching your hands firmly in his own, he led you down the path towards the water, both of you stepping carefully until reaching the edge of the shoreline.

The forrest surrounding the area provided ample shade from the sun, meaning the heat wasn't quite so oppressive here compared to elsewhere within this forest. Even so, you could feel your skin begin to burn under the unrelenting rays. Suddenly, Hyunjin pulled you down onto the soft grass beside the lakeshore, letting you rest in the cool shade. As he settled next to you, you glanced around nervously at the trees above, wondering if anyone might see you.

"Uhm... are we even allowed to do this?" You asked timidly. "Aren't there rules about being naked outdoors?"

Hyunjin chuckled. "Nope, not really. This place isn't very popular anyway. No one will bother us unless they want to, which means no worries for you~"

His words made you relax somewhat, but you couldn't help feeling nervous nonetheless. After all, you weren't exactly accustomed to nudity, especially when others were involved. Still, it was too late to turn back now, so you forced yourself to calm down, reminding yourself that there wasn't anything wrong with showing off your body. And besides, you knew how handsome Hyunjin looked. Surely everyone else must realize that as well, right?

"... Alright then," You murmured quietly. "Let's just hope no one comes along who doesn't know how attractive you are..."

He laughed lightly at your comment. "Damn, again with the compliments? Keep that up and I may start thinking you're flirting with me or something..."

With those parting words, Hyunjin stripped out of his swim trunks and tossed them aside carelessly, before diving straight into the lake. The splashing sound caused you to jump slightly in surprise, but you managed to compose yourself quickly enough.

"H-Hey, wait for me!" You called after him, waving frantically. "Don't leave me behind!"

Hyunjin turned around to give you an amused grin, his long hair flowing freely across his shoulders. It seemed to glisten beautifully in the hot sunlight, catching your eye as he swam over to you. With a mischievous smirk, he reached forward and grabbed hold of your arm.

"Well? Are you coming in?" He teased gently.

Despite wanting nothing more than to stay where you were, you found yourself unable to refuse Hyunjin's request. Taking off your own clothes, you dived headfirst into the water, gasping loudly as cold liquid rushed past your ears. It took some time for you to adjust to the temperature of the water, but once you did, you started swimming alongside Hyunjin, giggling as the current pushed you forwards.

Soon, you began moving faster, kicking your legs rapidly beneath the surface of the water.

When you finally came up for air again, you gasped happily, wiping droplets of water from your face. But, your soon breath caught in your throat however, when you saw Hyunjin standing proudly back near the shoreline. He was still very much nude, his pale skin glowing brightly against the backdrop of the sun. His muscles rippled with every movement, making them look like smooth stone sculptures carved directly out of flesh. Each inch of his body was toned and defined, looking almost inhuman in their perfection.

You blushed hotly at the sight, staring wide eyed at the gorgeous man before you.

"Y/N, I can see you staring from here~! Stop ogling already!" Hyunjin shouted playfully, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Unable to respond, you merely swim back towards him, stopping only when you were close enough to reach out and take hold of his wrist. When you did, Hyunjin gave you another teasing smile, his fingers curving around yours. He then slowly pulled you out of the water, helping you stand up on the ground.

Your naked form shivered slightly in the hot weather, causing you to cling tightly to Hyunjin's shoulder. Thankfully, the wetness between your thighs had been cooled by the water, so the sensation felt pleasant rather than uncomfortable. As soon as you stood upright though, Hyunjin let go of your hand. Instead, grabbing you roughly and pulling you flush against his chest. One of his arms wrapped itself possessively around your waist, holding you securely while the other slid down to cup your ass, squeezing it firmly.

"See? Skinny dipping is fun, isn't it?" Hyunjin smirked smugly.

"Mngh..." You grunted softly, biting your lip. "Y-Yeah."

There was certainly truth to what he said; skinny dipping was indeed fun. But perhaps because you'd never done it before, the experience also felt different somehow. A part of you still wanted to be modest, despite knowing full well that nobody could possibly see you through the trees surrounding the lakeshore.

The thought alone left you feeling embarrassed, prompting you to lean away from Hyunjin's touch. However, the moment you moved, he tightened his grip and brought his lips down onto yours.

"Aww, don't worry~" Hyunjin cooed softly, nuzzling your cheek affectionately. "No one can see us... We're safe."

Before you could object, Hyunjin kissed you again, but more deeply this time. At first, your mind reeled with confusion and shock – until suddenly, everything melted away. All thoughts vanished as your body grew tingly, melting together under his kiss. Every nerve ending in your body became alive and responsive, sending delicious warmth throughout your entire being. And all the while, Hyunjin continued to press his naked body closer and tighter against you, deepening the passionate kiss even further. As if sensing this, you moaned softly into his mouth, wrapping your own hands around his neck.

His tongue slipped inside your parted lips, tasting sweet and tangy on your tongue. The sensation made your knees grow weak, causing you to stumble backwards slightly. Hyunjin didn't stop kissing you, instead guiding you deeper into the shade of the tree beside him. There, he pressed you up against a large boulder, pinning both of your wrists above your head.

Without hesitation, he leaned down and captured your lips yet again. This time however, the kiss went much longer, lasting several minutes before finally coming to an end.

Breathless, you looked up into his eyes. They shone brilliantly in the morning light, sparkling like diamonds. For the briefest of moments, you wondered how anyone could ever get tired of such beauty. Suddenly, Hyunjin shifted his gaze downwards. His expression darkened considerably, taking on a predatory quality unlike anything else. Your breasts bounced lightly against the calming breeze, giving him ample opportunity to stare hungrily at your cleavage.

"Those look really nice..." Hyunjin mused quietly, reaching up to grab your right breast.

With surprising strength, he lifted your boob upwards, pressing its softness against his large palm. It was hard to tell due to the lack of clothing, but judging by the way his hand squeezed and groped, it seemed like your nipple was getting quite aroused too.

"Ahhh..." You whimpered, squirming slightly as he fondled your sensitive tit.

Hyunjin grinned darkly at this reaction, shifting his attention to your other side. He grabbed your left breast just as forcefully, squeezing it roughly in his strong fist. With each passing second, more moisture began seeping from your sex.

"Hmhm... So cute," Hyunjin murmured approvingly, stroking his thumb across your erect nipple. "I'm glad we came out here today~"

"M-Me too..." You replied breathlessly.

He smiled knowingly, before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. Despite having seen it plenty of times prior, watching, him suckle on your breast sent delightful sensations coursing through your veins. To make things worse, his plush lips were coated with saliva, making them slippery and smooth.

You groaned loudly, arching your back as his talented tongue swirled around the tip. In response, Hyunjin sucked harder, drawing more liquid from within. Soon, your whole breast was glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration, which he lapped up eagerly.

After sucking for another minute or two, Hyunjin released your from his warm cavern, licking his lips clean. Then, he reached down to slide his fingers along your inner thigh. Before you knew what was happening, he pushed two long digits inside your dripping slit.

"Nng!" You cried out involuntarily, jerking forwards slightly. "Guh... Ahh..."

It took some effort not to moan audibly, especially when he started moving his fingers slowly. Your hips buckled instinctively, forcing him to hold your legs apart. However, he kept thrusting his finger in and out without pause, allowing you little chance to recover. Within seconds, your breathing had grown ragged once again, only adding to the pleasure building deep within your core.

"W-Wait! I'm gonna c-cum soon!" You gasped, struggling beneath his weight.

But rather than stopping, Hyunjin simply gripped your waist tightly, holding you steady. That wasn't enough to deter him though – after all, you couldn't exactly run away now. Instead, he merely increased the speed of his movements, driving his thick digit into your needy pussy over and over again. As always, your climax hit you almost instantly, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through every inch of your body. Each successive wave of bliss caused your muscles to spasm uncontrollably, leaving you unable to move.

And despite that, Hyunjin still relentlessly pounded his finger into your wet depths. Until finally, he felt something stir within you. A warm pressure built up quickly, growing larger and hotter with each passing moment. Just as you thought it might burst forth, he withdrew his slickened digits from between your thighs. The sight alone was enough to send waves of arousal rushing through your loins.

"Geez, did you cum already?" Hyunjin chuckled, looking down at your flushed face.

The sudden shift in mood made your cheeks flush bright red, prompting you to stammer: "...Y-Yes."

"Oh good, because I'd be seriously insulted if you hadn't," He smirked, releasing your wrists from above your head. "Now then, since we're both horny right now, should I take the lead? Or do you want me to go first?"

Hyunjin words set off an unexpected chain of events. What started as a simple question suddenly became so much more; and with no time to think about it, you answered with very few words.

"L-Let me..."

Without even realizing it yourself, your voice grew hoarse as you spoke those two syllables. Not waiting for any further explanation, Hyunjin quickly spread himself open wide, revealing his swollen cockhead. As expected, he was completely engorged and leaking copious amounts of precum onto the grass below.

"Mn... Looks like you really are turned on, aren't you?" You whispered softly, reaching out towards him.

His shaft twitched upon hearing your comment, causing droplets of clear fluid to splatter on the ground. His eyes widened briefly, before returning their focus to yours. They burned with desire, urging you to continue.

"Duh~" Hyunjin said playfully, pushing your hands aside. "But, if you gonna dominate me, do it by fucking my brains out. Not playing with my dick, Y/N..."

Your cheeks reddened, but you nodded anyway. After all, there was no point denying your desires anymore. It wouldn't change anything either way. All that mattered was how far you could push things, until they inevitably collapsed under their own weight...

And so, your trembling hand grasped Hyunjin's pulsating length firmly in place.

With a soft gasp, you place yourself atop him, straddling his lap. His large frame swallowed you easily, leaving just enough space between you that you didn't feel suffocated. But more importantly, he fit perfectly against your crotch, providing ample friction while also keeping you close. With that done, you leaned forward slightly, planting your palms on his chest. From here, you were able to control your motions, guiding Hyunjin deeper into your welcoming folds. Though the angle was awkward, you managed to find your rhythm fairly quickly, pumping him gently inside of you.

"...How's that?" You asked breathlessly, staring intently at his handsome features.

"It's passable, but don't expect too m-much," He replied with a smirk, clearly enjoying this new role reversal. "You can do better than that, Y/N..."

Despite his teasing words, his expression remained serious throughout. In fact, his gaze seemed to burn with lust, making you wonder why he wanted to talk at all. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea after all, seeing as how he had yet to fully give in to his baser instincts.

That being said, you couldn't deny that your pace was slow. Sooner or later, Hyunjin would get tired of watching. And once that happened, he'd probably make some excuse to end this little game. Then again, maybe not. If you played your cards right, you might actually coax him into letting loose. That is, assuming you knew what you were doing. Deciding to test your hypothesis, you slowed down ever so slightly, eliciting a sharp grunt from Hyunjin.

However, rather than chastising you for failing, he simply continued moving his hips back and forth beneath you. This allowed you to regain your footing, allowing you to move faster without having to worry about slipping.

As the tempo increased, Hyunjin's breathing quickened alongside yours. Each thrust sent ripples radiating outward across your sensitive flesh, only heightening the sensations coursing through your body. Meanwhile, Hyunjin let out several lewd grunts every few seconds, adding another layer of heat to the situation.

"S-Shit, I can't take this much longer!" Hyunjin cried out loudly, his voice echoing throughout the forest.

Those last few words gave you pause for thought. While you weren't sure if he meant them literally, there was no harm in trying to oblige. Thus, you shifted your position slightly, tilting your pelvis upwards. The result was immediate, as Hyunjin bucked wildly beneath you, slamming his hips up and down in a desperate attempt to reach release.

However, despite his efforts, it soon became obvious that he wasn't going to achieve orgasm anytime soon. At least, not unless you took matters into your own hands. So, with renewed vigor, you sped up your movements, pounding Hyunjin's thick rod into your slick depths. By now, both of your bodies were coated in sweat, which only served to increase the intensity.

After several minutes of hard work, you felt Hyunjin begin to tense up.

A moment later, he released a loud cry of ecstasy, shooting rope after rope deep within your tight pussy. Your insides clenched tightly around him each time his hot load gushed inside, causing your muscles to spasm uncontrollably. The pleasure was almost too intense, prompting you to stop moving altogether. Instead, you clung desperately onto his broad shoulders, burying your face against the side of his neck. There, you closed your eyes and savored the sensation coursing through your entire body. Even when his climax subsided, you stayed buried in his lap, prolonging the experience as long as possible.

Eventually though, reality caught up with you, forcing you to pull away from Hyunjin's sweaty form.

"Mmph." Hyunjin groaned softly, catching his breath.

"Too much? Sorry, I'll try to be gentler next time," You apologized sheepishly, earning an amused chuckle from Hyunjin.

"Nah, I'm fine, really," He reassured you with a wink before leaning over to plant a kiss upon your lips. "But I think we should head back now, don't you think?"

"Y-Yeah, I guess so..." You murmured quietly, glancing toward the sky.

It looked like it would start raining any minute now, meaning that you needed to hurry along. You stood up and offered a hand to Hyunjin, which he gladly accepted, rising slowly to his feet. Standing upright, he turned to look at you, taking a good measure of your flushed cheeks and swollen thighs. After giving you one more lingering glance, he then proceeded to walk ahead of you.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x reader

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused (S1: 2/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild langage

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: After Steve spends the night at Y/N Jonathan Byers accuses Y/N of getting too close to her best friend’s boyfriend

Masterlist

I wake up to a banging on my door. It sounds like an uncontrollable jackhammer.

“Y/N! Oh Princess Y/N!” My mom screeches on the other side. “Wake up! You have to pick up Dustin in thirty minutes!”

The last bit grabs my attention. My eyes fly open and I attempt to sit up but I’m pinned down. My head whips to the side and Steve is sound asleep next to me. His arm is draped across my stomach keeping me pinned. In a rush, I shove him off of me and fly out of bed. Steve wakes up abruptly and falls off the mattress onto the floor with a thud.

“Shit!” He blurts out.

“What was that?” My mom asks worriedly.

Wide-eyed, I stare down Steve who peers up at me from the floor.

“I’m just getting ready! I’ll be out in five!” I shout to my little brother.

Thankfully, I hear him patter off as he grumbles various curse words under his breath.

I must look like a crazy lady as I run around my room getting ready. My hair is going in a ponytail today because there’s no way I have time to style it. Steve moves about me, collecting his things. It’s Friday so that makes picking out an outfit rather easy. It’s game day, so cheer uniform. I start changing from my pajamas into my cheer uniform. I hop on one leg as I remove my shorts and rush to grab my skirt off my dresser. As I slip off my t-shirt and change into my vest, I check my appearance in the mirror on my dresser.

Behind me, Steve eyes me curiously. He appears in some sort of wide-eyed daze.

I whip my head around to check on him. “You okay?”

He hums absentmindedly. Then, he shakes his head repeatedly to snap how of it. “Yeah! Uh… it’s just… um… you…” he stammers, “uh…. Nevermind! I’ll see you in a little bit,” he says as he goes to climb out of my window.

“Okay? Catch ya later.” I laugh, wondering why he’s acting so odd.

He’s such a goofball. I wonder if it’s because I freaked him out when I woke him up. Oh well, he scared me last night so karma.

________________________________________

Once we arrive at school, Dustin runs off to join the boys who have all agreed to dress as the Ghostbusters for school. Since the Demogorgon incident, Dustin and I have grown closer. We live on the same block and being only children help.

Nancy isn’t at her locker when I arrive at my own, odd. What’s even weirder is Jonathan is waiting for me.

“Hey,” I greet him with a raised brow.

It’s not that I dislike Jonathan, we’re simply not close friends. Sure, we had a bonding experience last year but he and I are very different people.

“Hey,” he stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. “Have you… uh… have you seen Nancy?”

Interesting, Byers looking for Nancy. If this were any other day she would be here beside me and I wouldn’t be standing here with Jonathan but apparently, today isn’t going to be average.

“Nope, I haven’t. I was wondering where she is myself. Usually, she’d be here by now,” I fill him in on the lastest as I put the combination into my locker.

“Well if you see here will you tell her I have something for her?” He requests.

“Is it your love confession?” I tease.

“Huh?” He acts oblivious to what I mean.

“Oh please, it’s clear as day you have a thing for Nance," I snicker as I pull out my books. "I’ve known since Steve and I showed up at your house last year.” I glance over my shoulder at him and it’s evident I’ve spooked him. My bluntness tends to have that effect on people. "Look,” I say gently and quietly between us. “I won’t say anything. I understand that she’s with Steve. So, you feel like there’s no point but it’s important to say how you feel and be honest.”

"Just like how you’re honest with Steve about having a thing for him?” He boldly fires back.

I scoff, he’s delusional! Me and Steve, really? There’s no way! I laugh, “I don’t have a-”

“Really? Yesterday in the gym?” He challenges.

His question, more like a threat, takes me by surprise. What, so Jonathan is watching me now? He’s eavesdropping on my conversations?

“How about over the summer?” He presses further, stepping closer until he towers over me. “You two were together more than he and Nancy ever were! How about this morning when I was on my way to school and saw him climbing out of your window? Hm? How about that?”

Okay, now I’m just getting pissed. “I can assure you, Steve loves Nancy!” I growl. “There’s is nothing, and I mean nothing, between us! Now I suggest you stop acting like a tough guy before I remind you who really holds all the power here,” I threaten him.

He forgets that I’m the captain of the cheer squad. I’m adored around here. He’s some punk who hangs out all day in the photography classroom. If he really wishes to test me, I can promise I will win. I always win.

“Fine then…” he mutters, mere inches from my face. “But remember, I could easily tell Nancy about last summer.”

He steps back with narrowed eyes locked on me until he turns around to slip away. I watch, stunned, as he disappears into the cluster of students traveling about the hall. A bit disturbed, to say the least, I lean back against the lockers to catch my breath.

I don’t like Steve, that’s crazy! Steve… Steve and I… we’re just friends, really good friends, best of friends! Jonathan is psychotic and tossing out random ideas to get a rise out of me. All we did was hang out over the summer! He was already dating Nancy, my oldest friend! I would never ever betray her like that! Screw Byers.

________________________

After last period, I return to my locker to pack up my homework. As I’m packing up my stuff, Nancy pops up next to me all distraught. She’s shaky and appears frightened, the same way she did when fighting the Demogorgon.

“Nance? Nancy, what’s wrong? What happened?” I ask her repeatedly, already worried.

She scans the area, making sure no one is watching us. Swiftly, she pulls into the girls bathroom.

I stumble inside, immediately checking the stalls to make sure we’re alone. Once I determine the coast is clear, I spin around to face her.

Her arms are wrapped around her tightly like a blanket. She swallows hard, her glazed eyes meet mine in fear. “I saw Barb!” She whispers as though she’ll be struck for doing so.

That’s impossible. We left Barb in the Upside Down. She’s gone. She’s dead.

“You what?” I shake my head in disbelief, pacing away from her.

“In the library!” She explains, "I saw her! She called out for us! She said this wasn’t me! She said you were hiding! Pretending!”

Now frightened, I whip my head around to face her directly. I note the hint of hope in her eyes that’s overpowered by guilt. I mourned Barb. We all did. I’m sorry for her parents, I am truly, but everyone is right! There’s nothing we can do! What’s done is done! All we can do is move on and live our lives!

I refuse to relive the endless guilt, depression, and anxiety that consumed me for months on end. I felt like a shell of a human for almost a year after what happened. I can’t do this.

“I have to go to drive Dustin home,” I announce.

Quickly, I cross the room toward the door. I have to get out of here. This is nonsense.

Nancy grabs my wrist before I pass her, “But Y/N-”

I yank my arm free from her grip, “goodbye Nancy!”

Shaken for the second time today, I storm out of the bathroom and hurry toward the exit. I grip the handle of my purse, unable to control my shaky hands. Tears coat my eyes and threaten to slip down my cheeks.

Flashbacks of that horrid night take over my train of thought. I see it clear as day. All of the blood, the sting from my arm, the pressure of that monster pinning me down. Everything I’ve been suppressing demands to be felt again. I’m living in my own personal Hell.

As I push through the doors to the parking lot, the bright sunlight blinds me for a second. People cluster outside the school in their cliques. I weave between them, eager to get to my car and fly home. I can’t allow anyone to see me like this. I’m the strong one. I have my life together. I can’t break.

In the distance, Dustin leans against the passenger door waiting for me. I keep telling myself that I’m almost there, just a couple of steps more.

“Y/N-” Someone grabs my shoulder to stop me.

Caught off guard and already distraught, I gasp and my bag slips from my shoulder to the pavement.

I peer up to see Steve eyeing me with such compassion that I nearly slip and start sobbing. I wish I could tell him everything zooming through my mind but I can’t, it’s not his burden to bear.

Urgently, he gathers my bag off the ground and places it on my shoulder. His hand lingers on my forearm, rubbing up and down comfortingly. I attempt to hide my shakiness by crossing my arms tightly.

“You’re upset,” he states the obvious but I know he means well. “Are you alright?”

I hum, nodding my head repeatedly. If I attempt to speak my voice may crack and then he’ll never let me go. Please Steve, I understand that you’re checking on me and I know you truly care but please let me go.

“What is it?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he shifts on his heels. “Is it about Nancy? She was speaking about Barb earlier. Did she confront you about it? If it is I-”

“Y/N!” Dustin shouts over to us impatiently.

For once, I won’t argue with him about interrupting me. “I have to go,” I mumble under my breath and rush off before Steve has the chance to object.

Once I’m a few feet away from Dustin, he notices my state and instantly climbs into the car without any questions.

After I toss my bag into the backseat and move up front, I take a moment to gather myself and blast some music before I start driving.

“Shitty day?” Dustin finally breaks the silence.

Rubbing my temples, I snicker, “to put it simply.”

He sighs, “Yeah, me too. First, all of the little assholes at school decide not to dress up this year. My guess is they all formed a pact and kept us out of it. It was all pretty embarrassing. Then, there’s this new girl, Max, smoking’ hot, but thinks she’s cooler than everyone else. Lucas likes her too… We followed her around for a little bit but then… well shit… she was onto us. Do you wanna talk about your day?” He offers to listen.

I shake my head and open my eyes. Exhaling deeply, I grip the wheel and prepare to go. “No, because if I do then it will lead down a dark road that I don’t wish to travel ever again.”

Dustin respects my silence and he talks most of the way home. I appreciate him not forcing me to speak about the horrors of today. Right now, I much rather listen and be distracted. Today was one of the worst days I’ve had in a while. At least tonight is the party. I could really use some mindless fun, risky shenanigans, and most importantly, booze.

________________________________

Masterlist

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things image #stranger things

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cazimagines · 3 years

Text

Let me treat you (ZemoxTransReader) (Ftm)

Request from Anon: Zemo x Reader where they start to fall in love, but the reader gets hurt super badly in the stomach and Zemo has to like examine the wound. The reader keeps pushing them away bc they’re trans (ftm) and wear a blinder and they’re afraid that Zemo won’t like them anymore

Word count: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Mentions of guns and blood, slight angst, mainly hurt and comfort

Please don't upload this anywhere else

This is being cross posted on my ao3 account under the same name

Authors note: I hope this lives up to your expectations. I’m happy to get requests for one shots as people have such unique ideas like this.

Your back pressed against the wall as you glanced around the corner, waiting for the right moment to shoot. You could see down the road the figure of three men with guns pulled around ready to shoot if you ran past. You had to get them by surprise. Sam, Bucky and Zemo had all split up from you so you were on your own as you tried to work yourself back to them. You clutched the gun in your hands as you counted the moments down.

3...

2...

1...

Your legs moved quickly as you ran across holding the gun and pressing the trigger randomly. Your eyes were focused on the hiding spot ahead. Without stopping to see if you had hit them or not, you disappeared down the next road. Feeling your heart beat heavily against your chest you slowed down, gasping for breath. Your chest hurt from needing to breathe and your binder clung tightly to you, making you gasp for more air. Your hand grasped onto the wall beside you, supporting you as you learnt over to recover.

Footstep sounds rang in your ears, coming from behind you. You quickly spun around, aiming your gun at the person behind you. Your eyes were blurred with tears from your lack of breath but as they focused, you lowered your gun realising it was Bucky who was jogging up to you.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Bucky asked, taking in your worn out appearance.

“Yeah, just” you pant, stopping every few words to breathe, “Catching my breath, that’s all”

Bucky puts his hand on your arm gently pulling you down the road, “Sam and Zemo are ahead of us with the rest of the enemies. They need all the help they can get”

You nod, picking up speed at the thought of Zemo defending off everyone. You weren’t with the Avengers when the civil war had happened, so all you knew about Zemo was from what everyone had told you about. Specifically Bucky, who hated Zemo and with good reason. You pictured him as a man who was psychopathic, with an icy glare and fierce eyes, yet all the time you have spent with him was completely different. Dare you say it he was kind, funny, thoughtful. He gave everyone food, clothes, a place to stay. Yes, it was for his own advantage as well, but you couldn’t help but feel part of it was because he wanted you all to be okay. You enjoyed conversations with him as well, you always had a fondness for learning languages. Zemo indulged your interests. In the spare time you had together, he had taught you Sokovian his mother language. You were picking it up quickly, much to his surprise and Bucky & Sam’s annoyance when you two have your own conversation, which they can’t understand. At the safe home you were staying at, it had a massive library. One night you had asked Zemo to read you a book. Sitting opposite him on an armchair, you closed your eyes as you listened to his sweet Sokovian voice slowly lull you to sleep. The next day you had awoken somehow on the sofa with his coat draped around you. You had been too embarrassed to bring up that evening with him, and it seemed the same way for Zemo who hadn’t mentioned it again after.

You and Bucky jogged around a corner to see Sam and Zemo hiding behind a wall. As you caught up with them, their eyes flicked to you and Bucky. Zemo turns to you and briefly nods. His hair was slightly messy, stands fell over his forehead not in their usual position pulled back by hair gel. His chest heaved slightly as well, and his hand clutched the gun harshly. “Five men, ahead” he mutters

“Nice of you to join us” Sam says sarcastically, his mouth tugging up in a slight smile as he looked at you and Bucky.

Bucky shot him a dirty look while you focused on the five men ahead. They knew Zemo and Sam were there, but they didn’t know about you and Bucky, meaning you could take them by surprise. Bucky counted, making you all ready for the attack. You could feel a sweat bead drip down your forehead in anticipation.

“GO” Bucky shouts as you grab onto the top of the wall, pulling your body over and starting shooting instantaneously.

But then you felt something hit you. On your right side, just under your chest.

A yelp of surprise tore out of your throat, which quickly turned into pain as your body tensed up from the shock. The pain felt immense and spread throughout your body quickly. Your nerves feeling as if they had been lit on fire. Your legs gave out, and you watched as you slowly tumbled down onto the ground, but before you could reach the floor, you felt a body push into the side of you. It pushed you down and covered your exposed side with itself. The smell of cologne overwhelmed you, and you could feel his champaign stained breath on your face. His fur part of his coat tickled your face slightly. Zemo placed his arm beside your face to prop him up just above you as he used his other arm to shoot at the opposition.

With Bucky, Zemo and Sam all shooting at them, all the enemies eventually ran away. Zemo’s head turned to focus on you. His eyes were glazed with worry and his eyebrows furrowed as he focused on the blood that was leaking through your shirt. If it was any other time, you would have been blushing like mad. But you were trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall from your eyes because of the pain. You bit your bottom lip, slightly drawing blood as you stopped yourself from crying out.

“We need to get him back to the house,” Zemo tells Bucky and Sam urgently. He wraps his arm around your back, pulling you up onto your feet. He and Bucky have you wrap your arms around their shoulders and support you as they quickly rush you home. His hand presses on the wound to hold the blood in. You tried to stop him from staining his glove with your blood, but he refuses to listen.

Thankfully, the house wasn’t too far away from where you had been fighting, so you arrived there in no time. They carried you in and laid you on the sofa just inside the door.

“I need you two to rush to the shop and grab some bandages and antiseptic wipes. We don’t have any here” Zemo orders Sam and Bucky. They eyed each other, shocked at Zemo taking innovative for once but they don’t argue back and head towards the door. Bucky glances back as he reaches the door and you nod to him, letting him know you were okay with being left with Zemo. Zemo notices the exchange but just bites his tongue, choosing not to comment on it.

“I need you to take your shirt off,” Zemo says, refusing to meet your eyes as he tugs his gloves off. Your eyes widen and you shake your head at him.

“No, I- I can’t,”

Zemo glances back to you frowning, “What? I need to check the wound y/n and put a bandage on it”

“I-I can do it, or maybe Bucky can,” you say, looking away from Zemo.

You hadn’t told Zemo you were trans. Bucky and Sam knew. They had known you for a long time, but you never really told Zemo and the thought of telling him scared you silly. You didn’t know how he would react. You liked him; you liked him a lot though you shouldn’t, and you didn’t want to ruin it by telling him and him reacting badly.

Zemo’s face hardened as he heard your words, and his eyes dropped from yours. “You don’t trust me” he states

“No Zemo that’s not-” you try to say but Zemo cuts you off,

“No, it’s okay Y/n, I understand. I’m not a good guy, we all know this. Why would you even give me a sliver of your trust? I don’t deserve it.”

“Zemo…”

“I was a fool to think of you any differently”

You tried to sit up to move towards him but you felt a shock wave of pain as you moved your wound making you cry out and collapse back into the sofa. Zemo was instantly by your side, kneeling down, his eyes full of worry. He grabs a hold of your hand and clenches it tightly to help with the pain.

“Don’t move. At least do that for me y/n”

The doors slam open with Sam and Bucky rushing in, “They’ve followed us here. Me and Bucky will keep them away while you treat his wound” Sam says pushing the medical equipment into Zemo’s hands.

“Wait-” Zemo tried to say, letting go of your hand to grab one of them but they had already left the building again.

He glances down at the stuff in his hands, then back up to you.

“Seems like you have little of a choice”

“I can attend to my wound”

Zemo’s jaw tenses and his eyes flash with anger as he looks at you, “Do you really hate me that much?”

“No, that’s not it, Zemo,” you exclaim

“Then why! Why are you so determined to refuse my help y/n,” Zemo says raising his voice

You look away from him in shame, and he stands up, groaning. He brushes his hands through his hair angrily as he paces around. He split off his coat and chucked it angrily onto the chair beside you, making you flinch slightly. You watched him walk around, though you are upset and in pain you couldn’t help focus on how good Zemo looked in that purple turtleneck.

“I like you y/n” he finally says, turning to look at you. Your throat runs dry and your eyes widen in surprise as those words slip out of his mouth and nestle deep in your heart.

“You are intelligent, funny, handsome. Everything you do I adore. Who you are, I adore. And I never thought that I would love someone after my wife, especially a guy. I’ve never felt this way about a guy before and it scares me, but I love you y/n. And I know you don’t like me back but please let me treat your wound, you are bleeding out and I don’t want to see you in pain”

You were left speechless at Zemo’s confession. Your heart swelled and beat rapidly against your chest, but your throat was dry like the Sahara Desert. With the more time gap between where you say anything, Zemo stares to get palier thinking he has fucked up.

“Zemo...you idiot, of course I like you!” you finally exclaim

He moves his mouth wordlessly, looking intently in your eyes as if trying to see if you were lying, but slowly the realisation breaks over him. His mouth turns up in a smile, but then something crosses his eyes and he frowns at you again.

“But then why don’t you want me to help you?”

You take in a deep breath and finally tell him, “Take my shirt off”

He cautiously walks up to, unsure of what to make of the situation. You feel his fingers gently brush against your skin, making you shudder. He slowly lifts the shirt off, careful to make sure it doesn't stick to the wound. As he lifts it off, your binder becomes plain to see.

His mouth opens slightly as he takes it in, then gazes at you in the eyes.

“Oh y/n, I don’t care about that. I like you for who you are”

“Really?” you question still worried.

His lips turn up into a slight smile as he looks down on you, he reaches forward gently brushing his hand against your face. You lean into it, closing your eyes slightly as you enjoy the contact.

“Really”

You grin happily at him, making him smile back as he sees how happy you are. He gathers the bandages and wipes and attends to your wound as you relax, enjoying the feeling of the man you love and loves you back, treats you.

Taglist: @multiyfandomgirl40 @ineffablebean @freyjasamael @avgravy @jayxkelsi (Not sure why it won't let me tag you) @huntheimpossible @checkurwindow @there-goes-thefighter @bunniwritesx @montypythonsholysnail

#zemo #zemo x reader #baron zemo #zemo x y/n #zemo imagine #zemo x you #tfatws #daniel brühl #marvel #mcu #helmut zemo #i love zemo

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caffeinatedbraincell · 3 years

Note

So you asked about prompts? ;D What about Joe/Nicky + any team member cuddling for warmth? Or something about all of them sharing clothes? Huge bonus if Lykon is still part of the Guard ❤️❤️❤️

Thank you anon for the ask!! 💕 This took forever but here it is~

Read on AO3

“Whose idea was this, again?” Joe complained, readjusting the weight of the front half of the giant plastic evergreen. He was sweating and freezing at the same time, which was decidedly one of his least favorite feelings ever.

“Yeah, I wonder,” Quynh seconded from behind him, throwing Andy a dirty look.

Andy sauntered hands-free in front of them, talking animatedly with Nicky and Lykon as they walked. The three of them clearly loved the snow, though Joe doubted they would be having even half as much fun if they had to carry the tree.

Quynh spat out some plastic pine needles. “Andromache! It’s your turn to carry this, come here!”

“Pleeease babe, we’re almost home!”

“Yeah,” Nicky interjected. “Besides, we have to carry the presents!” He waved the small, sparkly gift bag at them before pointedly turning back around.

Joe muttered something in Arabic about lazy spouses with nice asses, and Quynh cackled.

“Alright, alright,” Lykon interjected, jumping in front to get everyone’s attention. “Booker just texted me that he’s managed to get Nile out of the house under the pretext of, and I quote, ‘the snowball duel of the century.’ They’re going to the mountain pass, so we have two hours to get set up.”

“Perfetto,” Nicky said. “It’ll take me about twenty minutes to get the cookies in the oven, and then I’ll help decorate the tree.”

“You better get out in less than twenty,” Quynh warned. “When am I supposed to work? Do you even know how long it takes to cook chicken?”

“He doesn’t,” Joe confirmed.

“Habibi, that’s not fair. What about that time I made-”

A long, ominous buzz innervated all of their phones simultaneously. It was an emergency weather alert.

“Blizzard warning until 2:15 AM. All inner city residents are encouraged to shelter in place until further notice. Sudden snowfall and landslides may prove deadly,” Nicky read.

“Lykon, text Booker,” Andy ordered.

“On it.”

“No use,” Nicky cut in. “They’re probably already at the mountain pass. They won’t make it back in time.”

Andy swore loudly. “Joe, get the car. We’re going after them.”

Quynh and Joe dropped the tree and ran towards the house. By the time Joe started the car, Quynh was climbing down the porch steps with an armful of towels. The five of them piled into the car and tore down the icy roads.

The storm picked up with terrifying haste. When they got to the bridge near the mountain pass, visibility was already nearing zero. Joe switched places with Andy, clambering into the passenger seat so she could take the wheel. If anything could help them now, it was Andy’s extensive experience with driving in extreme weather conditions.

As they traveled through the pass, everyone kept their eyes trained on the snowy slopes, looking for any signs of Nile and Booker.

Suddenly, Lykon cried out in horror. Only a few feet away from the road were two motionless bodies, almost fully buried in a snow drift.

“Cazzo!” Nicky yelled, leaping out of the car. “There must have been an avalanche!”

Andy shoved the gearshift into parking and followed, joining the others as they attempted to dig out their friends with their bare hands. About two minutes after the frostbite set in, they were able to pull Nile and Booker free of the drift.

“Why aren’t they waking up?” Lykon asked, a tinge of panic in his voice. Andy rubbed Nile’s wrist as she looked at her watch, attempting to measure a pulse. Nicky tried to do the same for Booker, unconsciously chanting a Hail Mary under his breath.

Quynh stepped forward. “We need to get them back to the car. The heater will warm them up and help dry them off. Come on.”

Joe picked up Nile in his arms, cradling her head. Quynh threw Booker over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. This time, they noticed neither the weight nor the cold. Their entire focus was on getting their friends home to warmth and safety.

“Joe, your coat,” Andy said as they got to the car. “It’s fleece. Take Nile’s ski jacket off and give her yours.”

Joe obeyed without hesitation, bundling her in his own winter gear and buckling her into the back seat. Meanwhile, Quynh and Nicky used the towels to dry off Booker’s snow coat as best as they could. Lykon climbed into the passenger seat, and Andy began to drive.

Thankfully, the storm didn’t get worse on their way back (though Joe seriously doubted it could get worse). By the time Andy pulled into their driveway, Nile and Booker were beginning to stir.

“Hey, easy now,” Lykon soothed, helping a dazed Booker out of the car. “Let’s get you inside. There we go, you’re okay. Just a little farther.”

Behind them, Nile leaned heavily on Quynh as she half-carried her up the porch steps. Joe paused, watching them enter.

“All okay?” Andy asked, placing a hand on his shoulder as the wind whipped the snow around them.

“The tree…” Joe muttered, fazed. “I dropped it somewhere. We were going to surprise Nile, and I-”

Andy turned him gently to face her, pulling his woolen beanie down to cover his ears.

“It’s alright, love,” she said softly, switching to Arabic. “She needs a different kind of comfort from us now. She and Booker both. Let’s go take care of them, okay?”

Joe nodded, following her into the warmth of their home.

A fire blazed happily in the hearth. Someone had expanded their futon and pulled it closer to the fireplace. Nile and Booker were seated on it now, wearing large, clean sweatpants - Nicky’s sweatpants, Joe noticed - and fuzzy Christmas sweaters. Quynh and Lykon were snuggled up on either side of them, feeding them something from a thermos flask and adjusting the heated blankets.

“Room for two more?” Andy grinned, curling up next to Quynh and gesturing at Joe to sit. “What’s that?” Joe asked, sliding under Lykon’s side of the blanket and pointing at the steaming drink in the thermos.

“I made apple cider earlier and left it in the instant pot,” Lykon replied. “It was still hot.”

Lykon held the drink to Nile’s lips. She took a large sip, sighing happily. Joe made a mental note to pour himself some cider if he ever got out from under this heated blanket.

Just then, Nicky walked out of the kitchen, balancing a large tray in his hands. “Soup time! Everyone sit up, let’s eat.”

Joe blinked, wondering how his husband had had the presence of mind to immediately go into the kitchen and make soup, of all things. He himself was still recovering from the last hour’s ordeal.

Nicky tutted disapprovingly. “Boss, get changed. Joe, you too. Why would you think it’s a good idea to get under an electric blanket in wet clothes?”

Andy grimaced, throwing her jacket and t-shirt on the floor and snuggling up to Quynh in just her bra. Quynh tugged Andy closer.

Nicky turned to Joe, raising an eyebrow. “Habibi?”

Joe pulled a face. “Do you have any sweatpants left for me?”

“Always.” Nicky ruffled Joe’s curls. “My gray university ones are in the dryer. They’ll still be warm if you hurry.”

Joe got up, returning two minutes later in the gray sweatpants and a black tank top he stole off of Andy’s dresser. He hastily dove back under Lykon’s heated blanket.

In the middle of the couch, swaddled in blankets and eating soup, Nile and Booker were looking much more alive. The color returned to their cheeks, intensifying as Nicky began to scold them.

“Booker, what the fuck were you thinking?” he demanded.

“I don’t know! You said to distract Nile, and she wanted to have a snowball fight. So I said yes!”

“Why didn’t you just go to the park?”

“I thought driving out to the mountain pass would buy you guys more time. It was a bad idea. I’m sorry.”

“You could have died, Book! Just because we’re immortal doesn’t mean we can play with our lives like that. Not to mention, you put Nile in danger!”

Quynh sat up, reaching for Nicky’s hands. She swiped her thumbs over his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Hey, lay off him, would you? They’ve had a tough night.”

“But what if-”

“No what-ifs, Nicky. It’s alright. They’re safe. Now put the rest of that soup down and come here.”

Nicky sighed in secret gratitude. This was not a night he wanted to be left to follow his thoughts. “Fine.”

He squeezed onto the futon between Quynh and Nile, accepting the blanket Andy threw over him. He wrapped his arms around Nile, who snuggled closer.

“Nicky?” she mumbled after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re not still angry, can I ask you a question?”

Nicky pulled back to look at her. “Sorellina, I’m so sorry. I was never angry at you. Nor at Booker, really. Just a bit worried.”

“Yeah,” Joe piped up from the other end of the couch. “He gets mean when he’s scared.”

“I am not mean,” Nicky insisted. “Nile, what was it you wanted to ask?”

“Why did Booker say you wanted him to distract me? Distract me from what?”

Lykon laughed. “Should we tell her, Nicky, or do we plan to try again tomorrow?”

“We lost the tree, so I think we should just tell her,” Joe voted sleepily.

“You just don’t want to carry another tree,” Booker accused.

“Easy for you to say!” Quynh jumped in. “Next time, I’ll distract her, and you can walk a mile in the snow with plastic pine needles in your face.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Andy said, lips twitching. “No more attempts. Jesus wasn’t actually born on this day, anyway. I was there.”

Nicky blinked at her, and then rapidly shook his head to clear it. He looked at Nile. “We were trying to surprise you with a Christmas party. Remember last Thursday, when you were telling us how your family celebrated it back home?”

“Yeah.”

“We wanted to recreate all the same traditions. We got a tree, and some ornaments, and stockings with your initials on it, and, uh…”

“Presents! And that Christmas music you like,” Joe added.

“Yes, and Nicky was going to make cookies shaped like reindeer,” Quynh said.

“Also,” Lykon pointed to a folded-up tripod in the corner, “we were going to take family photos in our sweaters and put them on postcards. Copley said we can’t send them to anyone, but we could still make some.”

Booker sighed. “Sorry I ruined it, Nile. I thought- wait, are you crying?!”

Nile sniffled, turning away from Booker to tuck her face under the blanket. “No.”

“Oh, honey,” Quynh cooed. We can still do it all tomorrow, if you want…”

“It’s not that,” Nile croaked. “It’s just- You guys did all that just to surprise me?”

“It’s nothing,” Nicky assured. “Well, it’s really nothing now, but even if everything had gone according to plan, it still wouldn’t have been any trouble. It’s your first Christmas with us, and we wanted it to be memorable.”

“You’re the best,” Nile said, voice choked with emotions. “All of you. And this is the best Christmas Eve ever. Thank you.”

“Hush,” Andy smirked. “In this house, we show gratitude by not dying unnecessarily.”

“Oh, that was all Booker’s fault,” Nile countered smoothly. “I would have been content with a snowball fight in the park.”

“Really loving the underside of this bus,” Booker muttered as the others laughed.

Over the next hour, the lighthearted conversation drifted into sleepy silence. By the time Nicky thought to ask who would turn off the lights, Joe was only half-pretending to be fast asleep.

#the old guard #joe x nicky #fanfiction #kavi writes #tog fanfic #fluff #hurt/comfort #found family #platonic cuddling #holiday season #lykon #nile freeman #andy #booker #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #quynh #yes quynh is alive as well!!

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smugzayn · 4 years

Text

From London and Back (2/2)

Part One

“I need to shower,” you announce, looking at Harry expectantly.

Upon entering the room, he had promptly dropped the bags, and sprawled out on the too-small bed filling the middle of the space. You had quickly plugged in your mobile, letting your mum know you were safe (but she should alert the authorities immediately if you did not text her by half eight tomorrow morning), and checked the weather again. If you were lucky, you would be able to leave by mid-morning. Christ.

“Harry,” you tapped his foot. “I said I need to shower.”

His massive form shuffled a bit and he just barely turned his head to glance back at you.

“Do you want my permission, baby? Yes, you’re allowed to shower.” The smirk on his face was infuriating and it was even worse that you could feel your skin start to burn. You hoped the blush didn’t creep up into your cheeks.

You muttered under your breath, affronted, and looked pointedly at the open shower off to the side of the room. Apparently, the rich had little need for modesty. Aside from the toilet, which was tucked into its own little room, the place was entirely open aside from half-walls and some matte glass that offered minimal privacy.

“Well, I can’t very well shower with you in here.”

The shower was mostly, thankfully, sectioned off with half walls, but the door that opened into the shower was made of patterned glass. Your entire silhouette would be exposed for Harry’s peering eyes.

“Well,” Harry parroted, “then I guess you won’t be showering at all.”

You glowered at him. “Can’t you go to the lobby for a minute? Or just wait out in the hall? I will be quick.”

“Not a chance, darling. Y’threatened to steal my keys, remember?”

“My keys,” you instinctively argued and rolled your eyes. “Take the keys with you, and then I can’t steal them.”

Harry laughed, loud, and dry, and he stood up from the bed to get closer to you. “I’ve an idea,” he suggested, reaching around and grabbing the towel you had placed atop your luggage. “How about we shower together? Then, we don’t have to worry about the other slipping away? And,” he scanned you up and down as he inched closer. “We can get to know each other a bit better.”

When you bumped into the wall behind you, you realised you had been scooting away from his encroaching advancements. You snatched the towel out of his hand.

“Fine. Just don’t look.”

Harry smirked and watched you turn on your heel with your towel and luggage in hand.

Fully clothed, you stepped into the shower, and, before removing any of your clothes, you carefully hung the towel from the rack to block your lower half from any prowling eyes. The shower was nice and hot and it helped to relieve the tension in your back, shoulders, and neck that you didn’t realize was there but didn’t surprise you in the least. Harry was stressing you out.

You rolled your neck when you noticed him slip around the corner to use the toiler. His eyes flickered towards you quickly, a devilish smirk twisting his lips as his eyebrows raised in appreciation.

You made sure to use every last drop of the complimentary shampoo, conditioner, and body soap. You even took the time to dump the excess moisturizer down the drain. If you thought there was a chance you could’ve used the entire hotel’s hot water, then you would’ve tried to use that all, too.

You’re not sure what about Harry brought out the obstinacy in you. He just seemed to demand the upperhand, and the control, and the power in between you two and you were unable to keep from pushing against that. Something about him made you want to push, and shove, and tempt until he couldn’t fight it any longer. There was always an undercurrent of threat and god if you weren’t desperate to see if it was real.

Harry was right there when you stepped out of the shower. Still wrapped in a towel, you had decided dressing in the toilet would offer you the most privacy; you clutched the three empty bottles in your hand.

“Whoops,” you shrugged, as you dumped them in the bin. “I guess I used them all. Maybe run down and check the front desk.”

Harry looked more amused at your pettiness than seriously irritated, but that same glint of danger was deep in his eyes, so you knew he wasn’t letting on as much as he might have felt.

You leaned against the vanity, drying your hair with a fresh towel.

Harry leaned in close suddenly, reaching around to the sink behind you, and grabbed a bar of hand soap wrapped in yellow paper and matching ribbon.

“Honey,” he mused, reading the packaging, and then watching in delight as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re a twat,” you clipped, holding the towel more securely to your body, and trying to slow down your racing heart.

Harry’s face dropped slightly, a threat lacing his features as his smile just barely hung into his lips. “That mouth,” he tsked, unwrapping the packaged soap and holding it under his nose to sniff.

“I wonder if it tastes like honey?” He watched you carefully, gauging your reaction. “Want to say that again?”

He raised an eyebrow at you in question, and there was nothing kind or good-natured on his face now. It was all challenge, and danger, and warning.

You were frozen on the spot as Harry reached out, lightly taking a hold of your jaw with just the tips of his fingers. If you took a step back, you were sure he’d let you, but you didn’t have anywhere to go - the edge of the vanity pressed flush against your toweled back. Your eyes didn’t leave his face as he reached out with the bar of soap, running it slowly along your bottom lip, and then top, and then just slipping past your lips to coat the tip of your tongue.

Your breath was sharp, your blood coursing in your ears, and a burning running through your stomach, and chest, and reddening your neck.

“Want t’say that again?” Harry repeated, taking his eyes from the bar resting on your lips to look into your eyes.

You wondered what would happen if you said yes. Would he demand you take it into your mouth? And would you? Or would he turn you around, trap your arms and hold you close to his body, and force you to do it?

You shook your head slowly, still unable to step away from his powerful touch.

His lips quirked slightly, and you could see his nostrils flare in need.

His thumb tugged down gently, just parting your lips slightly, and the bitter taste of the soap soured the end of your tongue. Heat flooded through your body and your eyes fluttered shut in shame, and desire, and vulnerability.

Harry’s hand trailed down your neck and he let you go, and the bar of soap fell to his side.

“After I shower, we’ll order some food.” Harry decided, pulling his shirt over his head. His stomach was hard, and there were defined lines disappearing under his trousers, and his shoulders were large, and round, and thick with lean muscle. “Pizza or pub food?”

“Yes,” you muttered, not even sure of the question - you were short-circuiting and over-processing. You stepped into the toilet, pulling the door shut, but not before Harry stepped out of his trousers to reveal a pair of short, black pants hugging his thighs.

The door clicked shut with more force than you intended and the sounds of Harry’s gruff chuckle slipped under the crack.

You didn’t know how to recover from the soap. Harry had only smirked when he saw the nearly empty bottle of water clutched in your hand. It didn’t matter - you still tasted the bitter honey.

This wasn’t you. You were confident, and in control, and begrudgingly followed the lead of others. You got into PR because you could wrangle the difficult singer, the diva movie star, or the eccentric talk show host, and you were good at it. So, what the hell was wrong with you when it came to Harry Styles?

“I’ll order,” you decided as Harry used his towel to dry out some of the remaining water drinking from his hair. He had pulled on a pair of gray sweats and a hoodie.

You went to grab your mobile before Harry had time to protest or give you permission - you weren’t sure which you were expecting. It was time to regain some footing, and taking control of the dinner situation was the first step.

“Chinese, Italian, or Sushi? You decide.” You didn’t glance up from where you were perched on the very tip of the bed; rather, you scanned pointedly through the menu pulled up on your screen. “Chinese has four stars, so does Italian...the Sushi place only has -”

As the mattress sunk down beside you, your mobile was plucked from your hand. You involuntarily reacted to the proximity by jerking your thigh away from where it was all of the sudden pressed flush against Harry’s.

“I’ll order,” you repeat, trying to grab your phone but Harry’s forearm in the middle of your chest keeps you at bay. You’re not so indignant, or naive, to think you can get it back from him by force. So, instead you step away from him and hold your hand out to wait. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of his stupid power games.

“We’ll do pizza - sausage or cheese and get a side, too.” He hands you your mobile, some place already pulled up on the screen. You watch him shove the card key in his pocket before he grabs the ice bucket and mutters something about buying drinks.

He gives you a warning glance and you look away when he tells you to “behave” before slipping out the door.

You roll your eyes to the safety of his back.

You order Chinese and quickly deadbolt the door before running over to dig through Harry’s luggage. He’s just stuffed everything haphazardly into the duffel, so you don’t worry about keeping it organised as you search his pockets, and unravel tops, and search for your car keys.

You can’t stay here with him tonight. He’ll have you gagged, tied up, and shoved in a closet by morning, and Christ if that thought doesn’t send a shiver through your body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter in your panicked search. You start unzipping the side pockets and digging around. You throw the duffle back on the floor and start opening and closing different drawers in the place. The bathroom cabinets are empty, and the keys aren’t hidden in the closet, or tucked away in a nightstand drawer. You start ripping up the sofa cushion in a frenzy.

The door slams suddenly and you can hear Harry out in the hall. “Hey,” he barks and shoves at the door again. “Open up. My hands are full.”

You reshove the cushions into the sofa and throw the pillows back to their spot.

Just as Harry’s growl comes barking at you again, you unlock the door and swing it open as casual as you can.

“Sorry,” you grab the ice bucket from his hands as an excuse to turn away. “I must’ve accidently deadbolted it. You were able to buy drinks, then? I was worried they might be out. Y’know with the storm, and being full, and everyone being trapped here for the night. From the weather, it almost seems like…”

You trail off as Harry leans against the door, his arms folded across his chest. You follow his gaze to the open drawers of the wardrobe doubling as a TV stand.

“Oh,” you shove them close with your hip and foot before setting the ice down. “I was thinking about unpacking my stuff. I hate when it gets wrinkly -”

“My stuff, too?” Harry questions dryly as he looks at where his completely unzipped duffle is abandoned.

You take a deep breath to keep from cursing.

“Yes, yes, yours too.” He walks towards you, his broad shoulders looking hulking and threatening. It makes you prattle on nervously. “I guess I am so used to working for celebs and since you’re a popstar - I just - I was thinking about laying out your stuff for you. I wouldn't want your Gucci, or Givenchy, or Prada to -”

“Are you lying?” Harry’s grabbed onto your wrist to stop you from shuffling backwards any further. He doesn’t let go as he sits down on the bed. He’s tall enough that he’s eye level with you as he sits, and he pulls you in until you’re basically wedged in between his thighs.

“No, I’m not-”

“I don’t like being lied to,” he interrupts. “I get lied to all the time. From my bosses, my PR people, my designers, my publicists, my fans. I don’t want lies.”

The hand wrapped around your wrist squeezes in warning.

You swallow your nerves and opt for the truth. “I want the keys,” you confess, pulling your wrist until it’s free from his hold.

His lips pull upward, not in delight, but in some sort of dry amusement. A harsh chuckle flares his nostrils and you’re sure the lies go along with never getting the truth from anyone. He doesn’t get told no, or hear any criticism, or receive any pushback from all the yes-men who surround him.

Well, if he’s asking for the truth then you will fucking give it to him.

“Give me the keys,” you state firmly. “I want to leave, so give me the keys.”

Harry shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and runs a hand roughly along his jaw. He levels you dead in the eyes before sinking you with one word, “No.”

You storm away, over to the sofa, and sit with your arms crossed and your back towards him. He turns on a footie match and lays back on the bed. You two don’t exchange another word until the delivery man shows up at the door.

You like him better that way - silent.

“I thought I told you pizza,” he growls as a boy holding two bags of Chinese looks up at Harry in embarrassment.

“I’m not one of your yes-men, popstar,” you snatch the food from the boy’s hand and flash him a smile. “It’s a snowstorm; make sure to give a good tip.”

III

It’s late by the time you finish eating. The day had been long, the ride treacherous, and every interaction since entering the hotel completely draining.

While the Chinese food wasn’t that great, you had delighted in every grumpy swallow Harry took of the Chow Mein. His irritation was clear when he growled at you about trying to throw away his chopsticks.

“I’m saving them,” he had snarled, plucking them out of your hand. They were nicer than the usual takeaway chopsticks - heavier and a bit more durable, but what millionaire keeps takeaway utensils?

“You liked the Chinese so much that you want a souvenir?” you taunted and only smiled wider when Harry glowered at you darkly.

“Something like that,” he muttered, placing them safely on the nightstand.

That was an hour ago and the mindless drone of bad telly has lured you into nearly forgetting the exhausting celebrity lounging at the head of the bed.

“Harry,” you prompt, looking back to where he’s leaning against the headboard, his sock-covered feet crossed casually near where you rest at the end of the bed. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

He didn’t respond, just flickered his eyes from you and back to the television as if it was none of his concern.

You stood up, tired, and in a bit of a huff.

“Aren’t you going to go sleep on the sofa?” you question, trying your best to keep the bite out of your voice. “There’s no sense in us both sleeping here.”

Harry just flipped the covers down and patted the spot next to him without glancing your way.

“Seriously?” you rolled your eyes. “I’m not one of your yes-men - or girls. I am not sleeping with you!”

“Then, sleep on the sofa, or stand, or find a comfy spot on the floor because I’m not moving, princess.” You glared at him from the foot of the bed.

It made you angrier the longer he paid you no mind.

“You’re so surrounded by people so stuck up your arse that you don’t remember what it’s like to have someone tell you no. Do you?” Harry licked his lips, his nostrils flaring dangerously. “You always get your way? Grab this, schedule that, talk to them... Well, fuck you, Harry because I am telling you no.”

Harry stands up, taking two large steps until he’s closed the gap between you two, his lips are on yours as he pulls you into his body. His scent overwhelms you first - fills up your nostrils and you’ve never felt so wrapped up in someone in your entire life. His tongue demands entrance next, and you part your lips to let Harry slip in. He rolls against you, pressing deeper into you, and muddling your brain from any coherent thought.

“I’ll make you say yes,” he growls, a hand crawling up your waist until his thumb brushes over your nipple. His mouth is still hard against yours. “Tell me no again and I’ll make you mine.”

You use his shirt to pull him closer into you, and he forces a bit of separation by dragging that same hand up your throat, his thumb pressing gently against the sides of your neck this time.

“Say it,” he demands, “Tell me no.”

You’re scared, and hungry with desire, and your brain can hardly make sense of what he wants from you and what you want from yourself. You think back to the bathroom, and the soap, and his threat. You push him away.

“What would you have done?” you ask as Harry stares down at you, his lips just slightly puffy from their assault. “If I called you a name again? In the bathroom?”

You can see Harry’s breath hitch, but he smiles - a taunting, arrogant smile that makes your heart flutter in desire.

“You want to know?” he asks and after a pause, you nod. You were starting to realise that Harry demanded answers to all his questions. “I would’ve made you stand there and watch me as I lathered my hands up, and then I would’ve told you to open, and I would’ve ran my finger all through your mouth - along your gum, under your tongue, and the inside of your lips, and then you would’ve sucked my fingers until you apologized.”

You feel numb and he stares down at you carefully, calculating. His hands spread wide across your hips

“I wouldn’t have let you,” you whisper.

Harry throws his head back in a humorless chuckle. “Darling, you wouldn’t ever want me to stop.”

His hands run up your sides, across your breast, and rest under your jaw, forcing you to tilt your neck to meet his gaze. The pads of his fingers wrap behind your head and his palms cup your cheeks.

He stares down at you expectantly, and the word parts your lip with a rush. You know it means everything - freedom, and permission, and acceptance that you want everything he will give you.

“No.”

The smile that splits Harry’s face doesn’t fool you for a minute - it’s intimidating, and threatening, and makes you want to crawl away from the touch you crave.

He sweeps you away with one deep, demanding kiss before turning you around, pressing your back tight into his back, and sinking his hand beneath your panties.

“My favourite people aren’t yes-men,” he growls into your ear, his fingers discovering the wetness coating your thighs. “They tell me no. I can’t resist no - it reminds me I’m human, and I’m man, and it’s naughty.” You moan as he adds pressure to his exploration and you feel his own hardness pressed into the top of your bum. “How have you been naughty today? Huh? Tell me.”

His free hand roams up your body until it’s wrapped around your neck and he pulls your head back against his shoulder. You moan when he pinches your clit threateningly.

“Tell me.”

You squeal when he pinches even harder.

“I called you a twat, and I didn’t listen and ordered Chinese, and I - I” Harry snakes a finger into your mouth but encourages you. Your words come out garbled and fuck it makes you needy. “I snuck through your stuff and I told you to fuck off. Fuck.”

Harry pats you lightly on the cheek and rubs your clit once more before guiding you to the bed. When you move to lay down, he stops you, and positions you with both feet firmly on the floor, your arms tucked under you, and your cheek pressed firmly into the mattress. Your bum sticks out and it makes your face glow red.

“Harry, I-”

He shushes you.

“I’m going to make you my yes girl, ya?” You watch him reach back to the nightstand, and he picks up the chopsticks. “Open,” he demands, holding them in front of you and waiting until you’ve had your mouth open for an embarrassing long time before placing them between your teeth and telling you to close.

Harry pulls your shorts down and rubs his hands soothingly over your bum. It’s been a while since you’ve had doggy style and never before with chopsticks between your teeth. You push back into Harry, eager to feel him press into you.

He pulls your panites up slightly, and you practically purr at the fabric against your sensitive flesh. The pressure against your clit makes you needy for more. You wiggle your bum, desperately asking him to stop playing with you.

“Have you ever been spanked before?”

You freeze.

Harry pulls your panites a little more taut and warms your bottom even more.

“Yes or no?” he prompts lowly, “Have you ever been spanked?”

Your face burns into the duvet when you shake your head no and you practically hear Harry’s satisfaction at your response.

“Didn’t think so,” he chirps lightly, almost slightly disproving. “We’ll change that.”

He pulls your panties tighter, balling them in one of his first, and forcing you to arch your back and pop your bum.

“Eight this first time,” Harry decides. “Two for each offense. I’ll explain more tomorrow, but for now it will just be two. Understand?”

You’re so caught up in your shame, and confusion, and the feeling of wetness dripping down your leg that you nod into the mattress noiselessly.

Harry grins and adjusts himself where he’s still tucked in his trousers.

You jump at the first three, the shock of them surprising you more than any real hurt or pain. You study Harry’s face, see the hunger in his eyes, and how he licks his lips as he studies your bum, and even the way his lips twitch delightedly when you gasp at his touch. You think you’d let him spank you every day if it means getting to see him look at you like that.

By the time Harry says, “That’s eight” you’re grateful that’s all he had wanted from you. Your bum feels hot more than anything, but Harry had snapped harder for the last two and you wondered how much he was holding back. You try to stand up, but Harry’s hand in the middle of your back keeps you still.

He reaches around to grab the chopsticks from your mouth. “Tell me thank you,” he orders, looking down his nose at you.

You feel like you should want to crawl away, but instead you find yourself giving a breathy “thank you” to the man that just spanked your bottom red.

IIII

After Harry helps you up, you think you’re going to have sex.

When he sits down on the bed, you swing a leg over top of him, straddle his waist, and grind down on his hardness underneath you. You’re so desperate for him that you feel no shame - just need, and desperation, and an aching burn somewhere deep in your stomach. Your lips are hungry for his, and his hands crawl up your thighs, palm your stinging bum, and settle at the dip of your waist. His long thumbs dip playfully under your panties.

You moan when his thumbs dig in right under your hip bones.

“Let me ride you,” you beg, sneaking a hand under his sweatshirt and Harry lets you pull it off him. You reach down to untie his sweats.

His hands clasp around your wrists suddenly, and he holds them captive in one hand while his other wraps around your neck and a fat thumb pushes just slightly into your mouth.

“Harry?” you moan in question and his thumb presses down more harshly, prompting your jaw open more.

He stands up, shift you off his waist, and sets you down on the bed.

“Don’t move,” he orders without a backward glance and disappears into the toilet.

You figure he’s rolling on a condom, and you take the time to peel off your own top and bra. You leave your panties on in anticipation of the feeling of Harry pulling them off you.

Your brain is drowning in so much desire that you don’t really have the will to consider what’s happening. Harry’s power hungry and it makes you absolutely desperate for him. You think you’d do anything he wants, whatever he says, work to meet all of his needs.

You lay back on the bed and touch yourself, gasping at the wetness in between your legs. You yell at Harry to hurry up, a bit more breathiness in your voice than you intended.

After another torturous moment, Harry walks out of the bathroom with his top back on and his pants noticeably less...strained.

“Ready for bed?”

“What the - are we not? I thought you were going to?” There’s a small smile on his face, but his eyes betray whatever image of innocence he’s trying to convey. He leans down to kiss you. “We-we were going to have sex?”

Harry shakes his head. “After a spanking?”he looks at you with an infuriating patience.”No, you should go to bed. Maybe another time, after you’ve earned it.” He taps your leg to get you to scoot, as if that’s it, as if he’s just settled, closed, finalized the matter.

“Are you joking?” you seeth and it looks like he’s trying to bite back a cocky smile. “We’re not going to fuck? You just spanked me and let me ride you some and I’m horny and we’re not going to have sex?”

“Yes,” Harry nods. “Now get under the covers.”

“But you were hard -”

“And I took care of it myself.”

You want to scream at him. He looks so satisfied, so sure of himself, so confident you’re going to do exactly what he says and christ if he’s not 100% right.

“Fine,” you growl, pulling your shirt back on and crawling over to your side of the bed. You scooch as far from him as possible and curl up with your back towards him.

“That's it, darling. Just as I say,” he’s absolutely taunting you for a reaction and it sends a wave of desire through your already desperate body.

The mattress sinks as Harry slides in and then the room is plunged into darkness when he turns off the telly and flips off the light. You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy, he’s an absolute devil and apparently you are his new favourite toy to tease.

You yelp in surprise when his hands wrap around you and pull you tight into his body. You wiggle away, but he holds you tight and, after a moment, you let him. You’re angry, he’s a prat, but his body fits so well around yours that you can’t bother to fight too much.

For a while, his hands innocently splay across your stomach, unmoving. You’re hyper aware of his fingers ghosting right above your panties.

“Please,” you beg as Harry slides one giant hand deeper into your panties and rubs slow circles around your wet folds.

Harry just shushes you, and you think you will die like this - horny and in the arms of the man who did it to you.

***

When you wake in the morning, it takes two minutes before Harry is on top of you.

“I’m sorry for calling you names. I’m sorry for cursing at you. I’m sorry for - for,’ Harry peels your shirt off and hovers above you.

You prattle on some more - listing off every apology that crosses your mind - you had slept, but it was restless. You’ve never woken more horny in your life.

“Open,” Harry demands, tapping your chin. Again, just like last night, he makes you wait a shameful second with your mouth hanging open before he stuffs your shirt inside. “I don’t want to hear anything but moans from that filthy mouth. Got it?”

He wraps a hand around your waist and flips you onto your hands and knees. He guides your shoulders and cheek into the mattress with a firm hand.

“Answer me,” he smacks your sore arse. There’s a softness in his voice, a slight desperation that you didn’t notice last night when it was all arrogance, and sharp, and firm.

“Mmmphhh,” you moan as Harry spreads your knees apart further and keeps a hand right above your bum to force a wanton arch in your back.

He runs his fingers along your folds. “Is this just from this morning, baby? Or is this still from last night? Fuck.” Harry growls and snakes just the tip of a finger into you. “Did you like that? Going to bed horny for me? Hmm? Tell me?”

You moan and buck back on where it feels like he has two fingers in you.

“We’ll have time for slow,” he shuffles behind you and when you subconsciously lean up slightly he gently but firmly pushes you back down on the bed. “I don’t have time to tie you up. Stay still.”

He shuffles around and then you gasp when you feel just the tip of him glide against you. He chuckles when you lean back for more of him. You think he calls you greedy, but your heartbeat is so loud that you can barely hear a word.

Harry dips into you a few times, stretching your pussy, and making you moan in pleasure. You desperately want to ask him to touch your clit, or you want to touch it yourself, but the angle he has you at makes it impossible.

“C’mon, lean back f’me, darling,” you feel his length fill you and your eyes roll back in your head in pleasure. He rolls his hips inside you and then sets a quick tempo. The sounds of smacking flesh quickly fill your ears and you groan in need.

You beg into the gag again, pleading with Harry to touch you.

“That’s right,” he growls and leans down to grab you and pull your back against him. The angle keeps him in you but his thrusts make you feel split full with every pull and push of his hips. He’s desperate and when you cry into your gag, his hand finds your neck and pull you even tighter against him, your neck curved back to rest on his shoulder. His other hands ghosts down your stomach until he’s rubbing circles into your quaking folds.

“Come for me, doll,” he demands, pulling the gag from your mouth, and then running his fingers down your body to cruelly flick your clit. You clench down on his cock as your orgasm explodes through your toes, and thighs, and chest. You gasp and moan into your gag and then hear Harry do the same as you grip down on him in need.

“Fuck me,” Harry curses as you both shake through your orgasms and then collapse on the bed.

Harry’s hand finds your jaw. He has thing for holding your face in his hands, but you’re starting to think you might have a thing for it, too.

“B’mine?” Harry asks, his cheeks still red, and his lips puffy, and the dark hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. “Be my good girl? Tell me yes.”

“Yes,” you mutter, your face flushing with heat and desire.

“Say it. All of it,” he demands and you don’t know how you’re ever going to survive London with him in it. You had left London a respectable woman and now you were absolutely preening with the thought of going back to it after bending over, letting Harry spank you, and call you his good girl. It sent a shiver up your spine.

“Yes,” you promised and watched a dangerous smile paint his face. “I’ll be your good girl.”

[masterpost]

#this is dirty sorry #feminism on hold #one direction #one direction fic #one direction imagine #one direction writing #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #one direction x reader #reader insert #my writing

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itsallmightbitch · 5 years

Text

Stitches (Part One)

Villain!Might is annoyingly sexy. God damn. Part One of two, because once again, it was getting way, way too long. The real smut is in part two but this has it’s fair share of naughtiness. *once again the gif is not mine

Pairing: Villain!Might x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Dry humping and dirty talk)

Warnings: Blood, Bad Language

Word Count: 7633

Summary: It turns out that being injured on the job makes the biggest villain in Japan undeniably horny. If only he would quit being so handsy, maybe you could finish his goddamn stitches.

--------------

You were only just getting used to having All Might stumble in to your apartment at all hours of the day or night.

Only. Just.

That didn’t mean you bloody enjoyed it though! Considering the amount of times it happened a week you should probably just give him a key- but there was little chance of him using it when he seemed so content in picking the lock anyway.

It was sort of like a power play. A ‘look how easily I can break in’ kind of thing.

In the beginning it had been an intimidation ploy and fuck, had it worked. You’d walked on eggshells for weeks until it slowly dawned on you that he was simply having a little fun on your behalf. Breaking in at all fucking hours to loudly watch TV and drink your goddamn milk like he owned the place.

Scaring the absolute bejesus out of you when you went for water in the middle of the night and he was sitting in the dark like an absolute creep.

He did that one a lot. Informed you that your reaction was absolutely priceless and he couldn’t help himself.

You’d threatened to overdose him on morphine when he was asleep.

Quid pro quo.

Now… his intrusions had become more of a semi-welcome occurrence slash inconvenience.

After much nagging and complaining on your part, when you felt confident that he had no real desire to murder you in your sleep of course, he’d stopped being such a prick when he came around and if you were honest, it was kind of nice.

It would be less nice if any heroes or the police caught wind of you harbouring Japan’s Number One Villain but that was a thought best left for when the time came. Your less than legal activities for the criminal class hadn’t been sussed out in the six years you’d been here and you doubted that any of them were planning on ratting out one of their few sources of medical attention any time soon.

Speaking of medical attention…

All Might was certainly not welcome when he was bleeding like a stuck pig all over your new hardwood floor.

He was framed in the low light of the hallway behind him, although he nearly blocked it out as he filled out the doorway with his wide shoulders. One large hand gripped the door jamb and the other crossed his chest, clenched over a wound you couldn’t see.

But you could see the blood pouring from it- seeping out between his fingers and soaking through the tattered remains of the shirt he’d been wearing.

His breathing was hard, eyes dark and guarded and the rain had flattened his hair to his head, making him look absolutely manic.

“Oh my God!” were your only words, fear suddenly coursing through you as you lunged from where you’d been sitting- only stopping inches from him and praying that he could make it to the couch by himself. There was no way you could carry that much weight alone and the thought of calling for reinforcements should he pass out was less than appealing.

The only people you really knew were criminals or your parents. You could see how that conversation would play out and it didn’t end well.

The hand he’d been using to stem the blood flow fell from his shoulder and red splattered in a line in front of your socked feet. You took a step back as he ducked under the doorway, effectively inviting himself in.

“What happened!?” you balked, moving out of his path and shutting the door behind him. A cursory glance told you that there was no-one else around, thankfully.

“Bad business,” he grunted, steadying himself on a dining chair- although the wood creaked worryingly under his thick fingers.

“Bad business,” you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with mild exasperation at just how easily he could brush off an entrance like that with such a throwaway remark. He shot you a warning glance that you heeded. It was the most you’d probably get out of him so you didn’t attempt to pry further as he trudged tiredly towards the comfort of your couch.

For now, at least, you would leave it at that.

He sat down gingerly, learning from past experiences that throwing his weight around was likely to end with yet another broken bit of furniture and you calling him all the names under the sun. He didn’t look like he quite had the energy for your usual snarky banter.

“Good to know you’re as enlightening as ever,” you frowned, following behind him and flicking on another lamp as you went. You would need plenty of light for what was about to come next. He sank into the soft couch cushions with a sigh of relief that he probably wouldn’t have made if he wasn’t gushing blood from his shoulder.

“Shit,” you said, panicked suddenly at the sight of it coating almost every inch of his chest and arm. While you couldn’t see underneath his shoulder armour, you could guess that it was slick and red as well. His usually golden complexion was pale but besides that, there weren’t any other marks on him..

Sucking in a deep steadying breath, you pushed away the encroaching panic.

You were a medical professional, for fuck sake. Blood was basically a daily occurrence and the fact that it was suddenly pouring out of him of all people, shouldn’t make a difference.

Except it did and deep in your stomach, panic still flitted around and made you quiver uneasily.

“Let me see how bad it is,” you said, a tremor to your voice. But you made no room for an argument as serious mode was firmly engaged. Despite all he was to the rest of the world, you really didn’t want his stupid ass to die.

He nodded stoically, recognising that you were now in your professional frame of mind and that acting up would only make treating him more awkward. Though his dark gaze still fixed on your face as you gingerly tugged the ruined edges of his shirt aside.

You pulled in a hiss of air between your teeth initially, but the more you explored the less you wanted to freak out.

Despite the superficial shock from the sight of so much blood, your stomach settled it’s uncomfortable rolling as you gauged the seriousness of his injury. The gash was fairly deep but not enough to bare the bone of his clavicle- and you guessed that the amount of blood he was covered in was a result of adrenaline and disregard for the injury as he fought.

“How bad does it hurt? Do you need something for the pain?” you asked, not look at him and you tried to move his shoulder pad away gently. The thing weighed a tonne though and you had little success.

He scoffed, pushing you away with a stern look followed by a cocky sneer.

“Don’t be an idiot. I enjoy the pain,” he rumbled, staring you down as if daring you to disagree.

You did more than dare. He wasn’t big bad All Might when he was in your fucking domain and sometimes he needed reminding of that.

“Oh really?” you levelled a look at him. “So, doing this doesn’t hurt at all?”

Without warning, you poked his shoulder just to the left of his injury and he yowled, infuriated and pained at the same time. His whole body stiffened in agony and his yelping quickly morphed into a half growl, low and dangerous- like you’d awakened the dormant dragon from his slumber.

His eyes flashed and he bared his teeth in a snarl at you, a wounded animal trying to hide behind his bluster and bravado.

“You fucking bitch,” he snapped, hand covering the gash once more as though you were about to go in for a second attack.

Instead of cowering in fear like you had the first time he’d ever darkened your doorway, you simply rolled your eyes at his brutish behaviour. This arrogant showboating of his wasn’t new to you. Nor was he even remotely intimidating when he was clearly in pain.

Hell, he hadn’t even attempted to get up from the welcoming comfort of the couch and so you weren’t particularly concerned for your physical safety.

All Might- around you at least- was all bark and no bite. You clicked your tongue at him, as though admonishing him.

“Language you big jerk. Show your doctor a little respect.”

The look he shot you would have cowed a lesser man and had sent heroes in the opposite direction pissing themselves in fear.

You patted his cheek fondly instead.

“Don’t be a big baby,” you murmured, smirking as you wandered towards your kitchen in search of your supplies. “I’ll get you some bourbon. I still have that top-shelf shit you left here a few months ago.”

His bellyaching abruptly settled into an irritated grumbling when he realised that you hadn’t meant your run of the mill Advil and instead meant ‘booze’. He still said something under his breath as you went though, sullen and annoyed at his current predicament and determined to get the last word in as always.

You kind of sympathised? Maybe?

It wasn’t often that he came to you with a serious injury. Usually it was for shrapnel damage or the odd burn when he was less than careful around Endeavor- which again, wasn’t often. You’d never had to really worry about him before, even if he seemed determined to make you.

But it was fun to tease him now that the fear had abated and your mind was a little less on red alert.

You left him sitting there, your cat staring up at him with big curious eyes, while you headed towards the kitchen.

“You’ll give me sympathy, won’t you Marco?” he said, loudly enough for you to hear as you rounded the corner. You rolled your eyes.

After pulling the bottle from your cupboard and setting it aside, you rounded on an indiscriminate blank wall- the one that separated your kitchen and hallway. Eyeing it for a moment, you lightly rested the pads of your fingers in the centre. It felt warm from the thrumming mechanism underneath and a soft beep, followed by a click, informed you that it was now unlocked.

The panel compressed inwards by a quarter inch and you used your fingertips to slide it to one side, your face now illuminated by a soft blue light. God bless your satisfied customers, you smirked as you surveyed the medical equipment now on display.

You had everything from sterilised needles to IV bags, scalpels to a portable defibrillator.

It wasn’t as though you didn’t have all of this shit legally. But having a place to hide it made things easier when you wanted to pretend you were a normal, run of the mill citizen to your (very few) friends and family. They assumed, quite wrongly, that your medical career had been left behind in the army.

You gathered what you would need, including a damn strong needle that glinted in the low light when you settled on it. You’d need something tough to get through his skin and only then did you begin to wonder again about just what had managed to cut him so deeply.

It boggled your mind, the force that some of these people could fight with.

He was staring at you impatiently when you returned.

“You seem calmer,” he observed, sounding almost disappointed. “It’s almost as though you don’t care what happens to your favourite patient.”

You tutted.

“It’s almost as though you just enjoy making me panic.”

“I like to watch you panic, sweetheart. Brings out your eyes,” he chuckled darkly, catching his tongue between his teeth while his own eyes trailed over you. You ignored the sudden surge of heat to your cheeks because as usual, he was managing to make you blush.

Nothing new there.

While you’d been fucking about in the kitchen, he’d had the foresight to remove both his armoured shoulder pads and the remains of his shirt- despite his injury making it painful to do so.

You had an unobscured view of his chest now, blood painting it red and you were suddenly glad you’d invested in a throw for your couch because it was damn near everywhere had he clearly had no qualms about leaving bloody hand prints on it.

“You better not have pet Marco with blood all over your hands,” you warned him as you laid out your supplies on the side table neatly, glancing around until you found your cat lounging on his cat tree- no longer interested in your intruder. Since All Might didn’t have food to sneak him today, Marco wasn’t bothering him any more.

Fickle thing, you thought.

“The cat is fine. I’m the fucking injured party here,” All Might scoffed, apparently irritated that you were no longer fussing around him like you had been. Despite how he always complained and brushed off your worry, you knew he liked having someone fawn over him. Sometimes you played it up just to watch him melt for you.

Not tonight though.

“Oh hush,” you said, leaning in again to examine the wound.

It was angry and still oozing blood like it was the world’s worst slip’n’slide but from what you could see there was nothing in there you would have to dig out. It only really needed to be cleaned and then it would need at least twenty or so stitches but hey, at least he wasn’t dead.

The warmth of him under your palm confirmed your ‘not dead’ diagnosis. How the Hell did one man produce so much heat?

You hummed and debated with yourself for a moment because… well. Leaning over him like you were for twenty stitches would be rough on your back and from experience, you knew asking him to move from his current comfortable position would be met with a firm ‘fuck off’.

This was going to be torture for both of you- for different reasons. You’d never hear the end of it.

With no other way to reach him without being awkward about it, you straddled his thick thighs- grumbling all the way. His eyebrows rose as you climbed into his lap, settling your ass onto his knees before reaching for your things beside you.

You refused to look him in the eye though and absolutely would not think about how far apart your legs had to go to accommodate him.

All Might, despite the pain he was in, clearly hadn’t lost any major brain function. His hands came up and settled on your hips like they belonged there- blood staining your tee-shirt. They were heavy and warm, the sheer size of them covering both hips as his fingers splayed out across your back. He exhaled but said nothing about your sudden position, simply relaxing back to let you do your thing.

His usually slicked back hair was mussed and falling over his eyes but you could still see the shock of bright blue following your every movement with a sharp, ardent scrutiny.

Well.

That was intense.

“What!?” you snapped, annoyed at his incessant staring- and the effect it was having on you. His smirk broadened into a full blown, easy smile.

“Not quite how I imagined you sitting in my lap for the first time,” he rumbled, as though it was a perfectly normal thing to say. Like he was talking about the weather. Your body jolted, head swimming. You prayed he couldn’t read your face but you knew it was a futile hope.

Your expression and blush simply encouraged him more.

His thumbs swept a wide path over your waist while you desperately tried not to think about how big his fingers were. You swallowed hard, attempting to steady the shake in your hands as you wiped away blood.

“I’d always thought… well, hoped actually, that you’d sit on my face first, kitten,” he continued lightly.

Honestly, the fact that you didn’t pop a blood vessel right then and there was admirable.

“If you don’t quit that, I’m going to poke you with this big ass needle and it will hurt,” you managed to choke out, pressing a little harder than necessary as you cleaned his chest. He flinched, body tightening before sagging with relief when you removed your hand.

He heaved an irritable sigh but you weren’t exactly finished berating him.

“Symbol of Chaos my very fine ass,” you continued mockingly, embarrassment spilling out in the form of harsh words. He glared at you with icy, unreadable eyes. “You bleed all over my apartment, scare the shit out of me and then think it’s perfectly acceptable to make a joke about me riding you. You’re being such a dickhead.”

You said it like you meant it.

You already lived on edge half the time without having to worry about him as well. His lack of concern for his own well being was frustrating and you’d often find yourself scouring the news channels after a particularly vicious fight just to make sure he wasn’t dead or captured- seeing as he didn’t afford you the courtesy of a phone call.

Not that you’d ever expect him to.

“Are you finished, sweetheart?” he interrupted your train of thought, his fingers squeezing your hips almost painfully now. The mildly annoyed All Might was swiftly being replaced by the one who you would get into blazing arguments with. At least you knew how to handle this one…

“I think you’re getting too fucking comfortable with me, little bird. You think I’ve gone soft? Huh?” he lifted your chin with his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him while the other hand held you in place. “You and I both know I could snap that pretty little neck of yours with one hand if I wanted to,” he growled, his face suddenly inches from yours and you had the gall to mindlessly think that there was nothing soft about him.

You were a horny idiot with no self-preservation apparently.

He released your chin and rested the side of his hand on your shoulder, open palm angled towards your throat but not touching it.

A warning.

You’d definitely hit a nerve.

All the same though, some dumbass part of you refused to be intimidated in your own fucking home. You scowled up at him, pretending to be unimpressed rather than frightened. Blood thrummed in your ears, keeping pace with your rapid heartbeat.

Looking him in the eye was like was like staring down a fucking lion.

“Maybe I should. It would teach you a lesson.”

But you’d been doing this little song and dance with each other for months now and you’d perfected your ‘you don’t frighten me’ face long ago. It infuriated him, sure, but you had a sneaking suspicion that it also intrigued him.

He knew full well that he wasn’t the Symbol of Chaos when he was in your apartment. He was just… Toshinori.

Although he despised it when you called him that. Shouted and raged and screamed at you every time but let you continue doing it anyway. You didn’t know why he hated his own name so much nor why he relented so easily when you insisted on calling him by it but, it was always your trump card.

“Toshinori,” you said sharply and he nearly flinched. “Stop being such a drama queen.”

His anger withered right then and there into something else, and the beast reluctantly backed down as he seemed to come to his senses.

But once a villain…

“You going to stop being a bitch if I do?” he asked, cocking his head to one side. His brow was still furrowed, making his face look harsh but you could see his scowl lessen.

“No,” you muttered petulantly, mustering up all of your courage to do so. He hadn’t killed you yet, after all. He’d never even laid a hand on you- violently anyway. Light touches and slapping your ass didn’t count. You pushed his large hand from your shoulder and he let you, dropping it back to the couch below. “But I suppose I’ll save it for when you’re not bleeding out on my couch.”

“Gee, thanks.”

And he was back ladies and gentlemen! How to train your villain, in three steps or less.

You brushed off his sarcasm and leaned to one side, reaching for the needle and surgical thread. His hand came back up to your hip- finished with his tantrum. He supported your weight as you rummaged through the plastic container you’d set aside for him.

It took you no time to find a rhythm for your work as you both fell into easy silence- pinching the wound shut with one hand while the other deftly stitched him up. You had to shift a few times in his lap, holding a small flashlight between your teeth when the lamps on either side of the couch weren’t bright enough.

It was thankfully, a clean cut with no ragged edges to it and once again, you could only wonder how sharp the thing that made it was.

There was no indicator that he was in pain other than the occasional squeeze of his fingers but you didn’t bring it up or offer him any other pain medication. He seemed content with the occasional swig of bourbon.

Halfway there, you paused for a breather.

“You good?” you asked softly, noting that you were ten stitches down with eleven more to go. When you looked up, you saw his jaw tick at your concern but he answered you all the same.

“M’fine. Just get it over with,” he grunted, his breath fanning over the top of your head.

He sounded more impatient than pained now but honestly, that was just the norm for him. At least he seemed less woozy as blood started flowing around his body instead of out of it. He’d have another gnarly scar to add to his collection at the end of this but you were doing your best to minimise the damage.

“Almost done,” you said, patting his chest reassuringly. He said nothing but you felt a little of the tension in his thighs abate.

“Good,” he grumbled eventually, as petulant as ever. Your lips quirked in a half smile. He noticed the mood change. “So…” he said, clearing his throat when it became clear you weren’t going to say anything else. “What does the good doctor recommend this time? Plenty of rest and chicken soup?”

“You know, it’s like you read my mind,” you said, focusing hard on the last few stitches. You’d given him some of your best work despite the fact that your hands were shaking with adrenaline. Not to blow your own trumpet too much but you could see why he came back time and time again.

There wasn’t a back alley, hack job doctor in the city who could do work like you could- mostly thanks to your Quirk.

“But, you know, I can’t cook worth a damn so you’ll have to make do with leftover takeout, your highness,” you added, tongue caught between your teeth to hide your smile. He didn’t bother hiding his, grinning at you like the damn Cheshire Cat. “The bed rest is non-negotiable though. I don’t need you running rampant in Kamino and undoing all of my hard work.”

You had already decided that he would sleep here for a few days before you even considered letting him leave again and he could throw all the fucking tantrums he liked because you wouldn’t be budging an inch on it. You knew he would tear the damn stitches the second you let him out of your sight.

He didn’t whine though. Just said-

“Well, there’s always one way to keep me occupied,” he leered, eyes trailing over you and down to where you were seated over his crotch. You rolled your eyes. Even when he was clearly in agony, he was trying to get into your pants. “What do you think, sweetheart? Wanna sit on my cock?”

Um YES!?

“Um, no, you big fucking pervert,” you tutted, rolling your eyes inspite of what your body screamed at you. He chuckled, amused at how fast you’d said no.

“Shame. You’d like it,” he purred, his voice no longer tinged with pain.“I know I’d fucking love it.”

His tone was light, teasing and it did unspeakable things to you. You had to hand it to him. He’d always been surprisingly playful when it came to you- that first meeting notwithstanding.

If there was one word the media would ever use to describe the man who terrorised their cities day in and day out, playful would not be it. When he’d first stooped through your doorway and demanded your services, you hadn’t thought for a single second you’d ever make it out of there alive- let alone have him tease and flirt with you six months down the line.

He’d inserted himself into your life with the sort of ease that came naturally to a wicked, no good villain like himself. Then twisted your worldview until you suddenly couldn’t see what life would be like without him annoying you.

Sure, he made jokes and provocative comments and generally acted like a pervert when he wasn’t in need of medical assistance- but he also never pushed you and you felt a deep appreciation for the weird moral code that he stuck to.

He was a liar. A cheat. A murderer. An absolute fucking psychopath when he wanted to be. He took a tremendous amount of pleasure in causing pain- almost as much as you took in binge watching Netflix on a Saturday night.

But he’d reeled in indignation when it was suggested that he was interested in sexual deviancy.

He insisted that he liked his partners willing and able to participate and then had looked you up and down like he was actually going to eat you on the spot. You’d quickly changed the subject and then when he’d said his brief goodbye you’d changed your panties too because that look had soaked you through.

And he fucking knew it did.

You’d spent years patching up the worst people that this city had to offer. Which, in comparison to other places, was a disturbingly high number per capita. Like, off the bloody charts high. At the end of the day though, you could detach yourself from them. If the army had taught you one thing in your seven year deployment, it was how to stay detached.

Becoming emotionally involved with a man- especially one as universally hated and feared as he was- hadn’t been covered in the handbook.

It had hit you out of left field like a Detroit Smash to the fucking temple.

You had Vagabond- Ivy to her friends, to thank for the entire situation.

She had been the first villain you’d ever patched up. You’d found her, barely breathing and severely wounded, in the alley way behind your apartment complex. It had been a spur of the moment rescue and after you’d nursed her back to health, she’d been surprisingly sweet to you.

After a few successful meetings in which she didn’t murder or rob you and you didn’t shop her to the cops- she’d begun to recommend her ‘friends’, for lack of a better descriptor, to you when they needed something done.

Seeing the money they were offering had put to rest any guilt you might have felt about helping criminals.

All Might… had come to you on his own.

Ivy had never mentioned any affiliation with him and you’d never exactly advertised your services, so when your door had swung open and he’d marched in, you had all but pissed your pants in fear. So had the unfortunate Yakuza member that you had been prescribing muscle relaxers to at the time.

He’d certainly needed them as All Might had literally thrown him out into your hallway, face first and then demanded that you patch up the burn on his hand instead.

Ivy had listened to your tale the next day, wide eyed and mouth gaping as you’d described the most feared man in the world sitting patiently on your couch as you’d whipped up a special salve to combat the sting of Endeavor’s handiwork.

Despite his rude entrance, he’d been gruff yet polite as you talked him through caring for the burn when he was done. Then he’d thanked you for your time and left. Just like that. You’d never thought you would see him again.

Then he’d started to come around more often. Sometimes he wasn’t even injured and while he passed it off as needing a place to lay low for a day or two, you suspected that even a man as intimidating and powerful as him- needed a friendly face sometimes.

Or someone to ogle. Either or.

Now that you were done with his stitches, you wiped the wound clean with an antiseptic wipe but left the gauze on the coffee table. He needed a shower and clean clothes before you would even consider dressing it.

“Not that I’m telling you how to do your job, darling,” he queried, shifting underneath you but keeping you steady with his firm grip. “But don’t I at least get a band-aid?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, leaning back and away from the heat of his body because it was tampering with your ability to think straight.

You ‘tsked’ disapprovingly at his question, grabbing his chin and moving his face to one side to get a better look at him. He was deathly pale and looked exhausted. Yet he still had the energy to suggest that you have sex with him. Usually you wouldn’t have been so openly pissed at the blatant disregard he had for his own well being but he’d terrified you tonight and had brought all your silly feelings for him rushing back to the forefront of your mind.

“No,” you deadpanned. “You need to take a shower first and get into something clean.”

“I knew you were trying to get me naked. All you had to do was ask you know,” he teased softly, hands sliding up from your hips to your waist.

You grabbed his wrists to push them away but it was like pushing at steel and you narrowed your eyes at him. He made a low, vibrating noise in his chest- half laugh half admonishment for being disobedient.

“You can’t keep teasing me like this kitten,” he informed you, even though you had no idea you’d even been teasing him in the first place. “You make me so fucking hard, d’ya know that?” He tugged you closer without warning until you were plastered against him, almost face to face.

Your heart thundered in your chest and every nerve ending sparked to life under his hands.

His voice was laced with thick arousal. Apparently life threatening injuries made him horny.

Go figure.

“Is that right?” you said, staring up at him while your gut twisted into a million different shapes. He leered at you and then to emphasise his point, he rolled his hips upwards and pressed his erection between your legs.

Your breath hitched despite you trying not to make a sound. He grinned, wolfish and hungry- wanting to chase that sound out of you again.

“Yeah, s’right,” he muttered lowly, eyes flickering to your lips and then lower. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment before he ducked his face to your neck, laying a hot kiss over your pulse point. His mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was thick, trailing in a line along your jaw and back again- until he tugged your earlobe between his teeth and you bucked mindlessly, without even meaning to.

You felt him grin, then the sharp pinch of his canines as he nipped at your neck.

“Come on sweetheart,” his voice was laced with arousal. “Tell me what you want me to do to you. Or do I have to guess?”

Oh where did you even start?

“I- I want-,” you breathed hard, letting him grind you down against his cock. Your thighs shook, the pajama pants you’d worn for your quiet night in, doing nothing to get in the way of the thick shaft that pressed between the lips of your pussy. God, he was big. You’d guessed he would be but this was just ridiculous…

His hand slid along your back and covered your ass and pull you down harder- rubbing you over his cock in a steady rhythm.

Your gasp of pleasure made him grin wickedly and hum a pleased sound in his throat.

“That’s it, kitten,” he said encouragingly, like he was proud of you for being so pliable for him. So easily led into this sinful encounter. It’s not like you’d tried to push him away, was it? No. Because deep down, underneath all of your shaky morals you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

“You’ve always wanted me to fuck you, haven’t you? Always wanted to spread your legs for me? Don’t worry, I’ll make it so good for you,” he murmured, a promise you never thought you’d hear him make.

Gentle and All Might didn’t exactly go together and the thought of him making love to you, whispering sweet nothings in you ear was almost laughable.

…Almost.

It was also incredibly arousing.

“I didn’t think you were the gentle type,” you managed to say, excited by the prospect of having him inside you now. All other issues were pushed out of your mind at the mere thought of him fulfilling all of these promises he was making.

Abruptly, as if to make his point, he slowed the pace that he’d been rocking your hips at- taking on a more leisurely roll that saw him bucking upwards to meet you halfway.

“You don’t think I can be gentle with you?” he asked, hand coming up to cup your cheek and he must have been amused by your rabbit in headlights expression because he laughed. Was this really the same man who you would have blazing, heated arguments with? Who tore down whole city blocks just because he could?

“You really think I’m just a one trick pony? Oh baby, just wait until I get you into a bed. I’ll take my time with you. Fuck you long, and slow and hard until you can’t see straight. Until the fucking sun comes up.”

His words were punctuated by your pathetic whines of pleasure as he ground against you and at the thought of him, not just pounding you into the bed, but actually taking his time? Of seeing a side of him you’d never seen before, loving you slow in all the right places?

Well, you just about melted against him. Boneless would fail to describe how you felt.

How had you gone from stitching him up to dry humping him on your couch? You had no idea but you also knew that it was a long time coming. Him getting all sweet on you was just… speeding up the process. He was still keeping the pace languid and you had no problem with that, the intense build up of winding tension in your stomach twisting ever tighter.

You had soaked through your panties by now and the damp fabric was pressing against your clit with every upward stroke of his cock.

You wanted to kiss him but even now, as close as you both were, his height still put him at an awkward angle.

Vaguely, you remembered that you had goddamn hands.

You reached up and circled them around the back of his muscular neck and tugged softly to indicate what you wanted. He leered at you tauntingly for just a moment before remembering his promise and letting you pull him in.

He was, as you’d rightly guessed, an excellent kisser.

His lips were cool from the rain he’d walked through to get here, but his tongue was hot and as always, he gave you very little preamble before the main event. His tongue was at your lips almost instantly, testing your boundaries of which you apparently had fucking zero tonight.

All it took was a sharp nip to your bottom lip and you were letting him in, letting him take what he wanted from your mouth while you revelled in every second of it.

His groan was music to your ears, deep and almost needy as a palm pressed between your shoulder blades. You didn’t think you could physically get closer to him but you were wrong as he devoured you, your breasts pressing hard into his chest. You kept up with him as best you could but eventually you needed air and to your surprise, he let you pull away when you wanted to.

His eyes were dark and full of lust when you stared back at him, swallowing.

It was then that you finally caught sight of your own hands on him, blood coating them.

His blood.

Your body went cold. Shit! How had you gotten so distracted!?

Fuck. You longed desperately to throw all your inhibitions right out of the window because he was very, very good at this but that niggling voice that had been worried about him from the moment he arrived was suddenly getting too loud to ignore.

As much as you wanted to enjoy the attention and his lips on your throat, he was currently in no state to even think about anything remotely physical. Although… you could do most of the work… No! No, he needed to shower and eat and get some of that strength back.

You knew it and he knew it, despite his attempts to make you believe otherwise.

He made an irritated sound at you when you pulled away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, amused by your sudden fussing of him as you checked over the fresh stitches. So much for keeping everything sanitary, you cringed. You’d been about ready to ride him into the couch not twenty seconds ago.

“Sorry, big guy but the buffet is closed. As much as it hurts me to say.” And oh, was it excruciating. “Now, get your ass to the shower,” you commanded, levelling a hard glare in his direction and ignoring the whine that your brain gave at the loss of contact.

Usually he would match your glare, not intimidated by some uppity little army doc who whored out her services to Kamino’s underbelly.

His words, the first time you met each other, not yours.

He was clearly more tired than he let on as he reluctantly relented, letting you climb off of his lap with no more arguments. You brushed yourself down, cheeks red all while attempting not to stare at the straining outline of his cock through his blood covered pants. You focused on his injury instead of the ache between your legs.

When you were satisfied the stitches would hold through some light movement, you held out a hand for him to take. He shot you an incredulous look but took it all the same, standing in one swift movement that told you it had been out of courtesy and not necessity. You hadn’t even had to pull.

“We aren’t finished here, I hope you know that,” he warned you and your body sang in response. Your face stayed serious though and you pulled your lip between your teeth. His eyes followed the motion and he dipped down for another kiss-

You really, really wanted to let him but instead, you shoved him as hard as you could towards the hallway and in the direction of the bathroom.

He growled, unimpressed at being denied so abruptly.

It was only seconds ago you’d been whining and hot under his hands and now you were shuffling awkwardly and forcing him in towards the shower. Talk about a cock tease.

“Leave your clothes out,” you said, before he could go. “I’ll wash them. You can’t go around in those bloody things like an animal.”

“You sure you don’t want to wash my back in there, kitten?” he was suddenly towering over you, crowding you with the bulk of his body and you felt heat creep up along your neck. You resisted the urge to say yes and follow him- although it was a battle hard won.

“Towels are in the cupboard and there should be pajama pants and a tee-shirt in your size in the bottom drawer,” you smiled sweetly, patting his stomach and ducking out from under his shadow. You cleared the room in an instant, leaving him in the entrance to the hallway and dancing out of reach of his very bad influence.

He gave you a long, very searching look.

“You had company over or something?” he asked bluntly, never one to beat around the bush.

“Not that’s it any of your business but no,” you replied, tonguing the inside of your cheek as you contemplated your answer. “I um… I bought you some stuff in case you decided to use me as a hotel again. It’s not a big deal.”

So what if you’d picked out a couple of shirts and some pajama pants in his size and colour? It wasn’t like you wanted him to move in or anything. You were being prepared. Which is the hill you’d chosen to die on and you weren’t budging from it.

He shot you a filthy grin, pleased with your answer and the redness in your face.

“Oh stop looking so happy with yourself and get out,” you huffed, flinging a cushion at him. He roared a laugh that shook your walls as he retreated down the hallway- appeased by your current level of affection for him.

A soft, ‘mrrp’, to your left caught your attention and your cat stared back at you.

“Don’t even start your lecture,” you answered, grumpily. “You like him too.”

Marco rubbed himself against the cat post, scratching his own chin on the rough material. He gave another quick meow of agreement before hopping down and wandering away and leaving you wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into.

TBC...

---------------------------

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

#all might #all might x reader #all smite #all smite x reader #bnha #smut #BNHAFF

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spilled-some-blood · 4 years

Note

Would you write a hoffman thing where the reader helps him escape the bathroom at the end of VII and they nurse him back to health🥺❤️

THE AMOUNT OF WHOLESOME

You knew what your boyfriend was doing, you knew what a terrible man he had become and that he was a killer, but you stayed by his side, even helped him at some points. Mark was your everything, even though you felt like sometimes he would give up your life to save his own, you still loved him. You couldn’t help but see the good in him, sure he had his dark side but there was a side of him that you only saw, the side of him that was loving and smiled, held you close to him in the morning, just made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

Something tonight though felt wrong. You were sitting in your usual spot in bed with the pillows behind you propped up so you could sit comfortably while drinking your wine and reading, waiting for Mark to come home. You knew that Mark was a wanted man, he had planned to move both of you out of town soon and be on the run, sure it wasn’t how you expected your life to be with Mark but you’d do anything for him.

As your wine glass turned empty, you went to fill it again but the bottle was also empty. You checked the time seeing it almost be four in the morning and still no Mark. You looked at the muted tv that hung on the wall in front of your and Mark’s bed and grabbed the remote turning on the volume seeing Jill Kramer’s face come on the news.

“Over the past two hours, it seems our entire city has been shaken to its core,” the news reporter said, you closed your book putting it on the nightstand and focused all your attention on the screen, “in addition to the nine police employees killed tonight, Jill Tuck, the wife of serial killer John Kramer has been found dead.” Your hand went to your mouth in shock and turned off the tv, not even bothering with the rest. You knew this had to have been the work of Mark, who else would actually try to kill Jill and get away with it?

You quickly dialed Mark’s number praying for an answer but when the line went dead, you definitely knew something was wrong. You bothered to change into something different than just a t-shirt and shorts and knelt down to the box under your bed. You quickly did the combination and opened the box looking at Mark’s extra gun, the first gun that was supposed to be in the box was already gone. Mark had taught you how to shoot a gun just in case anyone tried to threaten you because of him so you knew what you were doing.

Reaching your car, you drove down the road as fast as you could without breaking any laws and having police pull you over and notice who you are. When you had reached the warehouse, you slammed on the brakes and didn’t even bother to turn off the car before you ran up the stairs to the warehouse, careful of any traps that had been left behind.

You were rushing to find Mark, not knowing if he was even alive or not. You hissed feeling something cut your leg and feeling the blood run down your leg but you ignored the pain and called Mark’s name.

You screamed when someone wrapped their arms around you and tried to stab a needle into your neck but you kicked them in the groin sending them to the ground and grabbed the needle out of their hands. You knelt down by the person wearing a pig mask noticing a cane beside them as you grabbed it and snapped it in two.

“I expected better from you Lawrence, I called you my friend,” you sighed looking at Lawrence pulling off the pig mask, “tell Alison I say hi.” You then took the needle and stabbed Lawrence in the neck sending the doctor unconscious and kept moving to find Mark.

You were walking around the warehouse, calling Mark’s name when you heard your name being said from a room near you.

“Mark?” you asked looking at a steel wall-door that you heard your name come from. You looked at the door looking for a way in but it seemed that the handle was gone, “Mark, listen to me please, it’s me. I’m gonna get you out of here but you need to work with me.”

“Y/N just leave, change your name and live a normal life, I’m already fucked,” Mark said from the other side of the door as you tried to find a way to open the door, “I’m sorry, I never should have brought you into this life.”

“Stop saying that, I’m getting you out of here,” you said looking at the door still trying to find a way in when you noticed a hand saw left outside the door and started to use it to pry open the door actually getting somewhere.

You pulled the door open when you had it open enough and ran over to Mark. You noticed the deceased and rotted body of Adam beside Mark and started to try and open the chain around Mark’s foot.

“Just saw it off, I’ll live,” Mark said looking at you and the saw still in your hand.

You laughed placing your hand on Mark’s stitched up cheek, “let’s save that for a last resort, you’re already torn up enough.” Realizing that there wasn’t anything for you to use to pick the lock on the chains, you looked at Mark with a sad expression, “I’ll be right back, you just stay right here.” You could only pray that Lawrence was still asleep.

“Be careful,” Mark said as you smiled, kissing him quickly telling him you would.

When you finally reached Lawrence’s body, he was still asleep thankfully as you reached into his pant’s pocket looking for the key to the chains. There had to have been a key somewhere, how else would Lawrence lock the lock on the chains? You turned the doctor onto his stomach and checked his back pocket pulling out something metal and noticed it was a key.

“Gotcha,” you smiled running back to where Mark was waiting for you and showed him the key.

“Y/N, your leg,” you had completely forgot the state your leg had been in before Mark had pointed it out. You looked down and saw all the dried blood on your jeans and the giant gash in your leg.

“I’ll be fine,” you said going over to Mark’s chains and shoving the key into the lock and turning it.

-----

When Mark had woken up, he was blinded by the bright light of the room, he tried to grasp at anything he could when he felt a hand intertwined with his own. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, Mark tried to sit up the best he could without pain when he noticed Y/N asleep next to him on a chair, her head resting on the pillow they were sharing and her hand holding his.

There was something special about you to Mark, something he didn’t want to lose, he wasn’t sure what he would do if you had been killed. He wanted your relationship to last with him, maybe even get married one day. He didn’t even know why you bothered to risk your life to save him from his bathroom tomb, but seeing you break into the bathroom was like he had seen a guardian angel come to save him. But there’s one thing he can understand best, he can’t see you again, he has to put an end to your relationship. He didn’t want you to become the next Jill Tuck, being interrogated and threatened everyday, being followed by journalists, getting her life ruined by a man. He’s not that selfish.

Slowly and unexpectedly carefully for a man his size, Mark slips out of the bed and freezes when you start mumbling something in your sleep. When he makes sure you didn’t wake up, he walks to his clothes and dresses up, out of the more comfortable clothes you had dressed him in. He knows you’re the type of person to go searching for him so he takes out his cellphone, opens the back of it and pulls out the card, putting it on the table. This will be explanatory on itself, at least that’s what Mark thinks.

He went to the door and put on his shoes then his coat and lingers for a moment. He tries to stop himself, but he can’t. So he just returns to the bedroom, leans and presses a soft kiss on your hair.

“Goodbye.” He whispers, then straightens his back, turns and leaves closing the door behind him.

As he walks to the underground parking lot to his car, Mark feels angry and empty at the same time. Yet he knows this is for the best. The best way to keep you safe.

Mark is unlocking his car door when he feels arms wrap around him and turns around to face you staring up at him with tears in your eyes, “you were just gonna leave?!” Mark tried to push you away and get in his car but you pushed him away from the car and got in front of the car door, “I’m not letting you just leave and give this up.”

Mark turned away from you, it hurt him to see you crying and just wanted to take you into his arms and apologize but he couldn’t let himself break.

“Mark I care about you for fucks sake!” you yelled trying to knock some sense into Mark but he wouldn’t bother listening to you, “and you’re gonna be so fucking selfish to just leave? I save your life and this is how I’m repaid, you leaving me with a broken heart as if I mean nothing to you.”

“Why did you come for me?” Mark asked, his hand on the door handle as if he was contemplating if he was actually going to leave or not, “you should have left me there, let me rot in that bathroom. But you risked your life for me, you risked people knowing of our relationship to get me.”

“It seems I’ve shown my hand, hm?” you mused. “You’re quite right… I should have done all of that.” Your intense gaze seemed to burn through Mark. “But on this particular occasion, what I wanted wasn’t what was most logical.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?” Mark murmured, his hand leaving the handle and turning to face you.

You brought a hand to cup Mark’s face, almost tenderly.

“I’m saying that dear Lawrence was wrong. And so was everyone else, including you. All of you think that you can’t feel… that you can’t love.” You drew out the word ‘love’ in a sing-song tone, grinning. Then your expression turned serious again. “Lawrence was right about one thing, though. Everyone has a weakness. And it just so happens… you’re mine.”

Mark looked at you.

“I would burn down this entire town for you. I would risk so much. And don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t,” Mark whispered breathlessly.

#Mark hoffman #mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman imagines #saw #saw x reader #saw imagines #mark go big sad #slashers #slashers x reader #slashers imagines

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lardguz · 4 years

Text

Zeke’s Just Desserts

This is a "little" story I worked on a couple weeks ago that I kept forgetting to make a new blog to post it to, so uh, here it is! It's about characters from Xe//nobla//de 2 because I have been like really into that game lately haha.

The calm night air of the Urayan Titan made for an intoxicating atmosphere to relax in after a long day of fighting and adventuring. Zeke von Genbu, the prince of Tantal, was currently taking in this beautiful weather while sitting outside a vacant shop front. The muscular man was sitting at a café table, watching flower petals falling from the trees and dancing in the breeze. He was waiting on his Blade, Gorg, to finish… whatever it was he was doing in that vacant store, when Zeke caught a whiff of something delicious on the breeze. The one eyed warrior inhaled deeply, smelling the intoxicating scent of something sugary and delicious. Closing his eye to try taking his mind off the smell, Zeke was taken off guard by the clatter of a plate sounding right next to his feet that were reclined on top of the table. His one good eye shooting open, the prince was greeted by the sight of his newest Blade, the merman Gorg, standing proudly next to a plate piled high with freshly baked cookies.

“What’s all this, chum?” Zeke inquired, staring down at the plate of cookies in front of him, and glancing back up at the aquatic Blade.

“Cookies, sir. Made ‘em myself,” Gorg replied proudly. “Try ‘em! They’re my special new test recipe for the café!”

Zeke took a cookie in his surprisingly delicate grasp, sniffing it suspiciously before taking a pensive nibble. The flavor surprised him, spicy but sweet at the same time. Within seconds the cookie was devoured, and the muscular prince immediately grabbed another. As he was reaching for his fourth cookie, a metallic hand gently grabbed his wrist.

“Ah, sir, I didn’t need you to eat them all at once,” Gorg smiled apologetically. “I just needed you to taste one for me and tell me if anything needs improvement.”

Zeke’s face flushed a slight pink as he hurriedly looked anywhere but at his Blade or the plate of cookies. “A-ah, yes, right, ahem. I did in fact realize this, but you see, the bearer of the Eye of Shining Justice has a mighty appetite, and needed to taste more than just one cookie for the full effect!”

Gorg placed his mechanical hands on his muscular hips and chuckled heartily at the embarrassment on his Driver’s face. “Sure thing, Prince, that makes perfect sense to me! But if you wanna help me out even more, you can just finish off that plate of cookies and tell me if you think they’re good enough to sell at the shop once and for all!”

Zeke cleared his throat, about to pass of gorging himself any further on the delicious cookies, when the smell of the spicy treats reached his nose again. Damn, why did he have to love spicy food so much? Sighing deeply, the one eyed prince vowed to himself that he’d train extra hard with Pandoria tomorrow to work off the extra calories he was about to consume. Then, he proceeded to shovel the test batch of cookies into his mouth one after another in steady succession, even after his stomach was already painfully full. The Zekenator didn’t back down from a challenge, whether on the battle field, or at the dinner table.

Finally, after clearing the plate of every cookie that was once upon it, the unlucky prince groaned in pain as he rubbed at his exposed midsection, his stomach slightly distended from all the food he’d just packed into it. The overstuffed swordsman slowly got up and walked to the local inn to go sleep off his food coma, hoping he would feel better tomorrow so he could begin working off the excess he’d just devoured.

A week had past since that first taste testing day that Zeke and Gorg had had, and the aquatic Blade had only amped up his recipe experiments since then. The day after that first trial run, Zeke woke up feeling more sluggish than usual, his gut still feeling slightly heavy. He had been about to go train with Pandoria when Gorg stopped him in the lobby of the inn and asked for his help tasting another batch of a different cookie recipe for him. This happened again and again over the next six days, a never ending cycle of delicious baked goods being handed off to the prince for an honest opinion on their flavors, and Zeke being unable to stop himself from gorging on the entire batch. This led to the man’s current predicament.

Zeke stood in his rented bedroom at the Fonsa Myma inn, staring at himself in a full length mirror. His hands were currently holding onto his stomach, which had a budding layer of fat forming on it that was blatantly obvious to anyone with at least one eye, seeing as he never wore a shirt under his long tattered coat. His hands groped and prodded at his once-chiseled chest and abdomen, now sporting a much softer, rounded physique. Zeke was about to go out and train a little on his own to see if he could burn the fat off of him before it became too much of a hindrance, when he heard a knock at his door.

Opening the door slightly, Zeke was greeted by the ever-enthused face of Gorg, the budding pastry chef Blade. “Hey there, good morning to you, Prince! Just thought I’d stop by and ask for your help again at the shop today! I made a bunch of a test recipe for flans and need to know what a human thinks of them, if that’s okay with you?” The Blade grinned proudly, obviously excited to have finally moved past cookies.

Zeke almost didn’t have it in his heart to turn the excited merman down, but if he kept up these eating habits, no one would ever look at him the same again. The prince cleared his throat and looked Gorg in the eye. “Gorg, my friend, you see, there’s a bit of a smallish problem with me being your designated taste tester. You see, a strong, handsome, powerful prince such as myself can’t do nothing but eat desserts all day. If I keep doing that, I’ll lose my combative edge, and then what? No one will fear the great Thunderbolt Zeke, the Zekenator, the Eye of Shining Justice, if they think he’s gone soft, right, chum?”

Gorg looked down apologetically before responding. “Yeah, you see, Prince, I did kind of already notice you’d been putting on a little weight from the cookie taste test trials, and I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to stop or help. But I did come up with a plan for the flan tests! I’m using much less fattening ingredients in this trial run, so you should be able to shed the excess weight from the cookies in no time!”

“Wha—really?!” Zeke exclaimed, “That’s fantastic news, Gorg! Well, in that case, I’m all yours for the day! Point me towards the flans, and Thunderbolt Zeke will see to it they never see the light of day again! Hah!” He struck one of his usual dramatic poses, the soft layer of flab on his stomach wobbling slightly as he did so. Gorg led him to the shop front, with a table laid with an array of his latest attempt at a flan flavor, enough to feed a small family for a week. Zeke managed to put it all away in the space of an hour, and then asked for seconds, to which the chef Blade was happy to oblige. He loved baking, but what he loved more was seeing people enjoy his desserts, but Gorg had never imagined someone would ever enjoy them to the extent that his beloved Driver did. So he promised himself that he would do nothing else aside from keep cooking marvelous dishes to please the Tantalese prince for the rest of their time together.

Zeke woke up groggily one morning because of a sudden loud noise interrupting his slumber. He blinked his eye slowly, trying to determine the source of the sound, when it happened again: a low, gurgling rumble, coming directly from his stomach. The prince grumbled and slowly rolled over, swinging his feet over the edge of his bed. Heaving his considerable bulk up into a standing position, the topless prince made his way over to the mirror to take a look at his body.

The first immediately noticable thing was his face, which was much less sharp, and softened considerably by round chubby cheeks and a double chin. His neck was covered in a layer of fat as well, which caused him to have a triple chin when he looked down. His once-hardened muscular chest had softened to a flabby set of moobs, which sagged to the sides of his massive gut. His six pack was long gone, replaced now by a double-decker flabby stomach that split right across the middle, where the top roll folded over the belly button. His arms were much larger than they once were, but not in a muscular way; his biceps oozed with flab, dangling off his arms in true bingo wing fashion. His hands were even starting to get fatter too now. His massive thighs and rear gave were large compared to most other humans, but not enough to give him pear shaped body, his gigantic round gut giving him an undeniable apple shape. His thighs were covered in flabby rolls, a fold of fat beginning to form over his knees, and his ass cheeks were each the size of a large melon, wobbling every time he even took a slight step. His footsteps were now an exaggerated waddle to prevent his enormous thighs from rubbing together too much.

Sighing, Zeke donned his coat, which was now painfully tight around his shoulders and armpits. It had been a month and a half since the warrior prince had begun helping his Blade, Gorg, pursue his dream of opening a dessert shop, and Zeke had since resigned himself to his new fate of being a fatass. Sure, Nia gave him a hard time, and Rex and Mórag were constantly worrying about his health, but he was strong and was able to push off their comments about his size quite easily at this point. If it meant making his Blade friend happy, and getting to enjoy his delicious cooking every day, the prince was happy.

Thankfully, the inn was a single floor building, and Gorg’s shop was right outside the front door, because Zeke was not in the best shape anymore. As the massive prince waddled his way to the store front, he plopped himself heavily into the nearest chair at a table, ignoring the creaking of the wooden seat as his gigantic behind sat down upon it, the flab of his ass and thighs oozing over the sides and threatening to swallow the chair whole. Wheezing from the exertion of just getting over to the store from the inn, Zeke was thankful when he saw Gorg approaching with plates piled high with drinks and cakes: milkshakes to cool him down after his exercise of waddling less than 200 feet, and piles of cakes for him to taste test for the shop. Gorg watched, pleased beyond words at the look of blissful satisfaction on his Driver’s fattening face as Zeke shoved slices of cake into his greedy mouth with barely any breaks or pauses, aside from slurping down milkshakes to clear his throat of crumbs. The strained seams of Zeke’s pants and coat popped in some places from this onslaught of gluttony, causing small bubbles of fat to seep through. Something about his Driver enjoying his food so much that he was outgrowing his clothes because of it sent a thrill rushing through Gorg’s chest, and he realized he wanted to cause the Tantalese prince to outgrow his clothes entirely.

Zeke chugged down the last milkshake, belching into a closed fist as he did so. His fat face was covered in frosting and crumbs, which he didn’t even seem to notice. “Really good stuff, there, Gorg! I think that’ll be some top-hole stuff to sell at your shop, chum.” Zeke patted his overfed middle joyously to emphasize his point.

Gorg grinned enthusiastically as he clapped the prince on his jiggly shoulder. “That’s great to hear! Well if that’s the successful cake recipe, then I think I’m ready to open the shop tomorrow. I’ll just need you and the others to help me advertise. Can you do that for me, Prince?”

Zeke huffed as he hoisted himself up from his table. Breathing heavily as he stood, balancing himself with a hand on the table, he finally responded. “Sure, chum, I can definitely help out with that. What’ll you need me to do?” Gorg looked thoughtful for a second before responding. “You, sir? I’ll give you a whole hell of a lot of free samples to try and entice people to our store, sound good?”

The obese prince nodded enthusiastically, chins wobbling as he did so. “Oh, absolutely! Nothing that the great Thunderbolt Zeke can’t handle!” Placing his chubby hands on his flabby love handles, he laughed heartily, his entire body jiggling as he did so. Tomorrow would be a day to remember for him, getting to participate in the grand opening of the first-ever Blade-made dessert store!

The day of the grand opening of Gorg’s Just Desserts arrived, and the sample table in the square in front of the shop was absolutely piled high with desserts. The overfed swordsman, Zeke, scratched at the upper roll of his round gut as he stared in awe at the display. “So he wants me to hand out all of these? For free??” He scoffed, and reached a hand out to grab some cookies. “There’s far too much here for just samples. I doubt we’ll really need all of it.”

As his pudgy fingers were about to grasp a cookie, a much smaller and skinnier hand slapped his away. “Wh- Hey!” Zeke turned his lard-stuffed body towards the aggressor, being confronted by the much smaller form of his comrade, the salvager, Rex. The brown-haired boy grinned up at the jiggly obese mountain of a man, patting him on his exposed gut. “What d’you think you’re doing with that, Zeke? Those samples are for everyone, you can’t just steal some for yourself, that’s bad for business y’know!”

Zeke sighed dramatically. “Rex, my treasured chum, you simply don’t understand! I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast today, and there’s far more here than we could reasonably give away to everyone who walks by! Gorg has been having my extraordinary taste buds to test his recipes all this time, so he must have thought ahead and put extra out for me to dull my impressive hunger! He’s my Blade, you know. We have a special bond, so of course he’d know that!”

“Oh, sure, guess that makes sense. I did figure that might be a bit too much product for free samples,” Rex mumbled as he messed with his hair embarrassedly. “Well then, maybe you should pull up a chair? I reckon standing for too long’s probably out of the question for you now, yeah?”

Zeke huffed in an annoyed manner as he pulled a chair up and lowered his considerable bulk down into it, once again oblivious to the ominous wooden creaks as he did so. Rex chuckled as he headed back to his spot for calling patrons into the shop, wondering to himself if Nia was gonna complain about Zeke’s size again.

Now comfortable in his comparably small café chair, which was dwarfed by his absolutely disgustingly oversized ass and thighs, the morbidly obese prince promptly began stuffing his face with cookies, flans, and cakes, grabbing each with his fingerless-gloved hands, his plump sausage fingers coated in frosting and crumbs and the fabric of his gloves stained from his weeks of wanton gorging. His jiggling jowls and multiple chins wobbled back and forth as he chewed ravenously, and his flabby bingo wings slapped against his overstuffed pillow moobs and numerous side rolls every time he lifted a handful of sweets to his hungry mouth. His overfed gut pooled in his lap, forcing his massive tree trunk thick thighs apart on the inside and drooping over them on the outside. His love handles squeezed out of the top of the waist of his pants, pushing the sides of his long tattered coat even further back than he used to wear it. His lardy, misshapen ass oozed over the sides of the chair, each cheek now the size of an average bean bag chair. His flabby thighs ripped through the fabric of his overburdened pants in many different spots, and he could no longer properly bend his legs because of the fat covering his knees.

The spectacle of the gigantic man attracted more onlookers than even Rex or Nia’s shouted introductions of the shop, every Urayan fascinated by the massive Tantalese man absolutely stuffing himself in a strange attempt at advertising. Entire personal-sized cakes vanished down his greedy throat at an alarming rate. Yet, none of the observers were put off by this gluttonous display at all; in fact, quite the contrary. Urayan made their way to Gorg’s Just Desserts by the dozen, walking away with their own personal mountains of confectioneries. Nia, the Gormotti Driver who had been traveling with Rex for longer than anyone else now, was absolutely stunned by this marketing strategy.

The furry-eared girl muttered to Rex as they watched Zeke pop a few more seams on his pants and coat while shoving handfuls of cookies into his mouth. “Hey, Rex, why d’you think people are so obsessed with watchin’ Shellhead stuff himself silly? Seems a little weird, don’t it?”

Rex gave her a little bit of a reprimanding look before responding. “Nia, you’ve got to stop being so mean to poor Zeke. He’s just trying to help make Gorg’s dream a reality, isn’t he? And isn’t that why we decided to travel to Elysium together?”

“What, so Shellhead could become a gluttonous blob?” Nia snickered

Rex looked baffled. “Wha… No! To make our dreams a reality! Me and Pyra’s, remember?”

The Gormotti Driver rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks, I know Rex. I was only jokin’. You know, humor? Laughs? That stuff?” She sighed heavily. “Anyways, I guess you’re right about Zeke. He always was a bit too willin’ tae help others. Maybe I’ll cut him some slack from now on. I mean, his clothes sure ain’t cuttin’ him any.”

Right as she said that, the sound of ripping fabric rent the air, and Nia and Rex both turned their gazes towards their flabby companion just in time to watch the last threads of his shredded pants give way. Scraps of the fabric caught in his love handles and under his drooping stomach rolls, as the rest drifted to the ground below his chair. Zeke didn’t seem to notice that his strained pair of boxers, which barely contained his pasty ass now and looked more like an oversized bikini bottom, was now exposed to every onlooker. Nia averted her gaze, blushing furiously. “Ey, Rex, go and tell Shellhead to cover up his unmentionables! I don’t wanna see any of that!”

Rex blushed as well at the realization that Zeke was this close to being nude in front of potential customers. “Oh, er, right! I’ll, er, take care of that I guess. But uh, I think his guy’s big enough now to cover up any, er, wardrobe malfunctions, isn’t it?”

Nia closed her eyes and snapped back at the oblivious Salvager. “’Ow should I know?! I’m not lookin’ at my fatass friend’s body tae see if his one-eyed monster is on display for all to see or not!”

Rex looked at Nia, amused. “Oh hey, so you do know what that means after al—”

“JUST SHUT UP AND GO COVER UP SHELLHEAD’S FAT ASS BEFORE HE SCARES OFF OUR CUSTOMERS!”

Rex hastily scurried off and came back with lots of fabrics he’d been holding onto from various stores, all from his travels with his friends. He usually used them to give to his Blades, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Zeke didn’t even notice his approach, the corpulent man continuing to stuff his face even more with the “samples” provided by Gorg. Placing a massive quilt over Zeke’s ever-growing lap, Rex heard a strange creaking noise as he did so. Creaking… and then… splintering wood?

“Oh, that can’t be good.” the Aegis Driver thought to himself, right before an ominous cracking noise came from under Zeke’s monumentally-sized ass. A split second later, the morbidly obese prince plummeted to the ground, his landing causing the entire area to shake as his considerable bulk hit the floor. Blinking slowly, Zeke looked around at all the awestruck onlookers, then to Rex, who was next to him looking concerned, to Nia, who was standing a fair distance away trying not to burst out laughing, and finally down to himself. He couldn’t even see past the rolls of fat that made up his massive round stomach anymore, so he wasn’t aware of his missing trousers. He felt a chill breeze hitting his back and shoulders, alerting him to the fact that his favorite coat was no more, and his entire upper half was devoid of clothing as well now. The rotund man realized that his arms were now so swaddled with fat that he couldn’t properly bend them anymore, and he also couldn’t put them down at his sides due to the abundance of flabby side rolls and his oversized moobs getting in the way. He also realized that his massive gut was currently pinning his legs to the ground, so he had no way of getting up onto his feet on his own.

The portly prince turned his lard-wreathed face towards his comrades, beseeching them for assistance. “Um, a little help here, chaps? Having a bit of a predicament with standing up, you know.” Rex immediately grabbed one of his fat hands and started heaving upwards, while Nia made her way over to do the same with the other arm. Once he was standing, it was quite apparent to all just how much Zeke had grown during this “marketing exercise” today. His massively round stomach now drooped down to the middle of his calves, the lowest roll dangling just a few inches off the ground. His fat-covered arms and legs were beginning to absorb his hands and feet respectively, both being gradually sunken into the lardy rolls of his arms and legs. The massive pillow sized biceps on his arms, which stuck out at an angle because of his moobs and love handles, were now extra apparent as the reason for his inability to lower them fully anymore. His good eye was in a permanent squint, due to the fat of his cheeks now forming a drooping set of jowls on his face. His double chin had graduated to a full-sized triple chin, and his neck was no longer visible at all, completely absorbed by rolls upon rolls of fat. His rear was covered in massive rolls of back fat, which would probably make it so he would never be able to lie on his back again. His flabby, shapeless ass cheeks drooped nearly as far as his gut when standing, most of the fat seeping out from under his overburdened boxers.

Wheezing after the exertion of just standing up, the mountainously obese man addressed the crowd of observers. “Huff… huff… ahem. As you can all see, Gorg’s Just Desserts are the best desserts you can find this side of Alrest! So go on over and buy some for yourselves!”

As the crowd dispersed to go rush over to the dessert shop, Zeke turned his round face as best as he could to address Nia and Rex. “Now, if you chaps’ll excuse me, I should probably go sleep this off at the inn.” He began slowly waddling the short distance to the building, his flab jiggling and slapping against itself the entire time. Rex and Nia stood transfixed by the hypnotic sway of his pendulous ass cheeks as he inched each tree trunk thigh forward step by step, the lower rolls of his gut slapping against his flabby ankles every time. His labored wheezing could be heard by anyone in a 100 foot radius, but no one seemed to pay the pudgy prince any mind. Nia turned to Rex, a smirk forming on her face. “D’you reckon he can even fit through the door to the inn at this point?”

Zeke von Genbu spent the entire afternoon and evening of the grand opening of his trusted Blade’s dessert shop sleeping off his food coma in his rented bedroom at the inn. He awoke with a start when there was a rapping at his door, blearily opening his eye to see pale moonlight filtering through the window. His insatiable stomach let out a loud rumble as he woke, and he called out to the door, “Who is it? If you don’t have food, you can bugger off!”

The bedroom door opened, revealing Gorg pushing a trolley cart loaded with desserts from his shop. The water Blade smiled at his blob of a Driver, watching him heave his considerable bulk into a sitting position on his bed, panting with the effort of doing even just that. He’s absolutely massive now… He must be getting close to 800 pounds, maybe even more than that! Gorg thought to himself, before wheeling the cart of desserts over to right beside his Prince’s bedside .

“What’s all this, then, chum?” Zeke asked, a look of confusion upon his flabby face. His apron of a belly was just beginning to push up to his toes when he laid down, and Gorg couldn’t help but notice how soft and comfortable his chest and tummy looked. The Blade cleared his mind and spoke up. “Well, because of your PR for the shop today, my debut as a patissier was a massive success! So I figured I’d bring you a thank you gift so we could celebrate my grand opening… together!”

Zeke’s overstuffed sausage fingers scratched at one of his highest love handle rolls, the only part of his enormous body he could still reach with his pillowy arms. “That’s great news, Gorg! But, ah, how am I supposed to eat all this when I can barely move my arms to grab any of the food with my arms this size?” Gorg didn’t use any words, but instead used action to answer the Prince’s question. Grabbing a tray of cakes, the athletic Blade scrambled up the rolls of Zeke’s belly, perching on his massive, cushiony breasts, and shoved a cake directly in between his plump lips. Zeke let out a muffled exclamation of surprise which promptly turned into a moan of pleasure as he tasted the cake. Gorg must have made it special for him, as its flavor was unlike any he had ever tasted before in his life. The one-eyed prince and his loyal Blade stayed up all night, Gorg stuffing more and more desserts into his Driver’s mouth as Zeke grew rounder, fatter, heavier, bigger, all because of his trusted companion. At one point during the night, the bed completely gave way under the immense weight perched upon it, but neither of its occupants cared; they just kept eating and feeding, Zeke crossing the threshold into complete immobility.

Local Urayan gossip spoke of the Blade-owned desserts shop and the massive house of its owner. Strange loud noises could often be heard emanating from it, but no one knew what it was. Many assumed it was a ghost or a pet or something, but in reality, it was the former Prince of Tantal, Zeke von Genbu. The man had reached full-on blob status thanks to a constant feeding schedule of desserts baked by Gorg,his Blade. His massive body filled an entire large room on its own, his shapeless ass cheeks and countless stomach rolls pressing against the walls of his quarters. His thighs as thick as couches now, dimpled with rolls of lard all over their massive expanse, were forced even further apart by his mountainous belly, which seeped in the space between his thighs with no effort whatsoever. His hands and feet had long ago been swallowed up by the flab encasing his appendages, his body a shapeless mass of rolls and fat that showed no signs of ever once being human at all. That is, unless you could find his head in all the expanse, the easiest way to do so being to listen for the sounds of eating and heavy breathing. Nestled between two enormous flabby jowls, an uncountable array of chins and neck rolls, and an expanse of back rolls that threatened to cascade over his head any day now, was a mop of silvery hair atop a comparably minuscule face adorned with one eye patch. The spoiled Prince’s face was always covered in small smears of frosting and crumbs from the Blade-powered conveyor belt of desserts built to deliver directly to his greedy mouth at all hours of the day, his blobby body growing ever larger every day. This was of course why Gorg purchased such a large house for just two occupants: so he could freely knock down any walls or ceilings needed to give his cherished Driver room to further grow.

#weight gain #male weight gain #ssbhm #my writing #fat!xenoblade

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ink-dreams-ffxiv · 3 years

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Prompt 7: Speculate

“Blast! Rivvie, help me” “Yes Miss,” said the thin Duskwight girl in response as she dashed from where she was cleaning smaller fish. Rivvie was a Brume Rat who had been at the volunteer station looking for work when Sahxa had arrived at sunrise. At first she wasn’t sure if Rivvie was a boy or a girl, the man’s cable knit sweater hung down to her knees, and though she had rolled the sleeves up, they still hung down over her hands. Sahxa had taken a cook's needle and string, rolled the sleeves until the cuffs were up to the girl’s armpits, ran a quick loop of string to hold it in place, then rolled what was left up to the girl’s elbows and did the same thing. Her canvas pants at least were lined with karakul fleece, and the boots on her feet were sturdy, if new to her. Sahxa had learned she was twelve winters old, and a very quick study.

Rivvie moved towards the head of the large sleek thick scaled silver fish, “the tail Rivvie, let me worry about the head, put yer gloves on, and hold it tight, she’s still warm, so she gonna wriggle” “Yes Miss.” Sahxa grinned, waiting for Rivvie to put on the thick leather gloves and grab the tail with it’s sawtooth bone spines. “Keep it away from yer face ‘kay?” she said, to which the girl nodded, focusing on the tail. Sahxa slipped her claws under the gill plate, then slid her hingan cleave deep into the feathery red tissue. The fish thrashed weakly, “bloody damn,” hissed the Miqo’te sliding her hand deeper into the cut so she could get a good hold. “She’s heavy, ready?” Sahxa used the moment waiting for Rivvie to nod to toss her cleaver to the tray of rinse water, before lifting and sliding her other arm under the head of the fish. The pair moved together well, the wriggling fish trying harder, but it had been in the bin too long, smothered by the layers of fish on top of it. The fat belly sagged like an over inflated balloon.

“Lean on the tail fer me,” Sahxa ordered, taking up her cleaver again, and sinking it deeply into the flesh just behind the gill she still had her hand shoved into. Once she felt the blade slice through the other side, she set it back in the rinse tray and grabbed the hatchet hanging from a thong at the corner of the butcher table. Moving around, bending the head from the body, she gave solid whack to the intact spine, severing it completely. The body of the fish stopped wriggling.

“Here, remember how I told ya”

“Yes Miss,” Rivvie replied, a smile on her lips and excitement in her eyes. She took the hatchet, laid the blunt side to her hand where it still held the tail, then rolled the hatchet up onto the blade as a measure, her tongue slipped out in concentration, Sahxa could see the focus in her eyes. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK WHACK! It was a messy cut, a boning cleaver would have done a better job, but this wasn’t the time or place to be worrying about it. The girl tossed the tail into the barrel that was already mostly full of mostly fish tails and fins, grinning at Sahxa as she handed the hatchet back to her.

“Okay, go get a chafing dish, a big one lass,” Sahxa indicated the length of the fat baloonish belly. Rivvie just turned and ran along the back of the stalls to where the head off the cook staff was over seeing things. Sahxa in the meantime, pulled her cleaver from the rinse tray, and began stropping the edge on the leather at her waist. When Rivvie returned with the large ornate serving tray, looking sheepish, Sahxa realized that was what the girl thought was the most wealth she probably ever held in her hands, little did she know though.

Sahxa ran her hand along the rubbery thick skinned belly of the fish until she located the opening she was looking for, “No Rivvie, this is where ya gotta be really careful, push yer finger in here,” the girl watched, then blinked as Sahxa’s finger vanished into the belly of the fish, then she made a disgusted face. “Isn’t that where the poo comes out?”

“Not on this one Rivvie, this one is different,” Sahxa replied with a grin, not sure if a talk about the birds and bees would be considered appropriate at this time. Resting the blade where she pressed out with a claw tip, Sahxa pushed the blade along the thick rubbery flesh, lightly scoring it, but not cutting all the way through, until she passed the end of the bulge, then she drew the blade back along the same line, slicing a little deeper. “This is gonna be heavy lass,” Sahxa added as the girl moved to place the tray against the edge of the work table. “Not like the other ones we did.” Rivvie nodded, and shifted the tray until her arms were under it, holding it tightly.

Sahxa slowly moved the rectangular blade back down the line she had scored, pressing out with the finger inside the fish at the same time, the skin and flesh under split in a slow controlled manner until she was about three fourths along the length of the belly, then a grayish white bladder spilled from the cut, sliding easily into the waiting tray. Rather than stop, Sahxa kept cutting until she passed the end of the belly, where she cut deep until the blade sliced through the cut end where the head had been attached. Rivvie pulled the tray away from the edge of the work table just before the intestines and viscera spilled from the cavity. Sahxa swiped through any membrane as the girl took the tray to her work table. The offal was pushed into the trough below the edge of the work table with the rest of the guts of the fish Sahxa had cleaned for the soup kitchen. Grabbing the head, as she put her knife back in the rinse tray, she carried it to Rivvie, who was rinsing her hands off and looking at Sahxa.

“Remember what we did with the small ones?”

“Yes Miss, cover the bag,”

“Egg Sac,”

“Uh? Wha?”

“It’s an egg sac Rivvie, that’s what it is, so practice calling it that.”

“Okay Miss, I uh, cover the egg sack with salt, then rub it down until it doesn’t feel slimy anymore. Then I put the egg sack in the rinse basin.”

Sahxa grinned, maybe later, she would ask the girl if she knew her letters, she could hear the ‘K’ on the end but it was okay, the girl was learning. “Right, while it’s in the rinse basin, take the dirty salty dish and dump it in the tail’s bucket, then take it to the pot cleaner. On yer way back, ask the potwatch for another chaffing dish, but ask em to weigh it and mark the weight on the tray, okay?”

Rivvie blinked at her in confusion, “We didn’t do that with the others”.

“Nope, this is a special case, we need to know how much the pan weighs, so we can figure out how much the eggs weigh.” Thankfully, Rivvie just nodded, and went to do as she was told. Sahxa took careful looks around. Most had written her off as was usual. Especially when she took out her hingan vegetable cleaver. They figured she was some kind of hack, even more so when she dug out her hatchet. But this job was about speed, not precision. Most of the meat was either being ground up for fish balls, or boiled in the huge stewpots dotting the stalls. Nothing was being cut up to be presented at the tables of the Lords and Ladies of Ishgard. This was food meant to fill the bellies of the workers rebuilding the damage.

The lantern lights were glowing brightly. Rivvie hung close to Sahxa as they made their way through the streets of Ishgard. The girl kept blushing and trying to hide in the thrift store coat Sahxa had gotten from one of the stalls inside the Firmament. She had also gotten the girl a couple more pairs of pants, some small cloths, under shirts, and a couple more of the cable knit sweaters.

“Relax Rivvie, the guards aren’t going to bother you. They already know I am one of the foreigner’s working the restoration, they just assume you’re either my apprentice or my ward, probably think you’re from Gridania and not the Brume.”

The girl blinked at her, “Why Gr..Grey-dneeah”

“They think all Miqo’te like me come from Gridania, and a Duskwight with me probably came from Gridania as well, since there are some there.”

“Oh, but, Miss?”

“Yes Rivvie?”

“Miss Sahxa? Why are we going to the Crozier?”

“Speculating lass, you will understand when we get there.”

The shop was quaint, and it’s wares were anything but cheap. The tall sharply dressed Elezen behind the counter scowled when the pair came through the door, until Sahxa took her hat off, her sunkissed ginger hair and dark tan a very distinguished marking in Ishgard.

“Ah, M’Lady Sahxa, it is a pleasure to see you!” His joy and enthusiasm was not faked, and Sahxa was pretty sure she knew why. He took in Rivvie’s appearance next to her with a curious look. “My apprentice Rivvie, Rivvie, this is Ser Marcelle DeCroix, this is his shop.” Sahxa grinned when Rivvie did her best to curtsy without a dress, and Marcelle raised an eyebrow as well. “Ahem, yes, welcome Miss Rivvie. Now I believe you wished to discuss payment?”

“Twenty five ponze of the finest caviar harvested fresh Marcelle, I know for a fact you had it within your shop no more than one bell from when I pulled it from the belly of the still living sturgeon.”

Marcelle smiled a merchant's smile, “yes, as you can see M’Lady Sahxa, word spread fast,” he nodded to a mostly empty cart to Sahxa’s left. The sign was marked 3000gil. Rivvie gasped and gapped when she looked at the small jars. “Let’s not quibble shall we?” Marcelle began. Sahxa grinned, and took one of the jars from the cart. “Come Rivvie, it’s time you got a chance to taste your hard work.”

#FFXIV Write 2021 #Sahxa Relanah #Fishercatte #Prompt 7 Speculate

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aestheticwritingz · 5 years

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CEO Harry Styles (smut warning)

ceo!harry hot as hell

* Quick note before you start reading. I know I haven’t been here writing for awhile, but I’m back with this sexy thing. I’ve been working on a short book for quite some time and I will let you know when it gets published, if you want to read it. Feel free to send in your requests, and enjoy reading this! ️Also, my masterlist is updated!! <3 *

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“Honey, hurry up, it’s already 8:30!” my dad yelled from the bottom of the stairs. I was still getting ready for this dinner event, organized by my father. It was for his company, they raised money for... I don’t know what. All I knew was that we all had to go, no exceptions. Realizing that I would be having some delicious food and free booze, I decided there wasn’t much harm in going. After all, what could possibly go bad?

Putting on a final touch - silver heels - that complimented my long nude dress very well, I was out of my room. To be honest, I never liked functions like these at my dad’s company. I love the cause and, sure, there were a lot of beautiful men to look at all night, but they were all already taken. Dad mentioned a new CEO, but I’ve never met him. All I knew was that his name was Harry, that he was 27 and youngest CEO they ever had. Most importantly, I knew that he was single. Nonetheless, I didn’t think he would go for a younger girl, especially boss’ daughter - but what’s the harm in looking and fantasizing?

We finally rushed out of the house, and after not a long ride, we arrived. We get inside, trying to get “ugly” looks from our faces - ones that say “we just fought about who takes the longest to get ready”. We got to our table and I could already sense the energy of the night. Lawyers and their obedient wives, newlyweds and way old colleagues. No one with children my age - or even if they were younger, they wouldn’t come to this boring event.

I spent most of my night sitting at the table, having some wine and eating good food, as expected. Observing people is the only fun thing I could do at fancy dinners like this, but I still didn’t spot the famous Harry Styles. The night was wearing off, as I thought, until I glanced at the door.

There he was, taking his long black coat off and handing it to the person behind the desk in charge for coats and jackets. His unusual silky suit glistened under the bright lights, but I couldn’t notice his figure quite well - until he got closer. He was taller than I imagined and he could pull off the distinctive suit really well. His long curls sat well on his shoulders and complimented his face in a way I haven’t seen before - considering the only men I see often are freshmen with buzz cuts at my college. Harry seemed intimidating from afar, greeting all his colleagues. I could see the slight smirk on his face and polite laugh when he’s speaking. Even though he was well dressed for this occasion, I couldn’t help but look at his hands, beautifully accessorized with a few rings - I’m sure it caught my attention because it was always such a turn on for me. I fidgeted in my seat when I saw him walk in our direction and noticed his gaze on me once he got close to us. He watched me through furrowed eyebrows, probably because he had never seen me before.

Harry shook my father’s hand and they started chatting incoherently,or at least something I didn’t pay attention to. I was quite honestly blown away by how beautiful he was, it was almost intimidating. He was uncomfortably beautiful, the kind where you just felt awkward to be in the same room with the person. Nonetheless, I didn’t show it. I never would. His low and raspy voice interrupted my thoughts and I quickly snapped out of them.

“Don’t want to be impolite. My name is Harry,” and stuck out his hand to shake mine. His gaze fixated intently on my face left me charmed and that’s when I first noticed his green eyes. I reciprocated saying “Nice to meet you. My name is Y/N.” with smile that could certainly hide the nervousness in my stomach. “Nice to meet you too.” he said and continued talking with my parents. From time to time, I could notice him looking at me, mostly up and down, which made him form a smirk on his face. Somewhere in the background, a slow song started so my parents decided to dance and just as I thought this could be my moment to talk with Harry, he was nowhere in sight. Then I realized, or rather fantasized that this was his way of playing hard to get. Playing the games I hated the most. However, it takes two to play this one, and I was intended to win. Even when he thought he would get by unnoticed, I could certainly see him staring at me from across the room. He even winked at me, and when he least expected it, I winked back.

Still, he caught me off guard, when I least expected as well. I was just scrolling through something on my phone, when I felt the chair I was sitting on weigh down. At this point, his head was right next to mine, and his hands rested on the back of the chair. He bent down and I could feel his cologne and his cold necklace gently grazing my naked shoulder, making every hair on my body rise up.

“I know you already,” he said, not breaking the gaze with the people on the dance floor. “Yeah? Where from?” I said calmly, even thought what I felt on the inside was far different than calm. He decided to sit down next to me, pointing at the waiter to bring him another glass of whiskey. “Remember that club downtown, a year or two ago? We were dancing and then you told me you were sixteen at the time-”

“Here you go, sir.” waiter said and Harry politely nodded. “-that was quite a night, if I remember well.” Harry took a sip of his drink and grinned, looking ahead of us. How could I forget that? Well, he certainly looked way different. Two years ago, he was in tight black jeans, vans and simple black shirt. He had shorter hair as well, but now - he looks like...an adult. Everything started coming back to me, the night of my friend’s 17th birthday, we decided to go to a club - we were way tipsy to remember how we got inside without an ID. Long story short, I was dancing with Harry, and completely backed out when he asked me to get out of there. I told him my age and he respectively left my sight. He was pretty drunk and the whole thing didn’t last more than fifteen minutes - obviously not enough to remember, either way the whole night was pretty hazy.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, I guess we meet again. How do you even remember that?”

“Well, sweetheart.. I can handle my alcohol and remember things, unlike you obviously.”

“I guess. I have a chance to redeem myself tonight, hopefully.” I winked, feeling way more confident considering how charming Harry was. He picked up on what I was saying pretty quickly and responded with a flirty smirk and proceeded to lick his lips.

We continued talking for over an hour. Sharing funny stories and things from each others lives. How he became more serious about himself, work and adult life. Still, he seemed very mysterious leaving some things out, which made me want to know more. Made me want him even more. Every detail about him was noticeable. The way he talked, moves his hands and lips, the way he shifted in his seat when I made a dirty joke - which he seemed to like very much. There was an instant connection, lust and desire between us that could be felt from miles away and Harry could feel it too. Through alcohol haze that we both felt, it was very clear he wanted to kiss me and I couldn’t say I wouldn’t kiss back. He would look at my eyes, lips, then neck and shoulders, which were uncovered for him to leave kisses all over.

“I have to go to the restroom.” I said getting up, wishing he would follow me and have all of me then and there. Yet, he didn’t. He stayed seated and ordered another drink.

I checked myself out in the mirror, rearranging my dress to fit me well again after wrinkling in that chair the whole night. Thought about how Harry truly was different than any guy I had met before. I was never easy to have, I was always polite and friendly with new people I meet, yet this man could take one look at me and I would strip naked without questions asked. There was something about him that I really couldn’t put my finger on, but I would let him have all of me. After all, can’t a good girl have some fun from time to time?

I went out of the restroom and found myself in an empty hallway, not a person in sight.

“Pssst,” I heard passing the coat room. It was Harry, motioning with his finger for me to get in. “It’s finally happening.” I thought to myself as I checked my surroundings and entered the coat room.

As expected, I was pinned to the wall shortly after entering the room. Harry wrapped his arm lightly around my neck and lifted my chin with his thumb. “Good job acting like a good girl,” he said, lust written all over his face. From a friendly Harry to a dark lustful one, what a surprise. “Acting like you didn’t fuck me with your eyes the whole night.”

Low, raspy voice left goosebumps all over my skin as Harry traced over them with pads of his fingers, up and down on my arm. When I leaned to kiss him, he pinned me back against the wall. “Waited all night to kiss me, now you can’t hold on a little longer, huh?” he said lifting my leg up and wrapping it around his waist, thankfully it was literally free because of the cut on the side of my dress. He gently caressed the front and back of my thigh and I was becoming impatient. Finally, he squeezed my thigh harder, moved his other hand from my neck to my face and kissed me roughly.

If something else could tell he was the dominant one, it was the kiss he obviously led. It was far from gentle, he kissed me hungrily, like he was anticipating the moment for so long, and he finally got it. His lips molded over mine in passionate and rough kiss and without a notice, he slipped his tongue in and played with mine. I held his waist tightly, then grabbed the back of his neck in order to pull him even closer to me. I felt his semi-hard dick rub on my core, which already added to the wetness that was forming on my lacy underwear. He moved his hand from my neck slowly down across my collarbones, grabbing my breast.

“No bra? I guess you are a bad girl after all,” he said palming my breast through the thin dress. I whimpered softly in his mouth, which only made him more eager to see what his next moves could make me do.

There was a desk in the room and, in a few swift moves, he picked me up and placed me on the desk. He spread my legs so he could come in between them. I was desperate for his touch. It was becoming unbearable and he knew it, he just wanted to play with me more - and he was winning. Bottom of my dress was completely lifted and spread out on the table, and once he had a sight of my wet lacy underwear, he chuckled and lifted an eyebrow.

“Already this wet for me, dear?” I could only nod. He liked that I was falling apart from his touch, he loved the fact that I was this desperate. This felt like a hook up in an after hours club, except the fact I would never let anyone come this far. Still, Harry was very different and I couldn’t care less at the time.

With my permission, his hand traveled across my breasts to my inner thighs. Cold breeze of his rings - the ones that drove me crazy - were giving a special sensation to my already sensitive skin. He continued to kiss me roughly while teasing me to no extent. His fingers finally moved over to my clothed clit, rubbing circles and preparing me for what comes next. I let out a few messy moans, especially when he started kissing my neck, gently biting and then blowing hot air on marks he left. My body was exploding with different kinds of senses, and I wanted one more.

“I want you inside of me,” I panted barely audible, only to feel him smirk on my chest. What made him speed up his actions was me starting to palm his prominent bulge through the thin material of his pants. Low groan elicited from his throat and made him push my panties to the side. He ghosted his fingers over my wet slit, rubbing my clit up and down - sliding easily and teasing my entrance, until I was becoming more impatient than before.

“So wet for me.. What do you want baby girl?”

“Please,” is all I managed to say.

“I want to hear you say it. What do you want?” He repeated and stopped his actions all together.

“Your fingers deep inside of me, Harry.” I barely managed to request.

“Now that’s a good girl.” he said and did as I pleased. Two fingers curled and thrust inside of me searching around for my spot. Harry watched my face, my eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing. He sped up his pace, only to slow down again and rub my clit with the pad of his thumb. He was enjoying this way more than he should, considering I stopped touching him - which was very hard to focus on at the moment.

“I bet you taste good, too, huh?” he said, pretty content that he got me in this state. He pulled fingers out of me and licked them, closing his eyes and moaned.

“Would love to have you cum all over my mouth now,” he said. “Why don’t you try it yourself?” he said and I opened my mouth. He pushed two fingers in my mouth and I sucked them as seductively as I could, considering my core wanted more of him. With his free hand, he pulled the top of my dress down, revealing my breasts. He played with them, rubbing my nipples between his fingers and tracing over them with his cold rings. I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I pulled his hand to my pussy, begging for him to touch it. That only turned him on even more and he used his other hand to take off my panties and continue the fingering that he started. This time, he thrust faster, hitting every spot I needed him to hit, and I held on his shoulders. My moans got louder, so he put his hand over my mouth, which made me more turned on, if possible.

After some time of messy kisses, his fingers fucking me senselessly and other hand playing with my breasts, I was close to an orgasm and I wanted to let him know.

“Harry, I’m so close, please don’t stop,” I moaned out, way louder than I should’ve. He decided to encourage me and slipped a few dirty words out, which only brought me closer to my high.

“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?”

“Yes,”

“Cum all over my fingers, baby girl, come on,” and that’s all it took for me to spill all over his fingers. I held onto his shoulders, squeezed them so hard that he could certainly feel it. My head was spinning with pleasure I never felt before with a guy and I moaned his name repeatedly until I was coming from my high. He pulled his fingers out and licked them clean and we continued to kiss, like we never kissed each other before.

I decided it was time to return a favor that could possibly lead into something more, so I undid his belt and unzipped his pants.

And that’s when we heard the voices in the hallway.

We quickly fixed our clothes, but nothing could help the way our faces looked, the way my makeup was smudged and my hair was messy. He took my panties and put them on the inside pocket of his suit saying “These are mine now, sweetheart.” I obliged even if those were one of my favorite panties.

An old colleague of Harry’s entered the room, looked at us confusingly and started searching for his coat.

“Party is over, Mr. Smith?” Harry said and the older man nodded. “Yes. Did you kids have fun?”

“Sure did, we wanted to talk but couldn’t hear each other over the loud music.” Harry saved the situation while I was just standing there, still unable to comprehend what’s going on and what happened five minutes ago.

“Sure. See you on Monday, Harry.”

We left the room shortly after the older man and went to the main space where the party was.

“You are so fucking hot. I’m still hard, it’s very hard to cover it. Knowing you are naked under that dress is not making it easier.” he whispered sternly to my side, waving to his colleagues that were leaving, clearly displeased he couldn’t have more of me.

“I will pay you back, Harry. I promise.” I winked and proceeded to my parents’ table. “Come and say bye before you leave.”

“Will do.” he responded.

“Where were you?” my parents started to ask questions but all I could think about was Harry and my wish for this fire he started, continues it’s pace. I could barely walk because my thighs were shaking, so I very was pleased when I heard we were heading home. Even though I wanted to stay and just look at Harry all night, I was in a big need of shower and bed.

My parents said their goodbyes to everyone and Harry was last. After shaking hands with my parents, he approached me and politely hugged me.

“You were lovely, dear. I want to see more of you.” and kissed my neck lightly, subtly. He handed me a piece of paper, which I reckoned was his number.

“In case you want to pay me back. Oh, and I love the fact that I make you go home naked underneath that dress. It makes me hard and I will be thinking about you all night.”

“Is that so? See you soon, Harry.” I said after writing my number on his arm, above his palm.

Ride in a car seemed longer than usual and I tried not to squeal from excitement of tonight’s events. Even though Harry got me to my high, to a high so intense I never felt before, I found myself more eager and hungry for him. And that’s when I got a text.

“I can’t wait. Meet me in front of your house at 3 AM. H. “

PART 2

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