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moonbaby26 · 4 months

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Title: Basement Negotiations

(Chapter 1 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Reader/(Y/N) type: cis female marine

Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader as primary. Smoker x Reader is in the past. And Kuzan/Aokiji x Reader is there a little too.

Chapter Warnings: nonconsensual, dubious consent, language, violence, biting, blood, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving)

Chapter Synopsis: Imagine being an overly ambitious young marine under Tsuru’s command. You’ve just had a very public breakup with Smoker, and without knowing also caught the Heavenly Demon’s eye for quite a while now. But you may have finally crossed the line in interfering with the warlord’s business dealings. Either way, Doflamingo will make sure you get what you deserve today.

Chapters: 1, 2

———————————————

———————————————

“You aren’t listening!” Smoker barked back at you, those two cigars pinched between his now bared teeth.

Things had unraveled here so quickly. Just minutes ago you’d been calmly following him as he’d asked to have a private word in the courtyard here at Mariejois.

For three months the two of you had been apart on assignments in different seas, and almost nightly you’d imagined finally seeing him again. You’d envisioned sharing a bed once more and doing everything you knew you had both been waiting for.

But now Smoker’s expression was practically a snarl and it just snapped something deeper within you as that final straw broke.

All the weeks that it’d been hard to get him by transponder snail, you hadn’t even worried. He was busy. You were busy. And you’d finally made the rank of captain. That next crucial step towards your own dream of becoming a vice admiral someday. You’d been riding that emotional high, just anticipating getting to celebrate together with him.

But this man who you thought would share in your pride and accomplishments the most, looked you dead in the eyes and said you had an obsession. That your desire to so rapidly climb the ranks at the expense of all else was not healthy. You were going to crash and burn, and he would no longer be a party to that.

But he hadn’t wanted to do this over snail. He’d come all this way just to tell you that the two of you were over straight to your face.

And as hotheaded as the both of you could be, the resulting argument had escalated explosively to this.

His subordinate Tashigi had dashed out, tears almost in her eyes by then as she begged for the fight to stop. You considered her a friend, but even she wasn’t enough to reason with you then as you’d landed the first solid kick against his clenched jaw.

A haki infused strike that even a logia fruit user couldn’t dissipate away from. The sound of the connect had been audible through the courtyard as he reeled back.

“He thinks I’m weak!” You called out spitefully to Tashigi as you immediately followed up to invert your body with a dive and a handspring that let your legs wrap around Smoker’s neck next before he could fly away.

Every place your bodies touched, you coated with haki in order to keep a hold of him. He tried to grab your thighs, but you still completed the maneuver to set him off balance and pull him down to the ground instead.

You wouldn’t stop fighting now until you either drew first blood or pinned him as symbolic victory. Because it drove something in you absolutely livid to be thought of as physically less than any other marine.

What he framed as caring about you, you could now only see as him not believing in your strength and ability to outlast your peers.

He didn’t know what sacrifices you’d already made. How hard it had been to claw your way up even to this point. You had worked so doggedly to be here, and you would go even higher, with or without him.

You knew you could mitigate his abilities better in close quarters. But he did knock you back enough to finally turn to smoke and take to the air.

Besides your haki though, your other weapon of choice was the rope dart you now unwrapped from your shoulder. He wasn’t out of your range yet as you infused the dagger with more of your power and launched it at him in the air.

You sensed his frustration mounting as well, and you knew he was about to make a mistake. You saw it so clearly in your mind that you focused on nothing else.

And that was the exact moment in which you lost the battle, as you didn’t account for the surprise attack from behind.

You did gasp aloud as your feet seized to the ground. The sudden cold felt like knives piercing all the way up your bare legs and beneath your skirt as your upper body stilled in that brief paralysis.

Your rope dart went limp on the ground as you’d stopped controlling it. You were trying to catch your breath as that unnatural cold had risen all the way up into your chest then.

“Enough sparring for this morning…don’t you think?” A new voice questioned calmly, yet still imposing enough behind you.

“You always take his side,” You muttered through an involuntary shiver. You’d completely lost feeling in your legs by the time Aokiji walked by you with his hands back in his pockets.

“Congratulations on making captain.” The admiral said sincerely. Before adding, “Tsuru said she has a new assignment for you though. I’d head fast to her office, yeah?”

You stared after him in surprise as he kept walking, but with a mix of a little dread building in you all the same. Tsuru was the last person you wanted to be scolded by right now. But this fight had all happened so fast. Could she already know?

You quickly started refocusing your haki to melt off the ice. It looked like little bits of steam coming off of your legs before you were able to stagger forward with the rest of the excess ice shattering off of you as it fell to the ground in chunks.

Smoker was possibly getting reprimanded by Aokiji next. You could see them talking now. But the two men were friends, so it was doubtful. You really only saw Tashigi still looking upset, like she wanted to say something to you. But you turned your back to them all after collecting your weapon to wrap it back around your shoulder.

When you did so, you realized just how much of an audience you’d acquired in the courtyard. Not just people all gawking on the ground level, but shadows moving in the balconies above as well. Too many to care about right now as your long marine coat flowed behind you as you stormed off.

————————————

No part of Mariejois was actually a marine base. But in cooperation with the World Government, these administrative offices and meeting areas were shared with the marines.

You moved purposefully through the familiar corridors then, only stopping briefly at the women’s restroom area to mirror check yourself.

There was no time to change. All you could do was button closed your marine coat enough to cover up how your skirt and the bottom of your shirt were still wet from the melted ice.

You then took a wet towel next to clean your face of scuffs or dirt. It wasn’t so much vanity though as it was pride. You couldn’t look too disheveled, because that would mean that Smoker really had gotten the best of you.

He had been your longest physical relationship to this point. Two years of your life to that man. And now he’d just pulled the rug out from under you as his thanks for all the effort.

And as you’d turned away from the mirror, you heard the door and two other women coming in. They were talking amongst themselves.

“And she just attacked him right out there in front of everyone!”

“What a psycho!”

By their clothing, they were just two World Government clerks, glorified coffee getters actually. Not anyone whose opinion you gave a shit about even as the color drained from their faces when they saw you.

But you didn’t have the time, just shouldering roughly past them and right back out the door.

———————————

As you entered Tsuru’s temporary office, still concerned for whatever discipline might await you there, you were only surprised to see a couple more of the crew helping her pack her things rapidly away.

“You’re leaving already, ma’am?” You asked, knowing the whole purpose of the trip here had been for the warlord meeting she was always a part of.

Even as a captain yourself now, your official post was still on her battleship. You had sailed under this woman from your very first marine recruitment actually. And for the dynamics of Tsuru’s crew, that meant she was more like a stern mother figure to you by this point.

“There’s been an incident near Amazon Lily.” She responded while sliding her notebooks into one of the bags they had. “Sengoku has asked that we go immediately and deescalate the situation to mitigate any casualties.”

It was no secret that Tsuru preferred a mostly female crew. So logically it’d make sense for you all to deal with Hancock and her Kuja Pirates if it came down to it.

“Yes, ma’am.” You answered, relieved to already have another fight to focus on really. “I’ll go to the ship now and help ready for sail then.” You had started to turn on your heel for the hallway too before she responded.

“You’re not coming with us.” The Vice Admiral cut you off.

The confusion in your eyes as you looked back must have been evident as she immediately continued.

“The warlord meeting is starting now. I need you to present that report on the war in Charybdis in my place. The World Government is still hemming and hawing about giving us the funding needed to move into that area.”

Yes, you were the one who had made the report for her in the first place. But always with the intention that it would have her authority as a vice admiral behind it when presented.

She knew you well though, and even that brief moment of silence made clear your hesitation. Of course she would have none of it. “You know the data better than anyone else. It’s your report, so make it work. Get us that funding.”

“I’m not a salesman, Tsuru-san.” You still protested. If the marines didn’t move in to turn the tide in that war soon, so many more lives were going to be lost. It was not minor politics to be played at by a novice.

“You don’t have to be a salesman. Be yourself, that’s authentic enough. They’ll believe you as long as you’re firm on it. And when it’s over, you can sail back to Marineford on Sengoku’s ship this evening.”

She shoved the report folders into your arms next, the last things that had been on her now cleared desk. “File everything of the reports in the government archive here too when done please. We may still need to reference them again later for those other things we talked about.”

“Of course,” You could only agree reflexively, knowing now she had obviously made up her mind.

And you were all walking back into the hall together soon after as they’d taken everything else that they needed.

“Good luck!” Your other crewmates offered cheerfully to you.

But it was Tsuru whose brow still furrowed as if she’d remembered one last important thing. She spoke to you quickly, but with emphasis. “The only two warlords who showed up today are Bartholomew Kuma-” Because of course he always did. “But also Donquixote Doflamingo.” Who almost never did.

And her eyes were truly serious in that moment as she warned you. “I would say Doflamingo must have a vested interest in the war as well for him to come here now. Nothing altruistic either I’m sure. You’ll be fine with Sengoku there of course. But, do not let your guard down with that pirate. He’s conniving and dangerous. You know this.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You answered again. Tsuru had been the vice admiral chasing Doflamingo from long before he had immunity as a warlord. And before he had been king of Dressrosa either. You’d been there for some of it too, all the way back from those North Blue days as a chore girl on her ship. But you knew their shared history predated even your time on her crew.

That brief look she gave you of still lingering worry was what finally made you relax slightly though. Because it wasn’t that same patronizing concern that Smoker had had.

Tsuru knew damned well what you were capable of. She didn’t try to keep too tight of a leash on you either. She had always done her best just to guide you instead. Direct the weapon instead of dismantle it.

“I’ll be fine.” You nodded at her. “I won’t be intimidated by someone like Doflamingo. It’d be an embarrassment to our crew.”

“I know. But go on then and be careful. They’ll already be starting.” She shooed you on after, before you both turned to head in your opposite directions.

————————————

And they had already started. You’d paused briefly, making sure your posture was just right and befitting of a marine before you walked in through the ornate meeting hall doors.

Vice Admiral Momonga was speaking about previous meetings’ minutes as you kept your calm even as you realized every chair seemed already occupied.

Mostly by lesser staff, World Government fodder likely here as well only for discussions about the Charybdis war. They would be your audience soon enough for this damned report.

There was at least one chair still open though as you rounded the table. And you thought you knew why. No one wanted to sit by the warlords.

But if they had to choose one, apparently they still chose Kuma. Because at this far curve of the table, it was another marine, then Kuma, then Doflamingo, the one empty chair, and then another government official.

So you didn’t have a choice as you slid silently into the empty seat beside Doflamingo and placed Tsuru’s folders on the table.

No one seemed to acknowledge your arrival. And that was fine as you were trying to discreetly reread the reports as the others kept working through their normal meeting preamble. You’d turned these reports in to Tsuru over a week ago, so the refresher was prudent.

But even as you listened while reading, there was something else that almost immediately distracted you.

The heady scent of cologne. It was odd to think that anything could smell so expensive. But it very much did as you saw movement in your peripheral vision.

You refused to look away from your paperwork though. Even as Doflamingo sank slightly down in his chair, as if he were getting more comfortable. His hands were in his pockets as he spread his knees wide open.

The warlord’s bright capris pants were then encroaching into your space to almost touch your own knees before you shifted your legs carefully away from him.

Your knees remained closed, then pointing towards the government official on the other side of you as you kept reading.

You didn’t know if anything in Doflamingo’s actions was intentional. But when he had moved, you’d smelled that cologne just minutely stronger. Affirming that the rich scent was indeed from the tall pirate.

Sengoku was speaking next. And you did finally glance up as you heard the fleet admiral mention you.

“Vice Admiral Tsuru has been unexpectedly occupied with a sudden matter concerning the Kuja pirates. Her subordinate, Captain (Y/N) will be presenting the Charybdis report in lieu of Tsuru this morning.”

And damn if every eye in the room wasn’t on you then. Though that oddly excited feeling was there as well as you realized it was the first time you’d been so publicly addressed as a captain. And there was absolutely no shame to also be noted as Tsuru’s subordinate in the same breath considering the immense respect you had for that woman.

“I do thank you for joining us on such short notice.” Sengoku continued to you, before uttering the words that really put the pressure on. “If you could please go ahead and present the report. I know you likely have work elsewhere as well.”

“Yes, sir.” You answered as a visual transponder snail was passed in your direction.

Never had you presented at this level. But you’d been in enough lower level staff meetings to know the technology as second nature when you let the snail broadcast the documents onto one of the large screens that had been brought into the room.

You’d also been taught to stand whenever giving information to those who outranked you. So you were in your element as best as you could be, pushing your chair away to stand as you just got right into it to begin speaking.

But that wasn’t the hard part either you knew. Giving the information in a digestible format was one thing. Where it really came down to it would be when the questions started. You knew all too well that Tsuru had put her trust in you to not only relay your report, but to defend it as well.

And so you talked about the contributing factors of the war, the major players in it, the casualty estimates to this point, and the destabilization that it was ever escalating in the region.

To any humanitarian, the horrors of those details alone should have warranted full marine forces to intervene and force an armistice to stem the bloodshed immediately.

But you knew the real ways the World Government worked as well. And so lastly was the thing you were most trying to “sell” if anything. Your estimates on just how much was now being lost in trade and taxes with this region because of the indefinite conflict.

You wanted the government to conclude that it’d still be cheaper to deploy the marines in what would surely be a drawn out demilitarization of the area, than it would be to just let things continue unchecked as they had been.

The only variable that you really still worried about was who exactly was feeding the weapons sales on both sides. You’d only gotten an alias out of the pirates and mercenaries you’d captured on the ground there.

There was some individual named Joker still operating out there that they were more afraid of than even your rope around their throats.

You had told Tsuru of course, but both of you had agreed to omit this name from the reports. Because you didn’t know how in bed that individual may already be with the government. The criminals you’d interrogated had been too low level to know either.

That would be a beast to chase another day.

And when you were finally done with all of this and the questions did begin, it was the onslaught you’d expected. Just one voice after another, over and over.

They wanted verification of figures, verification of sources, this, that, everything.

It was hard not to grow irritable after awhile. You’d rather have been doing punishment laps in Marineford with Akainu screaming at you by then rather than defending all these inane quibbles the government officials had.

But finally the moment came where you waited for the next stupid bureaucrat to speak and only silence rose up instead.

Sengoku was a savior though, as after just that first initial silence he made sure to close the interrogation for good. “Thank you again, Captain.” He nodded to you. “This information will surely weigh heavily on our decision whether to mobilize forces to the region. We won’t keep you either. You are dismissed.”

You could have hugged the Fleet Admiral by then. But of course you didn’t let the relief show, only nodding respectfully before picking up all Tsuru’s folders again as you remained standing, then sliding your chair back in.

Sengoku was already speaking once more to the others as you turned to leave the table. And in your intense focus to defend your report, you hadn’t realized that at some point your warlord neighbor had further stretched out one of his long legs. But this time directly behind you.

It had to be on purpose now as you’d turned around and immediately tripped over it.

Only your reflexes saved you. Well arguably so as even though you didn’t fall, you’d had to reach out one arm to catch yourself.

The folders were clutched to you. But your other hand grabbed the nearest thing to steady your body.

As Doflamingo was still seated, it would have just been his shoulder if he were any normal man. But with his taller height, your palm then splayed out against his goddamned bare chest beneath his open shirt.

It was only a second of skin to skin contact. Your palm against the bottom edge of his stupidly firm pectoral muscle. And you prayed that no one else even saw it as you’d recoiled your hand just as fast and straightened up to keep walking. You may have even scratched him with your fingernails for how hard you’d pulled back.

Before now, Doflamingo had not made a single sound the entire time you’d been in this room either. But you heard a disapproving cluck of his tongue as you passed him.

And then something else that pulled from deeper down in him. It was so low, that you doubted anyone else could have possibly heard it.

“Tease.” Was the menacing whisper, making it the first time you’d ever heard that foul man’s voice directed to you alone.

But you didn’t look back. Physically relieved actually as soon as those doors had closed back behind you, and you’d been able to escape to the corridor with the outside guards looking on.

———————————

You tried to remember your promise to Tsuru of not being intimidated by Doflamingo as you moved through the halls on your way to the archive next. But your body was ignoring your brain somehow.

You felt flustered again. Not so unlike you had with Smoker this morning. But it was clearly different. With Smoker you’d been angry, hurt even if you were finally being honest with yourself.

You felt angry now too obviously. That some arrogant warlord would try to embarrass you in front of your superiors like that.

But that wasn’t all. You were frustrated by his insinuation. Because why did he say that to you? It wasn’t even the word really. It was the way in which he said it.

Tease.

Like a promise…or a threat. You realized just how much your conflicted feelings must show on your face as well for the very weird look the World Government pencil pusher gave you as you walked up to their desk at the entrance of the basement archives.

“Security clearance please.” The worker still said reflexively.

You said your name and rank as you flashed your marine card from out of your pocket. “I’m bringing these documents to be filed about the Charybdis war.” As Tsuru had also requested you to do earlier.

The clerk looked at the government numbering on one of the folders briefly. “Bottom level, store room D. Please leave them in the return lockbox there and they will be cataloged in three to five business days.”

Ah, the joys of bureaucracy. “Thank you,” You said anyway as they pressed a button on their desk to unlock the stairwell door.

Once you were past the door and you heard the deadbolts slide back closed again though, you sighed.

You just needed to forget all of it. Fuck Smoker and his betrayal, fuck Doflamingo and his mind games. Nothing was supposed to be like this today.

But to your horror, you realized your eyes were finally trying to water a little as you began the long descent.

The basement archives were an absurd thirteen levels and you were now heading for the bottom as you descended the narrow stairwell.

Of course everyone had warned you. They’d said that you would be too much for Smoker to put up with in the long run. But you’d wanted him. Or maybe you’d just wanted someone who could hold his own against you period. And Smoker had just happened to be who fit the bill and was available at that time.

You wiped idly at your face and the new dampness there. You’d waited three months too, thinking you’d have a real man in your bed again tonight. You’d behaved in every port of call and ignored the cat calls and the stares of useless boys in the ranks in order to stay abstinent.

And for what?

To be left with nothing but a goodbye fight in the middle of Mariejois.

So that’s where your mind really was as you kept on down the stairs. The overly loud ventilation fans made even hearing your own footsteps difficult. But the constant white noise was kind of soothing too.

As you finally entered storage room D on the very bottom level, you had to click the lights on. There was a large metal table in the room’s center, with rows of shelving all around. Shelves full of different file boxes, as you found the lockbox noted for those still to be filed.

You slid your paperwork into the slot to complete your task. But hesitated after, now thinking how little your somewhat irritated thighs were going to enjoy the equally lengthy stair climb back up.

All alone at last, you opened your marine coat then to take a better look at your bare legs. The damage really wasn’t all that noticeable visually. But couldn’t Aokiji just have stopped at your calves? Did he have to ice burn you so far upward past that?

You were fiddling with your tight skirt next, trying to shift it slightly so that the side seam wasn’t pressing as much into the irritated skin there when you actually caught the smell of something.

Just the faintest hint of expensive cologne, completely out of place here as you realized with a sudden dread that you had left your back to the open doorway.

Your observation haki was still the weaker of the two types you possessed. But not unusable to you, especially when it screamed in your mind to move now as your body instantly chose fight over flight.

You could actually feel the air movement against the tears still in your eyes as Doflamingo’s strings passed you in a near miss as you dodged.

The coil of your rope dart was already slid off your shoulder by then as well. The dagger tip and rope glowing with haki as you struck back at your attacker, launching your weapon towards the doorway in a blur.

For how tall he was, the warlord moved as fast as anyone you’d ever fought though. Faster even, with only your haki keeping him from shredding your rope dart with his strings as they entangled one another.

His long fingers were jerking this way and that as you tried to keep up. It was exceedingly more difficult to protect yourself and your weapon at the same time.

His strings were slicing through anything else they contacted. The lockbox you’d just used exploded like confetti behind you.

String after string was dancing around your body too as you blocked with a pepper of armament coating. The confines of the room made strategy limited. There were only so many evasive moves you could make before you had to get in closer to him.

And your legs were your best weapon once the rope dart was out of play. You were too close to him now to get enough throw in the dart anyway, switching to kicks as your heavy ankle boots went for him hard.

Hard enough that he grunted with the rapid strikes, actually taking a few steps back. But you knew his own coating was protecting all those vital points just as quickly.

Haki meeting haki over and over as you tried to be fast enough to find a weak spot before he could cover it.

And when you couldn’t with your feet, you went for punches instead. You knew the switch up may give you a single chance to land a significant blow, and it really did.

He had still been focusing on your legs as you’d sprung off of your foot, up in the air, but then clocking him as hard as you possibly could in the left side of his face with your haki flared out from that punch.

The connect and the resulting way his face whipped to the side was the most satisfying thing you had experienced in ages. Even more so than hitting Smoker this morning in front of everyone.

But your satisfaction was short lived as Doflamingo’s leg came up in brutal retribution.

“Athlete!” He snarled the named attack, his entire leg coated with that aura of willpower then and strings arcing behind it from his foot as you tried to block.

It was too strong to matter though. Even though you did block him, your back still crashed into the far wall after the hit. Files flew everywhere through the air as you had shattered and twisted multiple rows of shelves when you’d been sent straight through them.

You’d coated your spine and the back of your head before the hit to keep from having your back broken or worse. But it still knocked the wind out of you and hurt like a mother fucker before Doflamingo’s hand was then tight around your throat before you could hope to charge him again.

He’d crossed the room in an instant to follow you. And you choked once initially in his grip, but didn’t plead as you glared up into those blood red glasses now looming above you.

That single moment of being stunned was all it took for him to lock you in place as well as you felt the strings now tightening around your arms and legs when he pinned you.

He was breathing audibly though with blood running from the side of his mouth as he did so. Your earlier punch had put his cheek into his teeth enough to shred some of that inner flesh you realized.

You could see the hateful sneer on his face and the angry blood vessel bulging on his forehead. But he didn’t even speak at first. When his strings were fully tight enough on your limbs, only then did his hand release your throat.

Which let you take a gasping breath of course, refilling your lungs as soon as able. Yet you felt his fingers on the side of your face next. Calloused fingertips as they moved roughly across your tear streaks to smear them even further.

“Don’t tell me you came down here just to pity yourself.” He said almost as a growl then.

“I thought you liked to fight.” He added soon after though. But the way he was watching you made it feel like he was beginning to pivot from frustration to gloating already.

“You attacked a marine unprovoked.” You breathed again, trying to get some mental grasp back by falling into protocol. “Your immunity doesn’t give you that right.”

His head tilted slightly at your wording, that predatory body language remaining. “Unprovoked?” He was starting to smile too. But it was an equally cruel looking expression. “I strongly disagree.”

And to your shock, the strings around your legs actually started to spread them open as he only smiled larger. “You have no idea how long this has been coming. Tsuru’s little pet…” He mocked with an unnerving chuckle. “And she finally let you out of the nest alone. What did she expect would happen?”

As he said this, he only paused long enough to remove that gaudy pink feather coat, hanging it out of his way on one of the mangled shelves.

But this boded even worse for you. Showing he was planning on remaining here for more than a short time as you tried to move against the strings abruptly then. Even testing your haki to see if you could weaken them that way. But as thin as they were, they were just too many to break.

At least not without incurring severe injury on yourself. You felt the immediate sting as blood ran down from one of your calves to drip on the floor when you’d pulled too hard against the sharp strands.

“Mmm.” He almost cooed, watching the fresh blood for a moment as he partially rolled up the white sleeves of his open dress shirt. “Willing to lose some limbs just to show me how tough you really are then?” He questioned.

But you shuddered as his hand found your inner thigh immediately after. He steadied your leg with his grip initially, actually keeping the string from digging in further. But he didn’t stop there as his palm slid up for his long fingers to press against your underwear after.

“You can’t be serious.” You spoke in complete disbelief at the unwanted touch. He was a warlord, a fucking king of an entire country actually. In what world would he feel the need to prove anything by forcing himself on the likes of you? Maybe that wasn’t where your thought process should have been in this moment. But that’s where it goddamn went as he started to massage you shamelessly through the fabric.

It just didn’t make sense for him to risk his status for such a basic crime. It really didn’t.

“I already told you.” He chided as he never looked away from your face now. “You and me…you’ve been playing with this fire for quite awhile, little marine. Fair is fair.”

What was he talking about!? You’d never even interacted with him before now. Not directly at least, and never alone.

You were startled again though as with just another flick of his fingers, your underwear was cut apart. He pulled the loose fabric away, letting the pieces fall to the ground as his probing fingers replaced the previous massaging immediately.

“And don’t worry about us being interrupted.” His voice was so smooth too as if he wasn’t now attempting to finger fuck you just below your skirt. “That peon upstairs isn’t going to say a word. I work for the World Government remember? And my influence here is still more than most would think.”

“But the marines,” You shifted, trying and failing to sound threatening at all as one of his fingers pressed quickly past your sensitive entrance.

“Heh,” he laughed a little as you tightened around his finger, trying to resist it moving deeper. “I told your cohorts that I had to take a piss. But my string clone is being a good boy in my place by now I’m sure.”

“The fuck did I ever do to you!?” You retorted at that, hating how simple it all really was. Was no one really going to realize his trick? And would he just kill you when it was all said and done to keep you from talking about this?

“You really are trying to bait me, aren’t you?” He laughed again. “Can’t I just say I want to fuck you? What’s so wrong with that? I’ve seen you around for how many years now? In your slutty little skirts, always ready to fight. But still ignoring me like the bitch that you are.”

No, you still didn’t fully believe that. There was more to this. You’d done something that made you a threat. But you’d be stupid to rile him up too much again. So you tried to focus on just surviving the here and now.

“And you’re still tighter than I thought you’d be.” He commented anyway though, clearly giving his attention back to the way your walls kept closing on his finger. “I bet even a weakling like Smoker felt big in there didn’t he? I saw the show you put on with him earlier. Made me a little jealous…”

His voice was also trying so hard to entice you. Every time he spoke, you felt like you were reacting to that just as much as his touch.

“Was that pissant really what you were crying over though? Did he break that little marine heart?” He continued, tracing another finger over your shirt, directly between your breasts at the word. “You know…the best revenge is just getting right back up and onto a new cock.”

The odd way his tone still deepened then, was he speaking from experience? You’d heard the rumors about him and Sir Crocodile.

But Doflamingo was also really moving his other hand harshly between your legs now. You could feel how slick it had already gotten to your shame as well.

Men or women, it likely didn’t matter to him. As long as he got to be the one in control. But still, why you?

“You talk a lot.” Was what you finally said, trying not to let your hips move against his hand like your traitorous body already wanted to do. He’d added a second finger inside you now, spreading things even a little more.

But he didn’t get angry when you responded again. It was as if he’d been waiting for it actually.

“Then kiss me and shut me up you marine bitch.” He taunted in return. Yet with it obvious that you were restrained and could make no such move before he suddenly bent down to take your lips by force instead.

And there was nothing you could do but endure as his obscene tongue quickly pushed its way past your teeth. The taste of his blood from your earlier punch was still heavily there as well.

He made a greedy sound against your lips, trying to coax your own tongue out as you held back.

And when you wouldn’t meet him there, he suddenly bit your bottom lip instead. Hard enough that you yelped into his mouth and pulled against the strings again.

But he only laughed as he grabbed you by the back of your head. Keeping you from biting him in return before the blood started pooling from your wound.

“You really thought you wouldn’t be punished for trying to break my goddamn jaw earlier, woman?” He was still smiling as he said it though, now watching your blood run down your chin.

“I think red really is your color though.” He added needfully too, and before you could turn your face away, he’d leaned in again to actually lick the blood trail from your skin.

Which transitioned into another wet kiss even as he held your hair with his fist tight against your scalp.

“Just accept what I’m offering you, woman.” He growled a little as he broke the kiss once more. “You want to live I’m sure. But I’m not unreasonable. Keep your mouth shut after this, and I’ll make sure your rank doesn’t stop at captain either. There’s no reason we can’t both have what we want.”

“You don’t even know me.” Somehow you still found those words to say. Even if you knew it was useless. You’d made the mistake of briefly glancing down when he’d shifted too. His large arousal was now obvious through his already tight pants.

But he spoke again regardless. “Don’t I? I know ruthlessness when I see it. Ambition.” Abruptly he’d slid his fingers back out of you now. His smile was nearly ear to ear. “That’s why Smoker turned on you. Don’t you get it?”

And you could only be more surprised as he squatted down in front of you without warning. Long legs bent, his ass almost touching the ground. But not quite as he grabbed your outer thighs to start pushing your skirt up and out of his way.

“They’re afraid of you, darling.” Doflamingo nearly purred, the warmth of his breath then against your exposed slit.

“So I’m the man you need now.” He said almost softly, just before his mouth closed around you.

You bucked and it only made him press harder, he was sucking you audibly. Mouthing your clit before letting his long tongue back out to sweep across it as if it needed to be licked clean. As if it was his absolute mission to send those trembles through your thighs and hear you whimper for him.

He had no hesitation, no shame at all as he kept his mouth and nose buried against you. You could feel even his glasses scraping your skin as he worked roughly and you shuddered multiple times.

“You see?” He did speak after another long lick, looking up at you again. “You want it don’t you? All of it. So take it. That’s what power is.”

He really was a manipulator, changing as fast as the tides to meet his goals. To imagine this level of confidence existing naturally in anyone would have been hard to believe if you hadn’t been right here to witness it.

“Are you recruiting me or fucking me, warlord?” You asked, but too overstimulated for it to sound like anything more than you struggling with yourself now.

He stood back to his full imposing height then, yet fondly licking the residue of you off of his mouth as he did so.

“Both.” He answered simply.

And as he said that, another few flicks of his fingers had every button falling off of your shirt. Both his hands spread your shirt open after, before he started feeling across the newly exposed skin.

There were bruises across your torso of course, but also still those little reddened areas from Aokiji’s ice burns of earlier. You realized just how much attention Doflamingo was paying to every inch of it too, tracing any damage before he slid your bra up and out of the way to begin squeezing your soft breasts.

“Is the rumor about you and Aokiji true as well?” The pirate asked straight out of the blue however as he looked over the light burns. “He did seem to take special care with you.”

“What?” You almost stammered as your chest continued to be groped, even as you felt another shift in the level of danger. Doflamingo was abruptly more serious again.

And when you didn’t immediately answer him, those glasses were staring straight through you.

“You’ve fucked him too haven’t you?” He clarified, as if you were too slow to understand.

And of course you had known what he meant the first time. The question was why it suddenly mattered, and why you knew to your core that things would explode now if you lied to him.

“We did.” You answered quietly. This was something you never talked about. “Before Smoker. But it didn’t last.” And even then, you felt you had to say why. “He thought I was too young then.”

“I remember that,” Doflamingo actually admitted though, squeezing your breasts a little harder then. Almost to the point of being painful after your confession.

“The rookie that already knew haki. Another pain in the ass whenever Tsuru’s ship would roll up in one of my towns before I became a warlord. I lost a lot of soldiers to prisons throughout the North Blue because of you all.”

Yet he didn’t sound angry anymore over that part of it. And he just kept on. “But now with Smoker out of the picture…I wouldn’t be surprised if Aokiji tries you for another round. You’re all grown up and an officer after all. But too bad for him, I got here first…”

And as if to reiterate that point, Doflamingo leaned down and kissed you again without warning. But even with your bloody lip, it was still different than any one he’d given you before now. He wasn’t dominating this time. He wasn’t even forcing you. It was a real kiss as you finally allowed your tongue to reciprocate in complete surprise to yourself.

Because it actually felt so very good. Good enough that you even made a wanting sound, leaning into it a little more.

You wanted to be held then too. But his hands weren’t on your chest anymore. He was doing something with them, and you weren’t watching as you were living for this kiss in this moment with your eyes closed.

It didn’t take long however to realize the trade off that had already been made. Because you felt the pressure of his newly freed cock against your entrance soon after. That was what his hands had been doing, loosening his pants enough to free himself.

It was so sudden. And he didn’t give you the option of even a verbal refusal either. You just felt yourself stretch abruptly as the head pushed inside of you.

He had straightened up again by then, breaking the kiss as he did so. And whatever pathetic sound you made at the pain of penetration, had him only stroking his fingers across your hair and scalp as he kept pressing in further with his other arm snaking around your back to hold you to him.

“Good girl, let me in…” You heard him breathe as you continued to stretch. “Open up for me.”

He was the biggest you’d ever felt. But you refused to even look down, not wanting to see how disgustingly your poor skin would be pulled to tearing just to hold his girth inside of you.

“Relax.” He commanded again. Moving his hips ever so slowly as his skin slid against your inner walls, still going deeper.

When his tip finally bumped against your cervix, you heard him chuckle quietly as you tried to bury your face against him in the pain. “See?” He spoke in almost a whisper above you, so intimate now. “There’s the end. That’s as bad as it’ll be.” His fingers were still stroking your hair as well, like petting a wounded beast.

And even inside you then as deep as he could go, his hips still weren’t fully flush with yours. He was just that sizable. But that tightness clearly was pleasurable enough for him as he moaned a little already, starting to move his hips in a slow pumping motion.

It was maddening. Both torturous, but overwhelmingly erotic to be filled like you never had been before. Pleasure and pain shifting back and forth interchangeably as his thrusting began to quicken.

His breathing had changed too. You could hear the almost desperation in what was becoming more a panting sound as he let himself give in.

You even felt the strings start to loosen as he wanted to hold you more with his own hands. He had grabbed your legs behind the knees now, bidding you to wrap yourself around him as he picked you up.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). Come on. I want to hear you.” He said in the closest tone to begging that you thought anyone would ever hear from this man. All the while his hips kept pumping into you.

And it was the very first time he’d called you by name as well. Not bitch, not marine, not girl or woman. He was talking to you as he fucked you shamelessly. And he wanted the same attention in return.

“Doflamingo…” You finally said it too, holding on to him as the strings let go even more in response.

You felt so sore already, so it wasn’t easy to start to move your hips for him as well. But he groaned as soon as you did, his fingertips then digging possessively into your ass as you pumped up and down on his shaft while he stood there holding you.

You even felt a slight shudder go through him before he started to walk. Still inside of you, he carried you back to the center of the room and the metal table there before roughly setting you down on its edge.

His movements weren’t smooth at all by now. He was far too consumed as he forced you onto your back, your cunt still hanging off the table edge with his hard cock inside.

He loomed over you as he held your legs up against his torso and started thrusting so hard in and out again.

So much so that the table legs screeched as they shifted a few inches across the floor while you cried out.

He growled in pure satisfaction at your own sounds. But he wasn’t talking anymore. He was watching you as he fucked you, as if trying to commit your every tremble and whimper to memory.

Your exposed breasts were moving with your body as you panted for him. His fingernails dug into one of them, making you cry again as he shuddered once more.

It was only when he realized you’d turned your face away, that he grabbed you by the jaw to make you look at him again.

“You’re mine.” The words were almost animalistic when they left his throat. Only seconds before his orgasm overtook him and you got to see the proud Heavenly Demon bite his own lip, overwhelmed as his body absolutely trembled.

And to drive home that possessive declaration, he never even pulled out of you. You could feel the tell tale pulsing running up from the base of his cock instead as his seed released inside. He purposefully held his length in too, as deep as it could possibly go for your body to take in every drop of him that it could keep.

Only the overflow was sticky and warm as you felt it dripping out to run along your ass soon after. He was still watching you as it did too, a slick of sweat on his abdomen from the body heat the two of you had made.

You both stayed like that for what felt like the longest time too. Surviving in the little aftershocks and neither wanting to let go for a few minutes.

He was still panting too, before he leaned back down over you, finally letting his now softening cock slide back out with a wet sound.

And you didn’t resist as he kissed you again with your back still on the table. Even with the pressure of him finally removed from between your legs, it ached terribly as you felt the last of the strings detach from your skin as well.

He knew he didn’t need them to control you anymore.

It was actually you who was the first to speak though. Just staring into those emotionless glasses when the kisses finally stopped again. “What now?” You asked as you felt him touch your hair again.

He wasn’t smiling. But he was thinking. “It really would be a waste to kill you.” He eventually admitted. His fingers traced almost delicately across your throat next however.

“But I won’t tolerate you messing with my money again, do you understand? I’ll forget Charybdis this time. You can have it. Because it’s become more trouble than it’s worth now. But if you ever hear the name Joker again, keep your pretty head out of it.”

Your eyes widened just ever so slightly, realizing that your instincts had been correct all along then. He must have followed you down here to find out what you really knew. And to destroy the reports no doubt in case there was anything else in them that could come back to bite him.

Whatever lust he held for you was just a bonus. If it could be called that anyway.

“I don’t care about Joker,” You breathed in return, still with his hand touching you as you actually turned your face to move more into his palm. “If it wasn’t you, it just would have been the government instead. We knew that. We already let it go.”

He huffed slightly, but still ran his fingertip against your wounded lip in return. “Keep it that way then. Don’t make me ever regret sparing you. Because forgiveness won’t happen twice, even for you.”

With that he did back away, letting you sit up on the table at last.

And only then did you get to see his still wet cock as he grabbed it to begin tucking it back into his open pants. It wasn’t at its full glory any longer of course, soft now even with a visible vein running the length of it.

You did get the briefest glance of his impressive balls as well. Hung like a young bull almost before he’d pulled his pants back closed and started tying the drawstrings that held them around his waist.

“So you are a natural blond.” You mumbled tiredly, daring to smirk a little actually. You’d seen his short pubic hair around the base too. It looked like he’d shaved it recently and it was only just growing back a little. What a vain man.

“Heh.” He smiled lewdly, more back to his normal attitude then as he replied. “And I’ll expect you to kiss it next time.”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned despite yourself as you slid off the table back to standing. “Well I’m probably going to be arrested for treason and being a warlord fucker long before then.”

You couldn’t see his eyes, but his tone made it sound like they would be rolling at you now. “I told you I have more influence than you think. This room will be sealed and cleaned up as soon as we leave. They’ll say they misfiled your reports and that will be the end of it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. He’d put his pink feather coat back on now, and was just lingering with his hands in his pockets as he watched you also try to redress.

You’d pulled your bra back down and straightened it. Your skirt too before you’d buttoned your coat shut again as there was no way to close your shirt after he’d ripped the buttons off it earlier.

As you also regathered your weapon, you could only hope the cum still dripping out onto your thighs would remain contained in your skirt and coat until you could get to the showers and find a change of clothes.

It was him that spoke again though as he still watched you. “I wasn’t bullshitting earlier either. Just keep your friends off my ass and I’ll pull my strings literally and figuratively to get you promoted again soon enough.”

You glanced at him skeptically once more. “Just so you can have a high ranking marine in your pocket right?”

“Well of course. …And in my bed too.” At that he stuck his tongue out in a very vulgar gesture before laughing abruptly.

His legs were bent a little as he started to walk though, it looked funny until you realized he was trying to adjust himself. His still wet cock must have stuck to the inside of his pants.

You tried not to think just how bad the larger implications might be in the future though as you followed him back out into the stairwell. You were saving your own life, and likely some of Tsuru’s crew as well by keeping Joker’s identity under wraps for now.

But he’d expect this same level of cooperation ever after too, wouldn’t he? And likely even more before long. As you doubted anything would really stop here with an opportunistic man like this.

You had certainly fucked up today. But there was no redo to be had now.

Looking up the stairs, even your body thought you were an idiot in this moment. The accumulation of two fights, being frozen, and being fucked hard enough to still be hurting all the way into your cervix had worn you down as you thought just how many individual steps still lay ahead.

Doflamingo only hesitated one more time as he saw that tired expression on your face.

“I could help you, you know…” He teased as he levitated up a few floors instantly through the use of his strings.

You blinked, realizing he’d likely gotten to skip the stairs coming down as well. He could go up or down so easily.

“But then again-” He flipped to hang upside down briefly in the stairwell, clearly showing off for you. “No pain, no gain…right, my little marine?”

And before you could respond, he’d shot straight up the stairwell and out of sight with a deep, echoing laugh as his only memento while you were left staring.

“What a dick.” You grumbled to no one then as you started trudging slowly up the very first flight.

You deserved it though. Didn’t you?

———————————

T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

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umbrella-show · 4 months

Text

Yandere Vampire Mikey short

This was inspired by @yanteetle wonderful vampire Mikey art :) THIS IS IN NO WAY ROMANTICIZING OR APPROVING OF A ABUSIVE OR TOXIC RELATIONSHIP Warnings : Nonconsensual touching (nonsexual), brief mention of blood.

◤ ☆🦇 ˚🍷₊ ✞‧✧ ◥

Your stomach was tied into a sickening knot as your captors arms were firmly wrapped around your torso, hugging you tightly. His face was buried into your shoulder, his slow breathing the only sound in the room. Your entire body was stiff as you sat as still as a statue on the floor. A large blanket was draped over both of your bodies, though it barely kept you from shivering whenever he touched you. He suddenly moved to nuzzle his head into the side of your neck, a satisfied hum coming from him when you didn’t fight him. It wasn’t like you could, or wanted too after how upset he got when you did. Especially today.

Today was not a good day for him, and all he wanted was to cuddle up with his lovely partner. Maybe watch some Jupiter Jim or Luo Jitsu as he cuddles you. Or maybe doing something more productive, like art or cooking. Even though eating normal food didn’t do much for him anymore, he just wanted something that would involve spending time with you. At least, that’s what he wanted to do with you when he came back from patrol with his brothers. Except, you weren’t as compliant as he hoped. Sure, you were never fully compliant when it came to his hugs and giving you affection. And he somewhat understands why you’re so rowdy. He did trap you in the sewers, under the city you had grown up in, and was basically isolating you from the outside world. But you should have been happy that it was him doing it. Your best friend. Your lover. Your everything. Instead, you insisted on fighting him. Grimacing when he gave you a kiss on the cheek. Squirming when he tried to hug you. It wasn’t fair. He gave you everything. He made your favorite foods everyday, he spent quality time with you. The whole reason you’re safe and sound in his home is because he cares and loves you. You never did this the first couple of months of when you two were together. You used to love his affection, his touch, his love. Now you were just being selfish. You didn’t appreciate how much he did for you. So sometimes he had to force you to accept his love. Like what he was doing now.

His cold and hard plastron pressing uncomfortably against your back as he hugged you tightly. You could feel the cold scrape of his fangs on your shoulder, making you flinch. A slight giggle came from him when he witnessed your reaction.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to have just one eensy weensy bite right? After all, I’ve been thirsty all day while being out on patrol.”

His hand came up to slowly run through your hair, the action doing nothing to soothe your stiff figure as you felt his breath against your shoulder. He gave your shoulder a gentle kiss before opening his mouth and sinking his fangs into your it. You harshly flinched as you felt the skin break, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of your muscles painfully burning from the stress of Mikey’s bite. He was obviously trying to make this as agonizing as possible as he continued to feed until you felt dizzy and nauseous. Time felt like it slowed, seconds feeling like minutes. Your vision swam when he finally brought his head away to lick your blood off his lips, watching with interest as instinctively leaned back against him for support. His arms tightened around you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you soon fell unconscious from blood loss.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #yandere rottmnt #x reader #tmnt #save rottmnt #unpause rottmnt #rottmnt mikey

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nekrosdolly · 6 months

Text

albert wesker hcs pt.2 (re1-re5) (18+)

a/n; overall headcanons for whiskers himself! both nsfw and sfw, mostly nsfw. these are just my opinions and if they're ooc, i'm sorry. i'd like to say that im so down bad it's horrible and laughable. probably my longest post yet my computer is killing itself.

cw; nsfw content (i.e. kink talk, genitalia discussions and descriptions, mentions of dubcon and CNC, collaring mentions, cockwarming, impact play, light bondage, bdsm themes, dom/sub relationship)

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ hex codes ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

applies to all variants

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - overall skintone is #F6E5DE

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - his eyes are #adcfe6

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - his cock starts with #f6e5de, fades to #F1D8CD. tip is #ffc8b5.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - his hair (pubes included) is #F0E2B6

₊˚⊹♡size and habits ₊˚⊹♡

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - he's 8" in length, definitely can't close your fingers around it. thick vein on the underside.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - 6'2 in height, more lean than muscular. towers over most.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - definitely well groomed. not very hairy in general, thus he doesn't have very much hair to groom. cuts his hair (in the bathroom by himself mind you) every month.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - re1 eats as needed, the healthy 3 times a day, and plenty of water to stay on top of his game. re5 doesn't have the need to eat or drink. he's no longer 100% human and his appetite diminished within months of taking doses of Uroboros.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - reads a lot when he's not working. non-fiction, science-based literature to expand his knowledge. his wits came naturally, sure, but that doesn't mean he can't maintain them. at home, when he's truly by himself, he doesn't wear his sunglasses. he has an actual prescription pair that's a similar style to his sunglasses, just without the tint.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - his guilty pleasures are romance novels. the vampire kind, specifically. he finds them entertaining though he often makes fun of the cheesier ones. when he stumbles across the occasional good one, he rereads it over and over again until he's worn out the spine.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - he drinks wine. not one for beer, truthfully, but will drink some here and there. whiskey is his second choice.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙kinks⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

୨୧ - (re1) at the beginning of your relationship, he'll only do something if you ask him to. he's never thought much about sexual exploration given his long, *long* history of solitude. he refuses to do anything that might injure you- knifeplay, gunplay, impact play (light or hard), etc. sure, he'll tie you up if you ask, he doesn't mind. he plays into your desires.

୨୧ - (re1) the more he researches, the more he finds he likes. he buys some ribbon to bind you with- the flimsy kind you can get out of quickly should you need to. he loves pink on you. he only binds your wrists together, nothing too intense. maybe he blindfolds you, uses a toy on you, or overstimulates you. consent checks regularly, as well. you use safewords should you need them.

୨୧ - (re5) fully established kinks. he's less human and less rational, but he knows to respect your boundaries. he leaves bite marks all over you and demands that you don't cover them up with makeup or clothing. he likes owning you. you're given a collar, of which you can put on or take off as you please, but during which you are fully submissive to him and whatever he wants you to do.

୨୧ - (re5) consensual nonconsensual (cnc) is his favorite. of course, you have to be wearing your collar for him to take advantage of you. safewords are a must for the both of you. he's never submissive, definitely a hard dom. he doesn't feel the need for knives or guns, but he does love impact play. loves shutting up your bratty mouth by slapping you and manhandling you. he's switched to handcuffs instead of ribbon if he deems them necessary.

୨୧ - (re5) since Uroboros has diminished his humanity by a good chunk, he's more animalistic towards you. aside from marking you up, he's obsessed with breeding. adores cumming inside you until you're leaking it. he knows you love it just as much as he does. at some point, it becomes routine. "such a slut. can't go a day without being fucked full of cum." he degrades you lightly, nothing that would genuinely hurt. simple things i.e slut, whore, toy, doll, dumb, stupid, etc.

༘⋆✿ favorite positions ༘⋆✿

๋࣭ ⭑ - (re1) he likes seeing your face. he loves watching your face twist and contort with the pleasure he gives you. adores being able to see all of you, all of what he does to you. eye contact drives him crazy. if you're blindfolded, he won't finish until you're done. he'll ask if he can take your blindfold off between kisses to your face.

๋࣭ ⭑ - missionary is a must. your first time with each other is missionary- the romantic first time you'd see in movies where he takes his time to make you feel valued. the lotus position is another one he likes if you're going to be on top. he's okay with you riding him too, if you really want, but he'd prefer to be the one in control.

๋࣭ ⭑ - if you both aren't feeling sex, he loves getting you off by having you sit on his face or using his fingers on you. he doesn't need anything in exchange either. he's found that he doesn't like receiving head, as he finds it to be degrading towards you, and that's the last thing he wants. but if you insist, he allows it. he mutters praises as you take him down to the base, swallowing around him in an attempt to not gag.

๋࣭ ⭑ - mutual masturbation is something he's weak for. he loves watching your hand try to fit around him as you stroke his cock so eagerly, his fingers buried in your weeping entrance.

๋࣭ ⭑ - (re5) he prefers less intimacy, not like how he used to. he thinks it's too human, something he's made quite clear that he's not anymore. he'll fuck you just about anywhere. he prefers doggy with his arm around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold. bonus points if you beg him to breed you in this position.

๋࣭ ⭑ - what he gets, he'll give. you give him head, something he's come to enjoy, he'll give you head with the same enthusiasm.

๋࣭ ⭑ - cockwarming is a must. prefers it while he's either reading or working at his desk. sometimes, he'll make you read to him and thrust up into you occasionally so you stumble over your words. when he gets impatient, he pins you down and fucks into you until he comes at least twice inside of you.

๋࣭ ⭑ - wearing your collar? he'll fuck you while you're cuddling. spooning is preferred, but whether you're sitting on his lap, lying on top of him, or him on top of you, he's putting his cock inside you. very rarely does he do slow and soft, but if you're both tired, he'll be careful with you. he loves sitting you in his lap, his forceful grip on your hips, and moving you like a ragdoll. superhuman strength pays off in situations like this. his fingertips leave bruises that make his cock twitch whenever he sees them.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ pet names ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

𓆩♡𓆪 - (re1) calls you darling, dearest, dear, little dove, dove. adores praising you and could for days on end. (i.e. "that's it, dear, you're doing so well for me. are you alright? should i stop?)

𓆩♡𓆪 - (re5) calls you pet, dear, bunny, darling, slut, whore, dolly. praises and degrades you. (i.e. "what a good fucking whore, taking my cock so well. you were made for taking my cock, my personal whore. i'm going to ruin you for anyone else." )

#bunny's headcanons ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ ｡꒱ྀི১ #bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡#resident evil headcanons #albert wesker headcanons #albert wesker smut #albert wesker x reader #resident evil #albert wesker #resident evil fanfiction #albert wesker i love youuuu #writing #resident evil smut #sorry this is so long #im down horrendous

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xaeethebaee · 1 year

Note

baji nsfw hcs? I love urs they’re so funny 😭💗

MINORS! DNI! 18+ FOLKS ONLY!

Thank you so much for being my very first request! I'll try my absolute best to not disappoint, Anon Love!

What's it like to date Baji Keisuke? This Headcanon obviously will contain some NSFW material, fluff, and a little bit of angst.

Warnings: Mean Dom Baji, subreader, very mild blood play, nonconsensual video sharing, and a very subtle hint at sadism

A/n: I know there are a million of these, so hopefully this gives a different take. Also please keep in mind that this is strictly referring to ADULT KEISUKE BAJI!

Let's start with the fluffy parts of your relationship with him!

He’s not very affectionate at first as the most you'll get out of him is hand-holding and maybe brief hugs here and there

He does show other ways of showing his affection for you like randomly kissing your forehead, biting your hand as he holds it, and calling you a cute pet name - Kitten (though it's not always used in a cute way)

He also bites you to mark territory, so he is somewhat possessive

PLEASE play in his hair since your touches are gentle and relaxing to him. It's also the best way to put him to sleep!

Just let him rest his head on your lap and he'll be dozing off in minutes!

It's extra special knowing you are the only person who he'll allow to touch his hair

Style it if you'd like too and he won't mind going to Toman meetings with that hairstyle because everyone knows not to tease him for it. It's also because it is one of his ways of showing everyone who he belongs to.

He does sometimes struggle with having a conversation with you because he does not want to frighten you. That means he tends to avoid talking about his gang-related activities though, it does not stop him from showing up at your place in need of some first aid.

He is the most vulnerable during those moments too. In fact, it is the only time he tells you how much he loves you

It goes without saying that Baji is VERY protective of you

You're never allowed to walk alone at night and go to unfamiliar places. He is either walking with you or he has Chifuyu or Kazutora to accompany you (I'm going to do a headcanon of how the rest of Toman and Baji's mom treats you as his gf in a different post since there is so much to talk about)

Circling back to the biting thing, you two get playful with each other. Wave your finger in his face and he will playfully bite at it.

Baji gives you enough time to move your finger however the times when he does bite it (thankfully not hard enough to hurt) he won't let go

Once you do free your finger from his teeth, he will present the most adorable pout. That moment makes Baji fall in love with you all over again when he sees you smile because of your cute moment with him

You two can keep doing that for over an hour and it still won't get boring

Here are a few not-so-fun aspects of being Baji's girlfriend

He. Wins. EVERY. SINGLE. ARGUMENT!

it does not matter what you two were arguing about, he wins every time because he gets so terrifying (mf has anger issues after all)

Baji can be demanding sometimes whether it is intentional or not.

he has a very bad habit of not saying 'please' or 'thank you' when he asks you to do something for him

prepare for random impulsive actions from him. Most of the time, it is funny but the few times when it is not is because someone got hurt

He's a thieving pyromaniac. Basically, he sometimes steals your things and burns them for no apparent reason.

Usually, he is perceptive enough to tell which of your items you no longer need or use but it is still a mild annoyance

On to what y'all really want to see: the NSFW material!

Remember the pet name, Kitten? There are times when he uses the pet name in a more predatory manner

when he is horny, he basically will see you as his prey that he can devour so he will typically use it before or during sex

it doesn't matter what time of day it is, Baji will send you dirty messages when he feels like it

Baji: send me a pic of ur tits

You: My day has been going well. Thanks for asking.

Baji: then I'll fuck u violently ❤

Baji definitely has a size kink

he knows he is not the tallest however he also knows that he exudes an intimidating aura. That aura makes you feel small (even if you're taller than him) He loves to see the effect his aura has on you. (cheeky bastard)

He ALWAYS initiates sex

You know when he is in the mood because he touches your thighs more. Also, sometimes he'll just blurt out: "I wanna fuck."

don't worry because Baji is typically in the mood when you are as well

MEAN DOM!

those backshots are RUTHLESS!

when in missionary, he does have his hand over your neck and he squeezes it (though you'll still be able to breathe normally)

Despite being a mean dom, Baji does prioritize your satisfaction, so he is a Mean Service Dom lol

he takes eating you out very seriously to the point where his hair is tied into a ponytail before he goes down

those tongue strokes get your legs shaking every time. Yes, he makes you squirt too but don't think that is going to make him stop

the guy LOVES to overstimulate you sometimes

Giving him head is messy because the dude has a very peculiar habit of bucking his hips so he goes deeper down your throat. He may be a slight sadist because he likes watching you choke harder on his length

Don't forget, he's still a BITER during sex too so expect those fangs going in the skin of your neck and shoulders. Sometimes, he draws blood but it is always an accident. He'll lick the blood off though

Baji can last a while during sex but once he cums, he's done (obviously he will make sure you are thoroughly satisfied too)

estimate between 30 minutes to an hour (including foreplay)

As rough as he is, he can also be just as gentle. Sometimes, he just needs slow and romantic love-making, and generally, that happens after you've been such a good partner to him

He does record part of your sessions (with your permission of course) and it is mostly when he is fucking you from behind

He will never share it with anyone (except for Mitsuya and don't ask why and you don't know about that 🥴)

he keeps the recording in his phone for 'self-service' reasons

His aftercare is getting better with time

at first, all you got was a half-assed swipe from a towel but now you're starting to get the princess treatment by being carried to the bathroom. Though he will forget you are bathing and he goes to sleep, so you're just left in the warm bath water waiting for Baji to help you out

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[I hope you Lovelies enjoyed. I really tried my best to bring a different take to Baji. Fun fact, (like so many people) I started watching Tokyo Revengers for Baji! Somehow, I ended up simping for Shinichiro of all people lol.]

[Requests are always open. My only thing is that I won't accept requests for any Non-Con/R scenes and scenarios.]

#tokyo revengers hanma #tokyorevengers #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers manga #baji keisuke #keisuke baji #baji x reader #keisuke baji headcanons #baji headcanons #baji hcs

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mermaidgirl30 · 4 months

Text

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Chapter 3: How Wonderful Life Is While You’re In the World✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I hope you are enjoying our Moulin Rouge au that me and @mountainsandmayhem have created! Cheers to another chapter and please let us know how you liked it ❤️

Chapter Summary: Your feelings for Joel are growing faster than you imagined, but you have to deal with Terrance. The man you can’t stand to be alone with. Will Joel be able to save you or will you have to suffer alone while he watches helplessly?

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Word Count: 10.2k

Chapter Tags: Reader buys a new dress, mutual pining, feelings, smut, oral receiving (fem), secret date, angst, desire, longing, Joel teaches reader guitar, reader shows Joel how to dance, reader is a sex worker who’s put in a position from Terrance and his friends that involves nonconsensual touching so please read at your own risk

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Even though you’ve calmed down a bit, you practically stomp back to your room as your high heels dig deep into the floor. You’re feeling every single emotion that you can possibly feel right now. Obviously mad after the screaming match with your uncle, but also sad and scared about what you have to do with Terrance. Not scared in the way most would be, that some man they don’t know is about to own you and your body completely, but scared to lose Joel. That kiss is still burning on your lips and your body is aching for more of him. Worst of all, you’re scared for your heart. Your poor battered heart. You’ve ignored it for years, and right when you open it up it’s about to be absolutely obliterated.

When you open your bedroom door, you see Joel under your sink replacing the pipes. This might be your only chance to be alone with him again. A little voice inside your head tells you to be selfish, just this once. So you listen.

You saunter over to him and hover above him, one foot on each side of his body as you smirk down at him flirtatiously.

He turns his head slightly and smiles warmly as he sees you standing above him. “Whatcha doin’ up there, darlin’?” Joel asks, grunting as he tightens the pipes.

You slowly lower your knees to the ground, hiking the skirt of your dress up as you sink down to hover right above his lap. “I wasn’t expecting you,” you say seductively.

He glances out at you as his eyebrow raises high on his forehead. “I can’t, in good conscience, have you in a room without working water, baby.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” you giggle, “where did you even get the parts or -” You cock your head slightly to be able to see his face and wave your hand around under the sink.

His hand lightly circles your wrist and he moves it out from the cabinet chuckling slightly. “I’m working here, baby girl. There’s an empty room down the hall. I took them from there, and I’ll replace them tomorrow.”

You're silent for a while as you straighten your neck to look at the edge of your countertop. The bitter biting feeling floods your thoughts as no one has ever treated you like this, gone out of their way to fix something for you. But Joel does. He’s probably exhausted, but he’s here, happy to be here in fact, fixing something for you, so you can have basic comforts. Pushing his own comfort of sleep aside for you.

He puts the wrench down gently on the ground, keeping his eyes fixed on the pipes above him. “Everything okay out there?” he asks as he continues tightening the loose pipes.

You shouldn’t be doing this. You can’t be with him, but fuck you need him. You know he’d treat you properly, but you also know that as of tomorrow you belong to fucking Terrance. You bite your lip nervously and decide you can’t go the rest of your life not having this moment with Joel. He can’t possibly feel the same way you do, it’s illogical of you to say that you’re in love with a man you don’t even know yet. Joel seems level headed, he’ll just think he got a night like you give to everyone else. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he tried to pay you after.

You swirl your hips, just grazing against his hardening cock as you moan at the thought of having him. “Yes,” you whisper.

He sucks in a breath and moves his hands to your thighs as you feel his calloused fingers brush lightly over your exposed legs. “Careful, baby girl.”

You grind down harder, hands falling to the bottom of his shirt as you slide your fingers up along his soft, warm skin. You say his name with a moan. Joel lifts you slightly and slides his body down between your thighs.

“No,” you whine, already missing the feeling of his bulge pressing against your needy center.

Joel continues sliding down until his face is in line with your pussy. He looks up at you, his lust filled eyes blowing out as they meet yours.

Fuck, he’s beautiful.

“Don’t whine, darlin’. I got you, if that’s what you want.”

“Please, Joel.” It comes out airy and breathy, much needier than you intended. Your breaths are coming in rapidly as you cup one of your breasts in your hands, desperate for any sort of touch you can get.

Joel traces a thick finger up your inner thigh slowly as your body writhes with anticipation. “Sshhh, sweet girl. Relax.”

“I can’t,” you whine, your body twitching with every little touch he gives you. “Please Joel, I need you.”

Joel moves your skirt out of the way, his fingers finding the center of your wet panties, lightly tracing up and down your slit. The fabric is soaked and his touch is causing more slick to build between your thighs. Joel is growing painfully hard, the zipper of his work pants pressing into his cock that’s already fully hard for you. Joel Miller is a lover though, and that’s exactly what he plans to do. To love you, to show you just how a man should treat someone as beautiful as you.

“Relax,” he says with encouragement. “You can do it. Take a deep breath, baby.”

He continues his ministrations, adding just a bit more pressure as he slides his thumb against your aching clit. You cry out with a plea and then follow along with what he says. You close your eyes and take a slow, deep inhale, releasing your breath as everything seems to go quiet around you. You don’t have a single thought or any emotion, there’s nothing in this room aside from you and Joel but thick tension that sits in the air. As the trembling in your body slows, you soften around him, letting out a deep moan that seems to set you on fire.

“That’s my girl,” Joel praises.

You smile a look down at him, just able to see his blown out pupils from in between your thighs. You take another breath while holding his gaze, seeing his amber eyes start to glaze over into deep black pits. You’ve never been looked at quite like that before. It’s not lust, it’s something much, much more. You return the look at him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop a smile from breaking the surface.

“Darlin’?” Joel asks, his voice deeper now, more sensual.

“Yeah?”

“Grab onto the edge of the sink with both your hands.”

You keep eye contact, raising one eyebrow before reaching up and wrapping both hands around the sink. The steel of the sink is cold, it only helps draw you deeper into the heat of Joel’s body, his mouth just a hair away from your clothed core. Your panties are soaked through with your arousal after he teased you with his finger.

“Good girl,” he growls. The heat of his breath hits your clit and you cry out just a little, hips bucking towards his face as your clit drags against the edge of his hooked nose, causing you to cry out again in awe. You manage to regain your composure, Joel’s thumb hooking your panties and pulling them to the side hurriedly. “So gorgeous, baby. You tell me if you want me to stop, got it?”

“Oh my God, Yes. Yes, just please - please, I need it.”

“I’m gonna give it to ya, darlin’. Hold on tight,” he instructs with a deep growl.

Joel dives in like you’re his oxygen and he’s fucking drowning in your air. He has always liked doing this, making women feel good with his experienced tongue. It feels sensual and intimate to get to see someone like this, to have them trust him like this. But with you, he really fucking loves it. The feel and taste of your sweet arousal on his tongue is euphoric to him, angelic. If he was on death row, he’d ask for this for his very last meal.

You cry out loudly as his tongue expertly teases your clit, alternating between tight circles with the tip of his tongue to long, flat licks. Your arousal leaks down his throat, and he swallows you down eagerly as he tastes the honey-like flavor hit his tastebuds. He moans loudly as he licks and licks, sending warm sparks up your lower regions.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you repeat his name over and over like a holy prayer, and your orgasm builds faster than you thought possible. He pulls away for a second, bringing two thick fingers up to your wet folds as he slides them back and forth slowly. He moves them up and down teasingly, coating his fingers with your sweet juices.

“Can I put my fingers inside of you, baby girl?” His voice is full of lust. Hot, hungry, needy.

“Yes,” you say quickly, “yes, please, Mr. Miller.”

“Let me hear you say it,” he instructs, his deep breath coming out scratchy and so fucking hot.

You bite your bottom lip as you taste your cherry flavored chapstick. You’re good at teasing men, doing things for them, but not for you. And now Joel wants you tell him what you want, and it shouldn’t be so fucking hard.

“You can do it, just say the words.” His fingers are still lazily running along you, slowly teasing as he makes more slick run down your center.

“I - I want…” your cheeks flush and you throw your head back in mere frustration. Why the fuck can’t you just ask for what you want? Why was that so difficult for you?

Joel can sense your frustration, or perhaps discomfort with the situation. He stops what he’s doing and softly says, “Hey, look at me, baby.” When you look down his face is soft, big brown eyes staring up at you. “You don’t have to say it if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m sorry if I pushed you, but you don’t have to hold back from me. Anything you want, ask. Ask and I’ll do it.”

You swallow hard. You’re in love, so very out of this world in love, and this is your only chance to do something about it. You can’t spend the rest of your life with Terrance regretting not saying a few simple words. You have to do this. Say it.

Your eyes dance around Joel’s face before you whisper, “I want your fingers, please. I need them inside of me.”

Joel lets out a deep moan and growls, fuuuuuuck.

He latches his mouth to your clit again, gently pushing his index finger into the sensitive entrance of your needy pussy as you writhe in pleasure. He pushes his fingertips slowly in and out a few times before pushing it all the way in, hooking his fingers up into that spongy area that sends you gasping for breath. You moan loudly, one hand falling from the sink to grab his tousled curls. The second you make contact with his head everything stops - his fingers are gone, mouth pulled off your clit with a loud pop.

“No!” you cry, needing him to continue as your insides ache for him.

“I said to grab onto the edge of the sink with both hands,” he demands, his eyes narrowing up at you.

You shakily move your hands back to the sink.

“Be my good girl and keep them there, understand?” The lust filling his eyes and deep gravel in his voice are almost enough to make you come.

“Yes,” you coo, leaning forward to get closer to his mouth.

“You let go, and I’ll stop.”

Your back arches more, trying desperately to get the attention that you think you might die without. Joel moves in again, lapping at your clit before sliding two fingers all the way inside you. You're tight and warm around his fingers and he has to remind himself to slow down, be gentle with you. He wants you to savor it just as much as he wants to savor you.

He curls his fingers inside you and he feels your pussy flutter slightly, he knows you're close. You squeeze your eyes tightly, gripping the edge of the sink like it’s the only thing keeping you alive.

“There she goes,” he says, “let me see it, baby.”

Your moans turn desperate, but you aren’t sure what you’re more desperate for. If you come he’s going to stop, you aren’t sure if you want him to stop, but fuck do you need to come. Your walls start to flutter around Joel’s fingers again, feeling that warm sensation building in your spine.

“Show me,” he praises, “be my good girl.”

That’s what does it, the sparks in your belly radiate out to every limb. The waves of pleasure weaken all your muscles. You feel your arms giving out, but there’s no way you’re going to let go of that sink. Screams and moans fill your room, “F-fuck, Joel. Oh, fuck.”

He praises you as you shamelessly grind your hips down onto his face. “You’re so fucking perfect. Take it, baby girl.”

Before the pleasure becomes overstimulating, Joel slows his fingers inside you and pulls his tongue away from your swollen bundle of nerves. He works his fingers slowly, placing an occasional light kiss to your pussy and slowly you start to come back down to earth.

You’re trying to catch your breath as Joel slides out from under you and then scoops you up into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, breathing him in as he walks you towards your bed. He places you down gently, one of his big hands coming to cup behind your head until it lands softly on your pillow, and he covers you with a soft fleece blanket. No one has ever tucked you in before, at least not that you can remember. A simple act, filled with so much love and tenderness. You reach out for Joels hand, and he doesn’t hesitate to grab onto you.

“Stay,” you whisper, suddenly desperate for his warmth.

“I’ll get fired, darlin’,” he whispers sadly, sitting down on the edge of your bed carefully. You roll onto your side and move close to him, reaching one of your arms out as you grab onto his wrist.

“Stay,” you repeat again, your eyelids starting to become heavier as the weight of your orgasm takes its toll on you.

He places a light kiss on your temple and whispers gently, “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

You melt into his kiss, lips tasting like coffee and sunshine. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

He brushes your hair back, and one finger trails down the bridge of your nose lightly. You close your eyes, a little smile lifting your lips. “I would love that, baby girl. You can teach me how to use that pottery wheel.”

A small ‘okay’ leaves your lips as he kisses your forehead again. “Go to sleep, my love.” And so you do, drifting off to sleep with the brush of his calloused fingers running along your upper arm and his smooth lips trailing kisses against your cheekbone.

You wake up to sunshine on your skin and the feeling of fresh slick between your legs. Dreams of Joel invaded your sleep last night, and all you could think of was his warm tongue sliding up and down your drenched center. You blush at the images that paint your mind and look over to the other side of your bed. You frown when you realize Joel isn’t here, but he did stay till you fell asleep. You wish he could’ve stayed the entire night, holding you in his strong arms, drinking up his mahogany scent that haunts your memories. You want him here, need him here, but he said he couldn’t stay. He said he’d be fired.

Why would he be fired? Your uncle said you could have anything. And you want Joel. You want him. He couldn’t be fired, he wouldn’t be. Unless…. unless your uncle gave him strict orders that he couldn’t touch the dancers, that he couldn’t touch you. Would your uncle really do that? You’re starting to realize he would.

A light knock on the door shakes you out of bed, and you pull on a long pink robe and tie it in a tight bow. You pace over to your large door and open it up to find your uncle leaning up against the doorway with a huge grin on his face. He barges right in and brushes past your shoulder as you close the door behind him and turn his direction.

“Today’s the day, petal!” he almost yells as his green eyes beam down at you with a stupid grin that takes over his wrinkled features.

“Today’s the day?” you ask confused, then suddenly realize what he’s so jolly about.

“Terrance! Remember? He’s going to be here this evening, and he expects to see you,” he replies, eyes gazing into yours as you nearly revolt against his wishes.

“Oh, right…” you say quietly as the weight of his words settle in on you. Maybe when you’re eighteen, you can join them. The words make you sick, make you want to push him in the chest and tell him no. You want to scream, throw your lit up lamp across the room and watch the glass shatter into a million pieces, but you can’t. You can’t.

Your uncle places his hand under your chin and lifts your eyes up to his. “Now, now. Don’t be like that, petal. He’s paying us well. The Moulin Rouge is saved. We don’t have to worry anymore,” he encourages as he smiles down at you with enthusiasm spilling over his tongue.

He’s paying us well. The words sound like long nails running down a rusted chalkboard, filling the room with a deafening noise as you cringe at the words. He was not the one being sold to Terrance, you were. You were the one that had to entertain this man for God knows how long. It was you that had to pretend, not your uncle.

“He’ll be here around 7:00pm sharp. I want you down there no later than that, understand?” he asks as he looks over you slowly, making sure you don’t make a fuss.

“I’ll be there, uncle. If I must,” you say with a slight huff, trying to keep your spirits up for him.

“Here,” he hands you a crisp one hundred dollar bill and places it in your hand as the material crinkles together under your touch. “Go buy yourself something nice. Maybe a pretty dress for Terrance. His favorite color is red.” He places a light kiss to your forehead then pads off to the door, leaving the room feeling hollow and empty as his footsteps trail down the hallway. You stand there gawking at his vacant shadow.

Go buy yourself something nice? His favorite color is red? Who the fuck does he think he is?

The words make you feel cheap, the money makes you feel used, dirty. You don’t want the money. You want to run out of the room and throw it back at him, make him regret ever selling you to a rich prick who only wants you for your body. You don’t want to fucking do this anymore! But what choice do you have? The deal had already been made…

You throw your hand out and hit the wall hard as pain radiates down your arm like fire running through your nerves. You wince and shake it out, letting the pain simmer away as you walk into your lit up pink bathroom and run the shower water, staring at yourself in the mirror until your face is lost in fog. How poetic, you think to yourself.

You peel off your robe and let it land in a heap on the floor, stepping into the heat as you let the scalding water cascade down your porcelain skin, washing away the scent of regret and anger. You lather the shampoo through your long locks, run the citrus soap over the entirety of your body until it drowns you, rinsing it off as you watch it run down the drain in swirling colors brighter than your own future.

After sulking in the shower for nearly half an hour, you dry your body off with a fleece towel and throw on a soft pretty flamingo colored dress. You dry and curl your hair, applying red lipstick to your soft lips and mascara to your long lashes.

You take a second to look at yourself in the mirror, examining every feature as you see sadness in the soft glow of your eyes, holding back tears as you hold your chin up and wipe away a distant tear. Time for you to take a walk.

You close up your room as you shove the hundred dollar bill into your scarlet purse, feeling dirty for even having it in your grasp. You shake your head and walk down the lit up halls of the Moulin Rouge, passing some dancers as you saunter out the front doors and into the sunlight.

You let the glow of the sun warm your cold soul, let it fill you with ease as you walk down the crowded streets to one of your favorite dress shops. As soon as you step in, you’re met with a busy seamstress and a batch of dresses that hang loosely over manicans and display on long hangers.

“Anything I can help you find, miss?” the petite blonde asks as you enter the store.

“Just looking around for the moment,” you say as you gaze around at all the colorful, fancy dresses.

“Just let me know if you need anything,” she says as she turns back to the cash register.

You pace around the room, trailing your hand on various types of fabrics as you circle the large shop. The colors go from deep purples to ombré to bright shades of yellow. Almost any color you can imagine fills the room, giving you a ton to choose from. It’s almost overwhelming.

You see a long, luxurious dress that sits in the middle of the room. It’s a deep crimson color, one that Terrance would probably kill to see you in. You roll your eyes and walk past it, you’re not getting that one.

You look through the rack of dresses, assessing each one as none of them stick out at you. You’re about to give up when you turn and see a deep blue colored dress that sits displayed behind a hidden curtain. You pull it back and gasp at the beautiful dress that seems to call your name.

The dress is as blue as the depths of the sea, the fabric of the skirt reaching the floor as a long slit divides the left corner of the dress, leaving an opening to show off your long legs in. It’s sleeveless, and the material making up the low cut front shimmers against the glistening sun. It’s absolutely perfect. You think Joel might love this, might run his fingers up the slit to feel the smooth skin of your leg, might lose his voice while he mulls over how it fits your curves, might want to rip it off you so he can see what’s underneath…

Without another thought you take the dress to the counter, taking out what feels like hush money and pay for the dress. The dressmaker wraps it in a nice box for you, and you grab the handle and step out into the sunshine. You know you should go back, but the walk here helped clear your mind and you aren’t ready to go back and face your future quite yet. You spin the opposite direction of the Moulin Rouge and come face to face with the one man you want nothing more than to be with. Joel.

“Hi,” he says, blushing slightly.

You bite your cheek to stop from smiling, he’s so fucking beautiful that it almost hurts. “Hi.”

“Whatcha got there?” he asks, nodding towards the box in your arms.

“Oh no no, the Sparkling Diamond never reveals her secrets,” you smirk, curling your red lips up into a playful smile.

“I’ll tell you a secret of mine if you let me peek in that box.”

You stare at him for a second contemplating. Joel Miller is definitely flirting with you.

“You go first,” you say with a giggle.

He steps into you, placing his large palm on the small of your back, his lips close to your ear and whispers, “You were beautiful coming apart on my tongue last night.”

You feel your cheeks and chest redden at his confession, and your clit twitches with the memory of how he felt lapping at your center. You’ve had all sorts of sexual experiences before, but he seemed to know exactly where to touch you without any help. That was the first time in a long time that you didn’t feel like you were going to have to fake an orgasm.

He steps back and taps the box, and you generously open it a little as his eyes widen. “Wow, that's, wow.”

You smile to yourself triumphantly. He’s already speechless, and it’s still in the box. “What are you doing here?”

“I just live right over there,” he says as he points to an old brick building. “I was running some errands before my shift tonight.”

“You’re coming to see me after, right?” you ask shyly, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him. He seems to melt at the weight of your eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, darlin’,” he replies, lowering his voice and adds, “especially if you’re going to be in that fucking dress.”

You gasp at his words. That fucking dress. “Guess you’re going to have to come find me to find out then,” you wink, flashing him your best smile. He smiles back, and it sends warmth flooding through your lower regions.

“You busy now? I could show you my place, if you’d like,” he says shyly, running a hand through his tousled curls as crimson flashes across his cheeks.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

You flick your eyes up to the tall brick building and contemplate your options. You want to, you really want to, but you can’t. You need to get back to the Moulin Rouge and get ready to meet your awful date.

You sigh and shake your head sadly. “I’d love to, Joel. I really would, but I have to get back. I have a busy day.” You see his Adam’s Apple bob up and down, and you want so badly to run your fingers through his hair and press your lips up against his. Sooth him over. Not here though. Not where your uncle or Terrance could see.

“Another time then?” Joel asks with a hopeful glance your way.

You nod in response. “Another time.”

He grazes his hand against yours and discreetly entwines his fingers with yours. It feels so good, so safe, so right. You can’t wait till the night is over, until you can be in Joel’s arms again. That’s where you belong, where you want to be.

You slowly squeeze his hand and then let go, letting your fingers fall to your side against your silky dress. “I need to go. I’ll see you tonight, handsome.”

“Tonight,” he promises. With that you turn and go back to your demise, to the Moulin Rouge.

Joel arrives at the burlesque twenty minutes before his shift. He sneaks in the back door and tucks his guitar away in the maintenance closet and then goes to find Edward. He finds him at the front, in the same pressed, crisp suit from last night. He’s greeting men with enthusiastic handshakes and seems happier overall tonight.

“Joel!” He calls from across the hall, “great to see you, son.”

Joel gives him a tight lipped smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading over to Edward. The men who turned their noses up to him the other night glare sideways at him. He still can’t believe that he’s considered the scum in this place.

“We are using the VIP area tonight after the Sparkling Diamond performs. It hasn’t been used in a while. Can you go up there and check the lighting, make sure the tables and chairs are set up? Also need someone to help the bartender bring up everything.”

His throat tightens at the thought of you having to be up in that room with some of these men. He replies through gritted teeth, “Of course, sir.”

He wanders up one of the spiral staircases off the main dance floor, men clamouring around trying to get the best seat before the girls come out for them to grab at. The VIP area overlooks the burlesque, there’s a private booth along the back with a curtain that the guests can draw closed. Bile rises in his throat at the thought of you being back there, but he knows what you do for work, and even though he knows that he’s madly and wildly in love with you. But it doesn’t mean that you feel the same way. You invited him over tonight, you sat on his lap last night, so he’ll take this at your speed and maybe one day he can get you out of here.

The two tables along the shiny black railing have chairs tipped up on them, so he flips them and places them on the ground neatly. He tests to make sure the tables aren’t wobbly before moving over to the private bar and picking up a knocked over stool.

“Are there any thirsty gents out there tonight?” Edward’s voice booms over the burlesque. Men cheer and whoop in anticipation. “Get ready boys, a little teaser with the Diamonds before your - err umm - the Sparkling Diamond comes out.”

A bartender comes up with a big box full of glasses and alcohol. “Thanks umm…”

“Joel,” he says.

The bartender reaches out his hand and they shake. “Pierre. Thanks for this. Terrance is gonna be up here soon though so you better go.”

“Yeah, the light above the booth is out so I’m gonna change that.”

Pierre laughs to himself, “I wouldn’t bother man. I’m sure whatever woman he takes in there will want it to be dark.”

Terrance, who the fuck is Terrance?

Joel heads down to the main hall when he hears there’s an issue in one of the bathrooms. He sighs and then races off to assess the damage.

You slip the silky blue dress over your body and then slide your feet into sparkly high heeled shoes. The bedazzled strap of the shoe goes up your strong calf, and even though you’re nervous and shaky at the thought of being alone with Terrance in the VIP area tonight, you’ve never felt stronger or sexier than you do in this look. Joel’s flirtations from earlier wash over you and make heat rise in your cheeks. As long as you’re wearing that fucking dress.

You’re not looking forward to Joel seeing you with him tonight. Maybe you should have told him, but you’re just not ready for your time with him to be up yet. Just the thought of not getting him to your room again feels like someone is clamping clothespins along your insides as pain starts burning there.

You slide on some red lipstick and flick your eyeliner out in black sharp lines. As soon as you put the eyeliner down you hear your uncle’s booming voice on the microphone, asking the men to call you to the stage. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror, but you don’t recognize yourself anymore. This painted woman, not even a name or a face on the other side of that curtain. But in your room with Joel, you’re his person. Someone he wants to cherish and care for. You’d do anything for him to feel the same way and take you away from here. Maybe one day he would.

The band starts your music slowly and you act almost robotic as you take the stage, a puppet on a tight string where the men call all the shots. You practically disassociate, letting muscle memory take over as you start to move. It brings you to the stage, pulling you into the bright lights of the large room as the men stand and wait. You point and flirt, spin and tease the men with the long slit up your leg, exposing soft skin that the men practically claw at. You bend and push your cleavage together towards the faceless men in the audience, hating that you have to do this night after night.

After your music ends, your uncle comes out with the other Diamonds. “This little petal is spoken for tonight, gents,” he calls. They groan as their hopes and dreams of getting alone time with you fly out the window. You can’t believe there was a time when that made you feel good about yourself, now it makes you feel cheap and used. “But I have some lonely Diamonds that could use some polishing, if you know what I mean,” he says with a wink as the men cheer at his announcement, already reaching for the other dancers.

Your uncle leads you off the lit up stage and pushes you towards the spiral staircase. “Make him happy, petal.” You groan as you climb the winding staircase, dreading what you know is about to come.

You didn’t look up during your performance once, not that you would have been able to see with the bright lights shining in your eyes, but when you reach the balcony you’re shocked to see Terrance with five of his friends. They whistle and catcall as you appear, and you feel hot bile rise in your throat.

“There you are. Gents, this is my girl. Give them a little spin,” he says with a greasy grin. You spin slowly, one of the men grabbing at your ass when your back is to them. You cringe at the unwelcome hands as they claw at your dress.

“Hey, hands off,” Terrance growls. For a second you’re grateful for him, until he opens his mouth again. “Unless you wanna pay me for her.”

His small, cold hand wraps around your wrist and he pulls you over to sit on his lap. His leg is bony and uncomfortable, but he pins you to him. The men order more bourbon and talk while your mind wanders to Joel. He doesn’t have bony legs, no. They’re thick and muscular, filling out his work jeans nicely. You find your eyes scanning the Moulin Rouge looking for him. You need to see him, you need that reminder of what you have to live for.

That dreadful feeling hits you again, weighing you down as cold air floods your insides. You don’t want to do this anymore.

After what feels like hours, you finally see Joel coming out of the men’s bathroom with his metal toolbox in hand. You look away from him, scared that your gaze might somehow attract his, and you can’t bear the chance of seeing any sort of hurt in his eyes that you might be causing him right now.

The men around you have gotten increasingly more drunk and sloppy, hands reaching for you clumsily. Terrance’s hand roams up the bodice of your dress, and your stomach clenches as you feel a heavy weight in your chest start to burn. He grazes your breast slightly before pushing your hair out of the way and places a wet, slobbery kiss to the back of your shoulder. You swallow hard, fighting the urge to retch.

“So, we can pay you then?” One of them asks Terrance. They’re talking like you’re not even here, like you’re mute and unable to do anything of your own free will.

“I don’t like to share what’s mine, but look at her.” His hand comes back to your breast and squeezes hard, making you bite down on your tongue as you taste blood run down the back of your throat.

“Let me see her, decide if I want to get out my checkbook or not,” another one says raspily.

Terrance tries to lift you up off him. You stand begrudgingly as he shoves you towards his friend. The other man gropes at your waist and pulls you roughly into him. You stumble, ripping the skirt of your dress as you fall into his lap. You let out a little squeal at the impact, the slit of your dress falling open to expose your upper thigh.

“I think she likes it,” he laughs, one of his hands grabbing a lock of your hair as he takes a strong whiff of your citrus shampoo. The other lands on your soft milky thigh as he adds, “You definitely picked the best whore in the house, Terrance.” Whore. The word makes you tense up and makes you feel completely disgusting. He goes to cup your breast and slowly slides the top of the dress down, exposing your breast completely as he kneads at it while the other men howl like wild dogs.

You feel the sting of tears in your eyes, feel one roll coldly down your cheek as it splashes against the wooden floor. Terrance just sits there, marveling at your body as he watches his friend ravish your bare skin. You try to get up, but he holds you down. “Where do you think you’re going, gorgeous? We paid for you, don’t think you’re going anywhere else tonight,” he smirks, his lips running hastily down your neck as you cringe away from him.

“Alright now, that’s enough. Give her back now,” Terrance demands as he yanks you off his friend and sits you back in his lap. Now it’s his turn to pry his cold hands over your body.

He slides his hand up to cup your exposed breast, softly kissing your earlobe while his wet mustache tickles your skin. One of his other friends bends down and picks up your leg where the torn slit sits, running his hand up your exposed thigh. A second friend grabs your other leg, parting your thighs and exposing your lacy panties. You freeze, there’s no stopping it, this is what you must do to save the Moulin Rouge, so you just sit there and take it, letting another hot tear run down your face as it lands with a splash on your ruined blue dress.

Maybe when you’re eighteen you can join them.

The room seems to blur as your wet eyes gaze at the ceiling, looking anywhere but at the men that take and take and take from you without any say from you.

Joel… Save me…

Joel's eyes scan the crowded room, looking past flirtatious dancers as they flock around handsy men in expensive suits. When he doesn’t find you anywhere on the dance floor, he lifts his eyes slowly to the balcony, praying he won’t see you in that dark booth. His gaze stops cold as he sees just what’s happening. You are in the booth and there are six men feasting their eyes and hands on you, devouring you up as they take and take and take from you without any remorse on their sly faces.

He sees the way you close your eyes and look away, sees the hot tears that roll down your face as they paint the front of your dress wet. Something in the depths of his stomach snaps. Pure red hot rage blinds him as he drops the heavy toolbox on the ground, grabbing the hammer and clutching it tightly in his fist like a drawn weapon. He squeezes the metal handle as he flares his nostrils and clenches his jaw, snarling his teeth so tight that he swears he’s about to break them. He’s going to fucking kill every single man up there that has their grimy hands on you. He’s going to destroy every last one of them.

He takes one step forward and feels a hand pull him back into the shadows. He turns around as fast as lightning and finds one of the dancers shaking her head at him. “Leave it alone, Joel. Do not go up there and bother them,” she warns with red matte lips and purple eyeshadow that cakes over green eyes.

“What do you mean don’t go up there? Look at her, she’s crying and looks like she wants to die!” he yells, anger seething him as he looks back up to see your eyes open, staring at him as if you’re screaming for him to come save you.

He parts his lips and furrows his eyebrows together, watching the man who’s beneath you kiss down your neck with a sloppy tongue while his other hand kneads your exposed breast. It makes Joel sick, makes his hand tighten around the hammer that much more as he takes another heavy step forward.

The dancer stops him once again. “You don’t want to do that, Joel. That’s Terrance.”

Terrance. Ah. That’s who that fucking is. He wants to murder Terrance slowly and painfully, make him suffer for everything he’s done to his girl.

“Who the fuck is Terrance?” Joel growls as his teeth gnash together.

“Terrance is filthy rich. A powerful man you don’t want to cross. He’s given this place a lot of money, invested a ton in the Sparkling Diamond. Do not fuck this up, Joel. Leave it alone. Leave her alone,” she warns.

Leave her alone? He can’t, he won’t.

“Fuck that, I’m going to make him pay,” he growls.

“Joel!” She says his name loud and firm, digging her long nails into the skin of his wrist. He has no choice but to turn and look at her.

“Look, I can see what’s going on. I see the way you look at her. I saw the smile on your face last night when I caught you leaving her room. You need to be more careful. You’re not supposed to be seeing her, remember? If Edward were to find out you’d be…”

He cuts her off before she can finish her sentence. “What, fired? Don’t you think I know that? Do you think I don’t think about that every fucking minute of the day? But you know what? I don’t care anymore. Because I… fuck, I think I fucking love her.”

The words hang heavily between them before he continues. “No, I know I do. I love her, and if you want to tell Edward then be my guest. I’ll somehow manage without the job, but I can’t manage without her.” He points up to the balcony to make a strong statement and watches as you keep your eyes fixed on him. You need him. You need him.

“Joel…” the dancer says quietly. “I’m not going to tell Edward. She’s basically a daughter to me, and I hate what’s happening up there just as much as you. Just please, be careful. Watch your back and don’t get yourself caught. I’d hate to see what would happen if you did,” she says sadly, eyes gazing back up at you as Joel’s eyes follow.

They watch together as you get torn to shreds, your beautiful dress absolutely ruined by those starving pigs. Joel can’t remember ever being this angry, so very angry. He feels hot lava run through his veins, feels his lip quiver as he watches defenseless. He can’t save you right now and that alone kills him the most.

You nod slowly at him, eyes still wet with tears, but you tug a small smile on your face and mouth ‘it’s okay’ to him. But it’s not okay, it’s just fucking not.

His hand clenches around the base of the hammer, and he has to steady himself as he feels anger, sadness, and helplessness wash over him. He can’t do anything right now which makes him feel like he’s fucking drowning underwater. He hates this, hates you having to sit there and take it. He can’t watch anymore. It’s too much, this is too much. He bends over and picks up the heavy toolbox again and takes one more glance in your direction, eyes locking for a few seconds before he turns the opposite way and heads down the hall.

“I can’t watch this anymore, just tell me when it’s over,” he sighs as he leaves the dancer’s side and trudges down the dim lit hall, away from the men that paw you like starving animals. He can’t do this. He can’t do this. Not when he loves you so goddamn much. It kills him, this kills him. So he decides to go drown himself in work just so he won’t have to see it anymore, won’t have to see your pleading eyes as they stare at him helplessly, begging him to rescue you.

You sigh when you see Joel disappear down the hall, almost cry out his name as they continue to bleed you dry. You need him. You need him.

Come save me, Joel. Come back, come back.

Another hot tear falls and splashes to the floor as you turn your head back to the men as they have their fun with you. This isn’t worth the money, this isn’t worth anything. You’d rather be standing out on the streets than be ravished by disgusting men. You’d rather be with Joel in your room, getting lost in his velvety lips and soft brown eyes. After this you would, after this he’d be yours. You just had to hold on a little longer, give these men what they desired most, which was you. You just hoped Joel still wanted you after seeing you like this…

“More bourbon!” Terrance calls to the bartender as he watches his friends do vile things to your partially naked body.

“Sorry, sir, but we appear to be out.” The bartender says sheepishly.

The men groan, one of them saying, “Let’s go then gents.” Terrance and his disgusting friends grumble about the horrible service and leave you laying there, exposed and raw on the seating of the dark booth. Your body is slick with your own nervous sweat, as well as the clammy sweat of those men's hands and only God knows what else.

“Come on, kid.” The bartender says, helping you up and wrapping you in a silky red table cloth. “Let me take you to Edward.”

“No,” you breathe out, shaking your head quickly. He's just as responsible for this as Terrance. You want to be alone or with Joel, not around money starved pigs. “I’ll get myself to my room, thanks.”

You walk quietly across the balcony, feeling like your legs will give out at any minute. You place your shaky hand against the stair rail and descend the curvy staircase. You see the men downstairs staring up at you, feel their eyes devour you as they see you wrapped in the red tablecloth. You know what they think of you, know what they’d like to do to you as well. You just gulp down a whimpered breath and continue on to your room, ignoring every catcall and question thrown your way. You just want to be alone, to be away from all this loud madness. You want Joel, need him like you need air to breathe.

When you open your heavy door, Joel is already there. Sitting at the small bistro kitchen table, elbows propped against the edge with his head resting heavily in his hands. You swallow loudly and clear your throat carefully. “I’m sorry,” you apologize quietly, fidgeting with the red tablecloth that wraps around your shoulders.

Joel’s head whips up fast, tears running down his face as his wide eyes lock on yours. “How? Why? I - I thought you weren’t… I didn’t know you were entertaining other men.” He looks so sad. So very sad, and it nearly shatters your heart into pieces.

“It’s complicated,” you say as you stare at the floor, tightening the table cloth around your body a little more.

“Don’t do that, don’t shut yourself off to me.” Joel gets up and walks over to you slowly, lifting your chin to meet his gaze. Your mascara is smudged, lipstick stained across your chin, and you’re sure your hair is a mess. “I’m not blaming you, just please tell me how this happened?”

You wet your lips nervously as he continues staring at you intently. It’s almost overwhelming when he’s looking at you the way he is now. All soft and concerned. The wet trails down his cheeks feel like a hot stake to your heart. “Edward sold me,” you whisper sadly.

“What?” he gasps, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“He sold me,” you repeat as shame crosses your face.

“Why would he do that? Why!” His voice is angry, hurt. He doesn’t understand, so you’ll have to tell him everything.

As you tell Joel everything that happened the other night he leads you to your kitchen, pushing back a chair as he sits you down slowly. He crouches in front of you, rubbing his warm palms over your chilled skin, and it feels good. So good.

“That’s,” he breathes out in disbelief, “that’s awful. I’m so sorry, baby. You don’t deserve this, being treated like this by your boss.”

“My uncle,” you correct, eyes dancing along his concerned face.

“What?” this time it’s not a gasp, it’s anger. Pure wretched anger. “Edward is your uncle? Your uncle sold you? Your own family, someone who is supposed to protect you, sold you!” he asks angrily, eyes darkening as his nostrils flare uncontrollably.

He stands and starts pacing around your room, clenching his fists beside him as he can barely keep the anger in any longer. He’s going to fucking murder him, too.

“Please calm down, Joel.”

“Calm down? Calm down! This is vile. Cruel. Abhorrent. This is, there’s no words for what this is!” He’s raising his voice, and you start to feel yourself putting up your walls again as you jump onto the defense.

“Why did you even come here tonight if you’re just going to yell at me?” you ask shakily, standing up and dropping the table cloth to the floor as you expose your torn blue dress. The skirt of your dress is almost fully detached from the bottom of your hips and wet patches of spilled bourbon stick uncomfortably against your skin. His eyes widen as he takes in the torn dress, eyes turning to sadness as he sees the beautiful material ripped to shreds.

“I’m not yelling at you. I’m just,” he pauses, running his hand over his patchy scruff in frustration, the other falling to his side defeatedly. “I think I’m - well I…” He stops his sentence and drags his eyes over your ruined dress. “Baby, your dress…” he says quietly, eyebrows knitting together in full concern.

You lower your eyes and run your hands over the torn material of silk, see the way the sparkly material hangs like a ripped up washrag. This was your favorite dress, too…

“I know, I know. They just couldn’t help themselves, could they?” Your eyes flash up to his, and you see sorrow in them as soft brown eyes search yours carefully.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. You sure did look beautiful in it, too. So very beautiful. My Sparkling Diamond…”

Both his hands fall to his hips as you walk over to him. You need to know what he was about to say before he changed the subject. Save me, tell me you love me, you think to yourself. “What were you going to say to me, Joel? You stopped your sentence,” you coo, eyes flicking up to his softly. Finish what you were going to say.

“Nothing. It’s not your fault, I don’t want to make you feel that way.”

“This can be our space, Joel. What happened tonight is part of my job, but I can endure all of that if it means that we get this. Can you?”

He looks at you carefully, weighing his options. But it doesn’t take him long before he pulls you into his arms, one hand landing on your lower back as the other cradles the back of your skull. You relax into his touch, sinking all your weight into him. You you can endure anything as long as it brings you back here. To Joel. To the man that you are sure loves you just as much as you love him, even if neither of you have dared to say the words yet. You know. This is it for you, Terrance or not, this is where you belong.

“Yes, darlin’. Even if it kills me to see it, I’ll always be here for you.” He presses his lips to the top of your head. “Go take a shower, baby. I’ll be right here waiting. I brought my guitar if you want to play?” he asks with hope in his large brown eyes.

You smile into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist tighter. “I don’t really know how. I only managed to learn a little…” you say quietly.

He laughs a little and pulls back to look into your eyes. “You have a guitar in the corner of your room,” he chuckles softly.

“I know,” you say, laughing back at him, “I want to learn more. Will you teach me?”

He lowers his head to press his lips gently to yours. “Go shower and I’ll teach ya.”

“Alright.” You brush past his hand and feel the warm heat inside you as you walk away towards your lit up bathroom with beads of pearls strewn across your wide mirror. You turn back to see him watching you, and you smile shyly as you close the door and disappear from his view.

You unzip your torn to shreds dress and let it fall in a heap on the ground, climbing into the shower as you let the warm heat rinse away the taste of regret on your sweaty skin. You take the dusty pink washcloth and soak your skin with vanilla soap. Making sure to scrub off every inch of bourbon and dirty fingerprints that those nasty men had left on you.

You watch the dirt fall down the drain, feel your skin come back to life as the clean skin seems to glow. This is how you’re supposed to feel, not like how you felt up there on the balcony with those savages. You felt used, like a dirty ragdoll that they could do whatever they wanted with you, but you wouldn’t let them do it again. You’d rather ruin your chances with Terrance and watch the Moulin Rouge fall apart than be back up in that dark booth again where no one could save you. Where your silent screams couldn’t be heard.

When you finish with your shower, you cut off the water and dry off quickly, wrapping a pink silky robe around yourself as you comb through your curls and put on fresh red lipstick. You pucker your lips together and spray a dash of sweet smelling perfume on your neck. As you take one more look at yourself, you pull the sliding doors open and walk back into the room to find Joel sitting on the window seat by the open balcony strumming along softly on his guitar.

You watch the way his thick fingers graze gently along each string, watch him hum to the beat of the song he plays quietly. He looks so good, so beautiful sitting there in the moonlight with his tousled curls falling gently over his eyes. You think you see heaven in those soft brown eyes of his, think you see the man you want to spend forever with.

When you pad across the wooden floors, he looks up slowly and smiles at you as his lips curl into an infectious grin. “There’s my girl. C’mere.” He curls his index finger toward him and coaxes you to follow. You do so without hesitation.

When you make it over to him, he puts his guitar to the side and spreads his thighs to make room for you. As you turn around, he pulls you up against his broad chest and places the guitar in your hands, hooking his arms around you as he puts his hands gently over yours and guides them to the strings. Your breath hitches at the contact.

“Is this okay, baby?” he asks. You nod your head before he continues. “Let me take you through all the basic chords, then I can show you a simple song or two.”

He grazes his calloused fingers over yours and slowly takes you through each cord, careful to explain each note and how to be gentle with it. It doesn’t take you long to pick up on what he shows you and takes less time to actually teach you the first song.

“Alright, go slow,” he instructs, keeping his hands on yours as he talks you through the notes. “Yeah, just like that. There ya go. Doin’ so good, sweetheart. You’re a natural,” he praises as he brushes his lips against your jawline, dragging it down slowly as he places a gentle kiss against your cheek. You about melt at the sweetness of it all, of him.

“You really think I’m doing good?” you ask with a giggle, feeling his right hand trace lines up and down your right arm as you continue to strum along the taut strings.

“Think you’re doin’ amazing, darlin’. Such a good little guitar player,” he praises as he places another kiss to your jawline. You nearly fall apart every time he praises you, kissing you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever planted his lips on.

When the song ends, he places the guitar to the side and wraps his arms around your waist as he entwines his fingers with yours. He makes an assessment of the bright walls that are covered with pink wallpaper and jewels and looks down to take in the soft pink robe that’s latched around you.

“You sure do love pink, don’t ya?” he asks with a soft chuckle that sounds like music to your ears.

“Mhm,” you hum as you lean against his broad chest and melt into his touch.

“That your favorite color?” he asks gently.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a playful smirk.

“Lucky guess,” he laughs as he grins down at you with soft brown eyes.

“And yours? What’s your favorite color?” you ask as you turn to face out the window, looking upon the lit up city as it sits below your view.

“Blue. Not just any blue. A deep navy blue, like the color of your dress. That’s my favorite color, the one you picked out at the dress shop. Thought I was having a heart attack seein’ ya in it tonight. You looked beautiful, just like a rare precious diamond. But you are a diamond, aren’t ya? You’re the rarest Sparkling Diamond I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he breathes out quietly as he trails a finger along your jawline, gently pushing a curl behind your ear as you turn around to face him.

You look up into his eyes and all you see are warm flecks of sunlight that shine down upon you, sinking into your eyes as you let your arms hook around the back of his neck. You think you see love in his eyes, and you’re sure he sees it there in yours, too.

“Joel Miller, you’re the sweetest man I’ve ever met. The most handsome, kind, and gentle man I ever laid eyes on. You know that?” you ask with a smile as he cups your chin and raises your face to his, just inches from his lips.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asks with the corners of his mouth curling up into the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Mhm,” you nod as your fingers wind around the curls on the nape of his neck.

“Does that mean you’re mine?” he asks quietly as he traces his thumb against your lower lip, making butterflies flit down in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m all yours,” you answer. And that’s all the answer he needs as he falls into your lips and kisses you deeply as his fingers curl around your long locks and his other hand pulls you tight to his chest. He tastes like heaven, smells like his acoustic guitar, all woodsy and mahogany. And you think you want to stay right here in his arms forever.

“Good, I’m yours, too. Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you again.” The two of you sit quietly, tangled into one another, almost as if you’re trying to become one. “So? You gonna teach me something now?”

You giggle into his skin, contemplating what you should show him. You don’t have any clay, but you planned to pick some up tomorrow on your day off. “Hmmm, we will have to get up if you want me to teach you something.”

He loosens his grip on you, wrapping his hands around your waist and helps lift you up. You spin gracefully towards him and grab his hands, tugging him up to his feet. He looks at you with one eyebrow raised as you place one of his large palms on the small of your back, your hand trailing up his strong forearm and bicep before finding a home on his shoulder. You place your other hand in his and hold it out to the side of your body.

“What are we doin’ here, sweet girl?” Joel asks, slightly nervous that you’re about to see him make a fool of himself.

You smile up at him, stepping in so close that your breasts are pressed up against his broad chest. “I feel sexiest when I’m doing the waltz.”

Joel feels his stomach drop. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that right?” You giggle a little as he adds, “But anything for you, always anything for you.”

“I promise it’s easy, the tempo is slow-slow-quick-quick, you repeat it twice in the shape of a box.” Joel looks at you like you’re speaking a different language, confusion furrowing in his brows and you can’t stop the smile that lights up your face. “Just follow me.”

Joel can’t tear his eyes off you, trying to follow but bumps into you and presses his toes against yours instead. You carry out a loud laugh. “Joel, look at your feet until you get the hang of it.”

“Can’t,” he says, “you’re too pretty.”

You stop moving your feet and look up at him. “Kiss me then.”

His lips come down to yours gently and he brings the hand he’s holding to rest on his shoulder, sliding his hand down to your waist gently as he hooks his arms around you tightly. You hum into his kiss as he starts to sway from side to side. He might not be able to waltz but this feels better, so much better.

You break the kiss hesitantly and look back up into honey colored eyes. “Please, stay the night. The club is closed tomorrow, Edward is leaving for the day. Please, Joel?”

He kisses you again slowly as his lips graze softly against yours. “I can’t say no when you say please like that, darlin’.”

You kiss him again, curving your lips up into a tight smile as his lips mould against yours. “Then it’s settled then, tonight you’re mine.”

“Tonight I’m yours,” he whispers back as his forehead leans against yours and his fingers entwine around yours.

Minutes later you’re tucked snuggly under the fuzzy fleece blanket, laying against Joel’s chest as he wraps his arms around you and combs his fingers through your smooth locks. You sink into his space, feel yourself get lost in his savory scent as your fingers trail up and down his inner arm as you trace each vein like they’re the map to his heart.

You could stay here forever in his arms, get lost in each other as you both breathe each other in again and again and again. This is where you belong, in Joel’s arms. This is right. This is home.

You let your eyes fall closed as he continues to soothe you to sleep with his warm touches and gentle kisses. “Goodnight, sweet girl. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let his words bring you peace as you feel yourself fade off into the dark. The last thing you remember is him kissing the top of your head and whispering words you can’t quite make out.

Home. He’s home.

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ph4ngz · 2 years

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PANTY SHOT! || SATORU GOJO

nonconsensual panty shots, pervert!Gojo, innocent fem!reader & Gojo are best friends, male masturbation, mentions of panty-theft…

Satoru Gojo is a sneaky bastard when he wants to be. It’s not like he really has to be like that around you, though.

Whether it be “accidentally” spilling things on your clothes, making you say dirty things, putting you in compromising positions… he doesn’t even have to try. One time he unintentionally did all three, deciding to take it up a notch after you started to realise your panties were missing.

“Oh god, I’m so wet!—” you yelped, unknowingly seductive.

So oblivious…

You and Satoru had absolutely drenched one another after a water pistol fight. He practically eye fucked you whilst you were busy taking off your shoes. His head tilted to the side once he saw your nipples clearly through your white t-shirt. Hard and begging for him to toy with.

Satoru followed the swish of your dampened mini skirt to the laundry room and slyly retrieved the smartphone sitting in his back pocket, opening the camera app.

“Jeez, Satoru!! I’m soaking because of you!” You accused him playfully as you searched for a dry towel.

“Sorry, sweets. I told you I was gonna win, shoulda' listened to the almighty Gojo.” He replied half-assedly and focused on the positioning of his phone. He hoped to catch you with your panties on show, knowing it was kinda hopeless.

Wishful thinking, he mused to himself. How perverse.

“Yeah, yeah whatever…”

Sighing, you shifted your weight to the tips of your toes and stretched your arms over your head. Satoru’s eyes lit up and his eyebrows raised in curiosity and shock. Wait what?

Of course. He must’ve placed the dry towels on the highest shelves, considering his height. Oh, this was perfect.

Satoru sauntered toward you with his phone positioned at his hip. He watched carefully before he snapped an array of pictures directly underneath your skirt.

Click, he imitated the sound in his head.

“U-Uh… Hey…”

Fuck! He was so proud of himself that he hadn’t realised that he was so close to you!

“You’re so- close…” you continued, dry towel limp in one hand.

Satoru looked down into your innocent eyes, then your full cheeks and finally, your lips. Your plumped, sweet, glossy lips. God, what he wanted to do with them. With you.

His thumb brushed the camera button by accident, the movement reminding him to subtly place his phone away.

Yours and his heavy breathing could’ve broken the heavy silence surrounding your bodies if the washing machine didn’t start up again.

|| || || ||

Finally, he could examine the photos he’d so expertly taken of you!

“Oh— Fffffffuck.” Satoru moaned into the screen, playfully squeezing the reddened tip of his cock.

His leg bounced with anticipation and excitement as he sat at the edge of his own bed, toying with himself to your exposed body.

Swiping along to the latest picture he took, he wasn’t expecting to find a wet patch in the centre of your panties. This was when you noticed how close he was to you, right?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Satoru doubled over and trapped his bottom lip between his teeth. He hadn’t even noticed how much quicker he was jerking himself off. You were wet because of him. Truly, this time.

Shiny precum gathered and dripped everywhere the faster that he tugged on his painfully hard dick. THE Satoru Gojo was almost in tears.

Moans tried to spill but he was still biting down on his bottom lip, resulting in whiny “mmmmmngh!~” ’s.

Then your soaked shirt from earlier plagued his dirty mind, daring him to imagine how your nipples would get even harder if he had his mouth and fingers on them. How you would jolt and sob for him to stop making you throb and fuck you please!

Switching back to the panty shot, he could almost feel the tip of his nose pressing into your clothed pussy, nudging your swollen clit when he kisses over your tight hole.

He thought about squeezing, biting, slapping your asscheeks until they turned red raw, even slipping one of his long skilled fingers in when you’re not paying attention.

His top had found itself hooked up in his mouth by now, after he’d gotten precum all over it. He fucked into his huge hand over and fucking over…

“Hhhhhhhhuh- uh! Fuck fuck gonna cum gonna cum gonna cum-” he panicked, announcing to no one in particular.

Satoru moaned your name into the fabric of his shirt, clenching his watery eyes shut so a tear rolled down his flushed cheeks. His fat cock twitched as he came uncontrollably, whimpers and shaky breaths echoing.

Soon, he let himself fall backwards onto his bed. He was exhausted. Maybe he should text you? Yeah, he’ll text you.

Shakily, Satoru reached for his phone but stopped midway. Some of his cum had hit the screen, landing directly on the photo of your panties.

He laughed breathlessly.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo

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wheretheharekissesthefox · 4 months

Text

Hear my pleas

This one’s different from my usual fics and set in an alternative universe where all the worst-case scenario outcomes had happened (set post BG3):

Astarion has ascended, his vampire spawn lover Tav, a Bhaalspawn, is dead, Gale reached godhood, Shadowheart was killed by her Sharran kin, Karlach's beheaded for the sword of Tyr, Wyll and Halsin are dead along with the tieflings and the grove, Lae'zel and Minthara had been killed in the last battle against the Netherbrain.

Astarion's lonely and tired. He has no one. Thus, in his desperation, he builds an altar for the God of Ambition and prays to him despite not expecting an answer. – His prayers are heard though.

Astarion x Gale

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, angst, anilingus, anal sex, nonconsensual blood drinking, blood, biting, cum-eating, choking, dom/sub power dynamic, derogatory language, dubious consent, fellatio, face-fucking, violence, vomiting, spanking, sprinkle of praise kink, these men have trauma, character study, emotional rollercoaster, happy ending (I wouldn't stand it otherwise), unnamed Tav, they/them pronounce for Tav, original character, OC, post-canon)

Notes:

I finally forced myself to play the Dark Urge and to choose all the worst options 'for fun'. It wasn't fun. It hurt. Badly. Now, you all gonna suffer with me for a bit.

Also, just so that it's said: I do NOT support romanticising and/or defending violent behaviours, especially when it comes to sex!

In this fic, Astarion and Gale both know that what's happening is wrong.

The Netherbrain was defeated, but at what cost?

The Emerald Grove was dead and with it dozens of tieflings and druids, as well as Halsin the Archdruid and Wyll, the Blade of Frontiers. They had exchanged Zariel's attack dog, Karlach, for a sword blessed by Tyr – which hadn't been worth it at all. Shadowheart had been killed by her Sharran kin because of a betrayal the cleric couldn't even remember. Lae'zel and Minthara had been killed in the last battle against the Netherbrain, both of them fighting 'till the end. Gale had become the God of Ambition, now dwelling in the Outer Planes. Astarion had finished Cazador's Infernal ritual and had ascended to an all-powerful vampire lord. He had turned his lover Tav, a Bhaalspawn, into his first and only vampire spawn, granting them one single drop of his own blood to make them his spouse.

Everything had been perfect until Withers had gathered the three remaining members of the heroic group for a night of celebration. There, Tav had lost themself completely, giving themself over to Bhaal instead of Astarion, and attacked their lover, Gale, and Withers. The God of Ambition had killed them, incinerated them to a heap of ash, and the vampire lord had wept for the loss of his first true love.

Seven years had passed since then, but Astarion still couldn't find any joy in his immortal life. With his mad love dead, Astarion was alone again and once more at the brink of forgetting how to love. The Szarr palace had never felt like home and it still didn't, but Astarion had nowhere else to go. He hated the place, hated the servants who only bent to all his wishes because they hoped to be turned into spawns and gifted with immortality. He hated to host parties for the nobles, politicians, and other people in power because it forced him to put his mask back on and slip into a character that wasn't fully true to himself. He hated to be pleasant company and to show interest in people and things he didn't care about the slightest to secure his place in the city. He hated his life, his existence, and the worst of it all; he had to face it all by himself. Once again, Astarion was alone to survive the hells of eternity.

It was a breezy spring morning and Astarion decided to go for a stroll through the bustling city. His mindless wandering led him to the tabernacle near Basilisk Gate. He entered it, not knowing why he did so exactly, and came face to face with the statue of the God of Ambition. With a blank mind, Astarion stared at it, taking it all in. The long hair, the knowing eyes, the warm smile, the flowy robes. Gale Dekarios of Waterdeep, the God of Ambition. No deity had ever answered Astarion's prayers in the two hundred years of torture under Cazador. No deity had ever deemed the high elf turned vampire spawn worthy of their attention or their help. Astarion despised them for it. Would Gale answer to his prayers, he suddenly wondered. Would the God of Ambition, his former tadpole-infected companion, listen to his pleas?

"Start praying or get out," one of the clerics told him angrily - and Astarion laughed maniacally.

The huge marble statue dominated the room, chiselled by the most talented artist of Baldur's Gate. On its round base, purple candles, sweet buns, a couple of books, and a silver chalice with high-quality red wine were placed. Only one last thing was missing.

At the reunion party, Astarion had noticed how much Tara had detested Gale all of a sudden, hissing at him whenever he'd gotten too close to her. Gale had seemed utterly crushed about it. Thus, Astarion had planned to summon a tressym for Gale to lure the God of Ambition to him – or so he told himself.

The vampire lord checked his ritual again. The runes and the circle were right, the candles placed around it, the incantation was in his hand and its pronunciation perfected over the last two months. The potion that allowed him to understand tressym speak had already settled in his stomach. Astarion remembered what Gale had told Tav when he'd showed them how to access the Weave (no, Astarion hadn't been eavesdropping. He'd just been nearby accidentally). He hoped his plan worked.

Astarion lit the candles, tried his best to connect to the Weave, and uttered the spell. The runes started glowing and a breeze wafted through the room.

Please work, the vampire pleaded and repeated the ancient words that sounded foreign even to his old elven ears. Suddenly, a ball of fur popped into existence, dropping right into Astarion's arms.

"Oof, apologies. I'm usually much more graceful," spoke the tressym with a feminine, warm, young-sounding voice.

The vampire laughed and hugged the creature tightly. He'd done it. It had worked! The tressym let out a sound of distress and he finally gave her space to breathe again.

"Apologies, I'm just very excited. I wasn't sure if the ritual would work. I'm not too well-versed in higher magic, you see. My name's Astarion, by the way, and who have I the pleasure to meet?"

The tressym looked up at him and the vampire was met with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. The long, fluffy coat was snow-white and her nose adorably pastel pink. She was stunningly beautiful.

"I'm Kalina. Nice to meet you Astarion. Why did you summon me? Forgive my question, but I'm still young and was never called upon before."

"Oh... well, you see, I –" Astarion paused, suddenly embarrassed and unsure how to phrase his request. The tressym awaited his answer patiently. He sighed deeply. "Look, there are two reasons why I summoned you. Firstly, I'm a vampire lord and I have no desire to create any spawns. I'm alone in this palace and have no one to share it with and I crave intelligent conversations. Secondly, I have - had a friend who was a talented wizard. He lived with a tressym that he adored, but then, he ascended to godhood and his tressym started to hate him for it. Gale seemed sad about it and I.... well, we both are lonely, I suppose. I'll try to call for him, pray to him to meet me once again, and I thought he might be persuade if... you know, if I had someone like you by my side to sweeten the deal a bit."

Astarion hated how he stumbled over his words like a bumbling amateur, but Kalina didn't seem to mind.

"I understand," she snickered amused. "You need me to wrap him around your little finger. To lure your lover back."

"He's not my –"

"Mhm." The tressym smirked as much as a cat can smirked and hopped onto the stone floor. "How about you offer me a nice meal, hm? I'm your guest after all."

At that, Astarion snorted an amused laugh, but guided Kalina towards the staff's kitchen in which he'd already stored a bunch of tressym-friendly food. Just in case.

Kalina decided to stay for a while and help him with his plan to get Gale down to the mortal realms. She turned out to be excellent company and Astarion started to understand why Gale had loved his 'dear old' Tara so much.

Finally, it was time. Astarion kneeled in front of Gale's statue, folded his hands, and closed his eyes reverently.

"Uhm, hello Gale, God of Ambition. It's me, your old friend Astarion. You're probably wondering why I'm praying to you. Funny story actually... If you could spare a moment, I'd like to talk to you after all these years. I'm... well... I'd like to see you again. – Please."

Astarion huffed, irritated about laying his heart bare. He hated it. He opened his eyes and stood up. His prayers were neither heard nor answered, and if they were heard, they were masterfully ignored. Bloody typical. Astarion couldn't prevent an angry snarl forming on his face. With another huff he turned around, stomping towards the door.

"Hello Astarion."

The addressed froze dead in his step, then, he whirled around with a gasp, eyes wide in disbelief. Behind him stood the God of Ambition. His skin shimmering silvery blue, wrapped in a dark purple toga. His eyes glowing with white light. He looked exactly as Astarion remembered him, not having aged a single day.

"Gale," the latter croaked out. He wanted to rush across the room and hug the other man, but his pride stopped him from doing so. Astarion didn't want to seem desperate, weak, and pathetic. Thankfully, Gale acted instead, embracing the vampire warmly. The latter was barely able to keep from sobbing.

"You came," he whispered. "You answered my prayer."

"Of course." The God of Ambition smiled. "It's an honour to be remembered by an old friend who went through the same horrors as I did."

"There's no one else left," Astarion spoke, close to tears. "We're the last ones standing."

Gale sighed, looking sad.

"I'm aware," he nodded. Then he turned around to look at the altar Astarion had made for him. "Impressive. And put up in your home... that's – I'm speechless, really."

Astarion snorted, replying: "I don't think it's possible for you to ever be speechless."

Gale chuckled at that and tasted some of the wine that served as an offering.

"Mmh, what a lovely vintage. Velvety, with a hint of blackberries. Wonderful choice."

The vampire preened. To him, all drinks tasted like vinegar and all foods like ash, thus, he was happy he'd picked the right wine.

"I got something else for you. Well, not something you can own, but... Kalina?"

"Yes?" purred the tressym, slinking through the door.

"Oh!"

Gale's eyes went wide in delight and surprise, a huge smile spreading over his face. Kalina looked at him.

"Ah, the God of Ambition has heard your pleas, I see," she spoke, the amusement audible in her voice. She moved closer to him. "Gale, wasn't it?"

"A tressym," the addressed breathed, ignoring the creature's question. "Oh, and what a beautiful specimen."

He bent down to sweep Kalina off the floor, cradling her close to his chest. She purred happily and rubbed her head against his shoulder.

"Your friend's delightful," said the tressym. "He knows exactly how to scratch my chin just right. You could learn something from him."

Astarion laughed.

"You cheeky thing!"

"Huh?" Gale looked at him confused and seemed flustered. Only now, the vampire realised that the other man thought he'd addressed him. Frowning, he asked: "I used a potion to understand Kalina. I thought you're well-versed in tressym speak."

"Uhm, no," muttered Gale, lowering his gaze. "I enchanted Tara's collar to give her the ability to be understood by everyone. I don't speak tressym."

"Oh..." Astarion was dumbstruck. He hadn't known and had just assumed. "Well, she says she likes you and you have talented hands, darling."

He winked suggestively at the last sentence and swore he could see Gale blush despite his silvery skin. The latter cleared his throat and asked: "Why did you call for me, Astarion?"

"Am I not allowed to wish to speak to an old friend?"

"Of course you are. It's just... unusual. I didn't expect you to call for me. We got along fine, but you never seemed that fond of me. If I remember correctly, you called me annoying at every occasion."

"Tsk, tsk, Astarion," tut-tutted Kalina and the addressed started fidgeting.

"I just -" Words were lost on him. It was so difficult to say the truth. Gale looked at him. Those intelligent eyes boring themselves into Astarion's ruby-red ones and straight down into his soul.

"You're lonely," the God of Ambition stated matter-of-factly.

"So are you," Astarion snapped back, angry that Gale saw right through his façade. "Don't tell me there are parties up there in the Astral Planes? Or did you reunite with your beloved Mystra? Fucking her again, now, that you're finally deemed her equal?"

Gale narrowed his eyes, the air around him suddenly crackled with purple magic. Kalina hissed in surprise and a flare of fear, jumping out of his arms and fleeing the room.

"You're just trying to rile me up because you're mad I struck a nerve," the God of Ambition spoke calmly. Of course, he was right and gods, did Astarion despise it. The latter bristle, putting up his defences.

"Why?" growled the vampire.

"Why what?"

"Why did you answer my prayers?"

"Because it's my duty."

"Ha! Fuck off!" Astarion cackled uglily. "There's not a single god that answers their devotees' prayers! Don't be ridiculous, Gale."

The addressed frowned, his mouth a thin line, visibly miffed.

"Would you prefer it if I say that I came because you deserve to be heard?" he asked then.

Astarion glared at him, his ruby-red eyes full of fiery rage. Baring his fangs, he roared: "Don't you dare! Don't you dare pitying me!"

"I'm not."

"Of course, you are! You always thought you're above me, above everyone else, because you were Mystra's Chosen! You were always haughty, but now that you've reached godhood, you're so much worse! You scolded me for being power-hungry and for ascending, but you did the exact same thing, Gale Dekarios!"

The addressed inhaled sharply, the air around him crackled again. The electricity of the magic made Astarion's hair stand on end.

"Vampire ascension changes a person," Gale replied. "It kills all your feelings. Your soul. You're not yourself anymore, Astarion."

"You know nothing about me!" roared the vampire lord. "I'm no longer a pathetic, scared spawn. I'm finally strong enough to force anyone to their knees and ensure my safety. I no longer have to run and hide."

"But at what cost? Your siblings and seven thousand innocent victims are dead. And so is Tav."

"Don't speak their name! You have no right! They were mine and you kill them!"

"They were a Bhaalspawn, Astarion. They attacked us at the reunion party. I had to save us."

Astarion screamed. His bat wings split the skin and shirt on his back and unfurled to their full glory. Usually, he had himself under control, but apparently not today.

"They were mine! They were my perfect vampire spawn spouse. Mine, forever!" Astarion heaved a breath he technically didn't need to breathe. He felt dizzy and nauseous all of a sudden. With another scream, he collapsed onto the floor. "They were my mad love."

"Astarion..." Gale moved closer, kneeled down beside him and pulled him into an embrace. The vampire sobbed, not remembering when he'd started to cry.

"I'm sorry," whispered the God of Ambition and kissed Astarion's temple.

The latter went very still under him. They had never really touched each other before today and the quick, mindless kiss was definitely unexpected. Something bitter and ugly coiled in Astarion's stomach at the gentle affection he received. He wanted to hurt Gale, to punish him for what he'd done to him and to his beloved spawn.

"I should kill you," Astarion growled viciously. "I should make you pay for what you’ve done."

"Then do it."

The words made the vampire's thoughts come to a screeching halt and he stared up at Gale.

"What?" he whispered.

"Punish me, Astarion."

"No, that was just –"

"Do it. Make me pay for killing Tav. For berating you for your choices. For not being able to save the grove from Tav's bloodlust. For not being able to save Shadowheart, Lae'zel, and Minthara. If you believe I deserve it, then, punish me for failing you and everyone else."

Gale's words stoke the fire of hatred in Astarion again. He felt violent and the wish to hurt the other man grew with every second. The vampire gave in to his urges and grabbed a handful of Gale's hair, yanking his head back painfully, gleeful to see the other man wince.

"You'll regret your words soon enough," sneered Astarion. "You'll wish you haven't left your cosy little spot in the Divine Planes."

He saw Gale swallow thickly, eyes big and nervous, and felt a sick kind of satisfaction. Astarion tugged on the other man's hair again, ordering: "Stay where you are. Don't you dare move."

The vampire stood up and retracted his wings, sneering down at Gale.

"You're exactly where you belong; on your knees. Soon, you'll beg for mercy. – Now, take your clothes off."

The addressed squirmed, but snapped his fingers and his clothes disappeared. Grinning, Astarion traced the branding of the Netherese Orb on Gale's chest with his fingers. The dangerous fracture of ancient Weave was still stuck there, emitting a subtle purple light under the vampire's pale fingers. Now though, with Karsus' Crown and Gale's godhood status, the Orb was permanently stabilised and had become a part of Gale, just like the rest of the ancient magic.

Astarion dug his fingers deep into the silvery blue skin, feeling its warmth and the chest hair. Gale grimaced and hissed at the pain. The vampire revelled in it.

"Look at you," he mocked. "At my feet. What would the other gods say if they knew, eh?"

"I don't care," answered Gale, and strangely enough Astarion believed him.

Suddenly, the vampire smacked him across the cheek with an open palm. The God of Ambition gasped, looking up at him. Shock and surprise written all over his face. Astarion laughed and hit his other side. The sound of skin hitting skin echoed loudly through the room.

"That's not enough," Astarion voiced his sick thoughts. "You need real punishment."

With that, he took a step back to open his belt and free it from his trousers. Gale's eyes widen in realisation. Astarion sneered. He was ill in the head and he knew it. Still, he ordered: "Get up, hold onto the base of your statue, and bend over."

The addressed trembled slightly when he obeyed and hid his face behind his hair as he lowered his head between his shoulders. Astarion stalked closer, sliding his fingers along the leather belt.

"Good," he praised and Gale shuddered slightly.

Interesting... The vampire cracked the belt over Gale's right butt cheek with force, revelling in the sharp cry of pain he coaxed out of the other man.

"Yes. Sing for me, pet."

Another hit, another cry. Astarion grinned, lost in a mixture of rage, arousal, and sick fantasies. Drunk on power. He landed another two blows on each butt cheek before he stopped. Gale was panting elaborately now, arms and legs shaking slightly. Astarion leant forwards and licked up a rivulet of black blood that welled from where Gale's skin had broken. The vampire made a face at the taste. It didn't reek of bile anymore like it had before, but there was something sharp and acrid about Gale's blood.

"You still taste disgusting."

At that, the God of Ambition chuckled lightly.

"Apologies. My body contains even more Netherese magic than before, thus, I'm sure it –"

Gale's reply ended in a yell when Astarion racked his sharp fingernails down his back, leaving bloody trails behind.

"You're still talking too much," the vampire said coldly. "I guess it needs more drastic measures to shut you up."

Astarion pushed Gale back down on his knees again and forced his jaw open with one hand, pressing his thumb into his mouth to pry it open. With the other hand, he freed his dick from his trousers skilfully. Gale's eyes widened in fear, but Astarion couldn't hear his pulse quickening. Actually, he couldn't hear a heartbeat at all.

Right. Gale's a god now. Immortal like me, the vampire realised, slightly bitter about it.

"What? Never sucked a cock before?" he taunted, releasing his grip on Gale's jaw to let him speak.

"Mystra liked to change her form sometimes. Thus, I know how to –"

"Don't speak that bitch's name ever again!" spat Astarion, riled up. "That bitch doesn't deserve to be worshipped nor anything else! Least your attention. She's the reason for your folly."

Surprised, the God of Ambition looked up at him. Oh, how Astarion wished the other's eyes were still as brown and expressive as they’d been before his ascension to godhood.

"I – Apologies. I didn't know it would upset you so much, but you've asked if I had any exp-"

"Shut up and suck me off, pet," Astarion interrupted him harshly, grabbed Gale's jaw again, and shoved his member into the other man's mouth and down his throat. The latter made a choking noise.

"Don't be dramatic. You don't need to breathe anymore," Astarion taunted and the addressed glared up at him. An ugly grin split the vampire's face. "How does it feel, God of Ambition? On your knees and used like a toy by a mere vampire lord. Where are your godly powers now?"

At that, Gale slightly bit down on Astarion's cock as a warning. The latter gripped the god's hair tighter, hissing: "Don't you dare."

To Astarion's surprise, Gale obeyed and his jaw went slack again, letting himself be face-fucked by the vampire who moaned blissfully. Astarion's eyes rolled back in his head as he pushed as deep as he could and spilled down Gale's throat.

"That's it, darling," he groaned. "Take it."

And the God of Ambition moaned as he swallowed the vampire lord's cold seeds. Astarion bit his lip to hold back a whimper. It felt so good. So loving.

He'd tried to find joy in sex again ever since Tav had been killed, but nothing and no one excited him anymore. Everything felt fake and wrong. Either because Astarion forced himself to enjoy it, or because whoever joined him in bed only did so because they were terrified of him or wanted something from him.

It didn't feel fake or wrong now. The only thing that felt wrong was forcing Gale to go along with what he wanted, but Astarion didn't particularly care about that right now. He still panted as he stared at the ceiling of the Szarr palace. The place that once had been his prison, had become his unwelcoming, cold home. Astarion hated it. He blinked slowly before looking down at Gale. A genuine soft smile appeared on the vampire's beautiful face.

"So good for me," he praised and couldn't keep himself from gently running his fingers through Gale's hair. "You can release me now."

That he did. Gasping for air and coughing, Gale looked positively wrecked and Astarion felt smug and almost satisfied, but when the God of Ambition initiated to stand up, the vampire spoke sharply: "I'm not done with you, pet."

The addressed froze.

"Astarion, I think that's quite enough. You had your revenge."

"I decide when it's enough! As I said, I'm not done with you, God of Ambition!"

In a sudden outburst of anger, Astarion backhanded him across the face, sending Gale onto the floor again. Sneering, Astarion placed a foot on the other man's chest and pushed him backwards onto the cold marble floor.

"You took everything from me," growled the vampire lord.

At that, Gale bristled.

"That's not true! You did this to yourself, Astarion! I warned you. I warned you that the ritual would change you and it had. It took away all of your humanity."

"Humanity?!" roared Astarion and cackled. "I'm an elf! I never had any humanity in me in the first place!"

"You know what I mean! Look how cold you're acting now. No more empathy. No more feelings. No more heart. No more love."

Snarling, Astarion bent over Gale, bringing their faces so close together that they felt each other's breaths on their skins when they spoke.

"My heart stopped beating over two hundred years ago when I was turned into a spawn. My heart's long dead – and so is yours now."

Astarion grabbed the other man's thighs and pushed them upwards, purring: "You better use that grease spell on your rear or I'll take you dry."

Gale's shocked, almost terrified, expression wasn't as satisfying as the vampire lord had hoped for.

"Astarion... please..."

"Any time now, Gale!" the addressed snarled, baring his fangs.

The God of Ambition looked hurt now, and even though he was trembling in fear, he muttered the spell.

"What an obedient pet," praised Astarion and pushed all the way into him until he bottomed out.

Gale screamed hoarsely, tears running down his face as he dug his nails into the vampire's shoulders. The latter set a violent pace, revelling in the other man's cries, and started to choke him just for fun. Gale wheezed, gasping for air. He obviously didn't need to breathe anymore, but his brain apparently hadn't gotten the memo yet.

"Astarion... please..." the God of Ambition begged, gulping in ragged breaths and the addressed squeezed his neck just a little tighter for a second to taunt him before releasing him. Gale's eyes rolled for a second as he gulped in lungful’s of air in a panic.

"We're not so different, you and I," sneered Astarion. "We both ascended, became something far more powerful than others could ever dream of. We're both immortals and can inflict terror in anyone. You're as power-hungry and greedy as me, Gale."

"If I... if I could turn back time," the addressed sobbed. "I'd stop you from ascending and I'd return the crown to Mystra. We both lost our humanity, our hearts, and ourselves. We sought power to prove ourselves, but we lost everything dear to us in the process. Now, there's only loneliness for us."

"Shut up!" yelled Astarion and buried his fangs in Gale's neck. His blood was vile and insulting, but also held power, so much power. Pure magic. The vampire wondered briefly if he'd become even more powerful if he'd drain the other man dry, or if the Netherese magic would kill him instead. He didn't care either way.

Gale choked on a sob, but continued talking.

"I'm sorry I failed to save us. I'm sorry I couldn't save you from yourself. I regret it. Forgive me... please."

His body went limp under Astarion, his hands losing their grip on the vampire's shoulders. Almost panicked, the latter, stopped drinking from him to stare at the other man instead. Astarion grabbed Gale's face with both hands, slightly shaking him.

"Don't die! You're a God, you can't die! Don't you dare leave me alone!"

Groaning, the God of Ambition opened his eyes.

" 'm not dying. Just... tired... can't...."

Suddenly, Astarion felt vile and it finally hit him what he'd done. He let go of Gale as if the touch had burned him and slipped his softening dick out of him. The vampire scooted back on his bare arse, horrified of his actions, before bending sideways and retching onto the floor. Gale's black blood was a stark contrast to the white-grey marble floor.

"Ugh..." Astarion groaned miserably and dry-heaved again. "I'm - I'm a monster. Just - just like - Cazador."

His eyes flitted back to Gale who winced as he sat up. All the fight had left the vampire and he trembled now.

"Why?" His eyes spilled over, an ugly sob escaping his throat. "Why did you let me hurt you like this? You're a god, you could have easily overpowered me."

"Because -" Gale wheezed. "Because it seemed like you needed it. You're lonely, sad, and hurt. Let me help you. Let me ease your suffering."

"Gods, you're the worst," Astarion cried and, before he could get cold feet, he crawled back to kiss the God of Ambition. He didn't expect the thrum of magic that zapped through him like lightning, even though he should have. Gale was glowing with old Netherese magic after all. It wasn't unpleasant though, thus, Astarion didn't pull away. Gale moaned – loudly, desperately, wantonly, needy – and deepened their kiss as he wrapped his arms around the vampire's neck. The Orb in his chest started to pulse with purple light, illuminating the cold marbled room. Astonished, Astarion gently stroke the mark with his fingers, hissing at the crackling magic there.

“It - it glows?”

“When - when I’m excited, yes,” Gale panted, slightly bashfully. Then, he added: "I'm - I am too."

"You're what, darling?"

"I'm lonely, sad, and hurt too. I no longer want to be alone. I miss having company I can trust."

"Yes," sobbed Astarion, desperately clinging to Gale's shoulders. "I miss it too. Please, Gale, please don't leave me. Don't go back to the Astral Planes."

"I'm not sure if I'm allowed to stay in the mortal realm, but I want to."

"You're a god. Can't gods do whatever they please?"

Gale sighed, answering: "Not always. It's complicated. But I stay as long as I can and if I must go, I'll come back as soon and for as long as I'm allowed. – If that's what you want."

Astarion nodded hastily.

"Yes, yes, I want that. Please, Gale."

"Yes," answered the God of Ambition simply and the vampire lord kept weeping.

3 months later

Astarion awoke from his reverie to the chirping of sparrows and screeching of seagulls. He stretched lazily under the white sheets, sleepily gazing at the sun-dappled room in Gale's tower in Waterdeep. Next to him, his lover stirred and Astarion turned to look at him. Gale looked ethereal as always. Like Astarion, he didn't need to sleep anymore, but he loved the sentiment of it.

"Good morning, darling."

Smiling softly, the ascended vampire lord stroke the God of Ambition's cheek, marvelling at his soft, long mane and silvery-blue, warm skin yet again.

"Good morning, dear," said Gale, voice husky from sleep.

Astarion leaned over to kiss him gently and Gale hummed happily. The vampire rolled on top of him easily, deepening their kiss while stroking his lover's hair out of his face. For a while they simply kissed, entangling their tongues, while rubbing against each other. When it wasn't enough anymore, Astarion asked: "Darling... may I?"

And Gale nodded, easily parting his legs around the vampire after the latter had pushed away the blankets.

"So gorgeous," praised Astarion before engulfing his lover's erection with his mouth.

Gale sighed blissfully, running his fingers through the vampire's white curls while closing his eyes. The latter stretched out his hand and, with a flick of Gale's wrist, a bottle of oil flew over to him. Astarion caught it easily, pouring some of the oil directly onto his lover's perineum and coating his fingers with it. Then, he started to carefully prepare Gale. Fingers pumping in and out of his hole while sucking him off. The God of Ambition panted and moaned beautifully as the Orb in his chest started pulsating with purple light. It was music to Astarion's ears.

"I'm ready," Gale panted and the vampire looked up at him, mirth sparkling in his ruby-red eyes.

"I don't deem you ready yet, darling," he retorted, basically bent his lover in half, and dove his tongue into him.

Gale almost yelled, clawing the sheets as he let out a string of moans.

"Astarion... Astarion..."

He repeated the name like a prayer and the vampire revelled in it. Gale's fingers tightened in the sheets, his hips spasming.

"Astarion!" he warned, sobbing.

The Orb in his chest started to glow brighter and brighter. The vampire knew his lover was close, thus, he kept going. Gale climaxed with a hoarse shout, spilling his seeds over his own belly and torso, and the light of the Orb exploded, making the god's entire body glow purple, almost as bright as the sun. When the light diminished, Astarion finally let go of Gale, placing one last kiss on his hole. Then, he bent forward and licked up his lover's still warm spent. When he was done, he wiggled his tongue into Gale's mouth to let him taste himself. The latter moaned and kissed back eagerly. Finally, the vampire entered his lover, slowly and carefully.

"You're so beautiful," he praised, gazing at the man beneath him through half-lidded eyes.

The God of Ambition blushed, intertwining their fingers.

"So are you," he whispered.

They kissed again, deeply but tenderly, as they made love (yes, love. They weren't fucking). Gale moaned blissfully and Astarion let out a harsh breath every time he bottomed out and his eyes threatened to roll back in his head. The vampire licked his lover's sweaty neck before biting down gently and drinking his vile but oh-so addictive blood.

"I love you," mewled Gale, throwing his head back on the pillow, and, with a loud moan, Astarion reached his high, spilling into his lover. Even through his closed eyelids, he could see how Gale emanated purple light once more. The vampire collapsed onto the God of Ambition, removed his fangs and licked the wounds until they stopped bleeding. With a deep sigh, he placed his head on Gale's shoulder.

"I love you too," he whispered.

He's content when the other man wrapped an arm around him and held him close. They dwelled like this for a while, recharging.

"I want to stay like this forever," revealed Astarion, slightly bashful.

Gale smiled, tenderly stroking the scars on his lover's back.

"Well, technically, we can," he answered teasingly and the vampire snickered.

"Yoo-hoo, Astarion, Gale!" lilted Kalina as she scuttled through the doorway and jumped up onto the bed. "Good morning, lovebirds. May I remind you that I am neither a god nor a vampire and need real substance to survive. It's already elven o'clock!"

The men chuckled amused and Astarion replied: "Of course, Kalina. We're very sorry that we forgot the time. I'll feed you right away."

With a happy purr, the tressym hopped off the bed and rushed towards the door.

"Ah, one more thing." She turned around to look at the pair with her pretty blue eyes. "I've spoken to Mrs. Dekarios and Tara and they've both agreed to visit you tomorrow."

"Really?"

Gale smiled broadly and happily. These were the moments Astarion missed his lover's human form. He'd always had such beautiful, expressive, warm, brown eyes. Now, they were simply two pools of bright, white light.

Kalina nodded.

"They're compliant on the condition that you'll meet up regularly and behave decently. No ascended, godlike behaviour and such."

"That can be arranged," Gale replied, smiling fondly.

Astarion simply nodded.

"Wonderful," the tressym purred. "And now that that's settled, I'd like my very plentiful brunch, if you'd be so kind."

Barking an amused laugh, Astarion swung out of bed, put on one of Gale's robes, and followed Kalina to the kitchen. The God of Ambition got up too, walking to the window in his birthday suit, and watched how the wheels of time and life spun.

'Fate spins along as it should' Withers had said, and he'd been right.

With a deep sigh, Gale gazed at the sea.

If I could turn back time, I would, and I'd change so many things, he thought woefully. But it's impossible and we must live with our decisions.

He smiled when Astarion wrapped his arms around his middle from behind, kissed his shoulder, and muttered: "Come back to bed, darling. I want to ride you until the sun goes down."

Even though our fates seemed dark, we've found the few specks of light in the darkness, the God of Ambition thought as he was led back to bed by his ascended vampiric lover.

Over the past three months, they'd realised that they both were still capable to feel and to love. Their true selves still existed, underneath all the power and ascension. The men clung to them more consciously now, not willing to let go of their humanity, hearts, and souls. It was a wonderful revelation.

Astarion and Gale would live forever, but they'd also love each other forever.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #fanfic #astarion x gale #astarion #astarion ancunin #gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #oc #original character #Kalina the tressym #smut #non con #mind the trigger warning

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bettermiya · 1 year

Text

Dinner Guest

Pairing: Osamu Miya x AFAB!Reader

WC: 2.8k words.

Triggers: Cannibalism, Abusive Ex, Nonconsensual Drugging, Consensual Handjob, Human Butchering against an NPC, Violence, Blood. MDNI. 18+.

Summary: Osamu offers you a perfect meal. Horror!AU. Hannibal-esque!AU.

You get home from work exhausted, but the smell coming from the kitchen is enough to wash away some of the day’s stresses. You drop your things off by the front door and slip off your shoes- you’ll get everything put into its proper place later. Right now, the aroma from the kitchen is drawing you in like one of those cartoons, a beckoning finger that pulls you forward until you are practically on top of Osamu.

“What are you making for dinner?” You peer around his broad frame to stare at the pots and pans on the stove. The smell is divine. Osamu turns to you and presses a kiss into your hair.

“Hayashi rice.” He says, letting his face linger against your head for a few moments as he takes in your scent. “It’s almost ready. Go sit, I’ll bring it over to the table.” He lightly nudges you with his hip before going back to his cooking. You linger a moment, mouth watering while he tends to the meat and sauce. He gives a small huff of a laugh and uses his chopsticks to cut free a tiny corner of meat- it’s so tender that it easily gives way. After carefully dipping it in the sauce, he cups a hand beneath the gently steaming morsel and offers it to you. As you lean in, so does he, and he meets your eyes as he gently blows on the hot food.

“Open, darlin’.”

You do, and he eases the food into your awaiting mouth. A bit of the sauce drips onto your chin, but you hardly notice. You’re melting with the warm, comforting bite. Osamu notices, however, and before you can step away to go to the dining room, he brushes his tongue slowly over your skin. Warmth spreads through the rest of your body as the tip of his tongue teases your lower lip. You lean closer, expecting a kiss, but he pulls away with a grin. “That’s all yer gettin’ for now. Go get settled ‘n get off yer feet. I’ll be done soon.”

The apartment you share with Osamu is open and spacious. You pad on sock feet from Osamu’s kingdom of ranges and spices and knife blocks into the adjoined dining room with its intimate, small table already set for two. There are candles glowing on either side of a beautiful centerpiece of fresh flowers. You take in their subtle perfume as you finally pull out your chair and take a seat. As you sit there, you close your eyes, thinking you’ll rest them just for a moment while you wait for Osamu.

You are awakened by the aroma of the rice and beef and the dark demi-glace and the sensation of Osamu’s breath against your neck. He has pulled his chair very close to yours. He kisses your jaw and nips at the lobe of your ear. Feeling a smile cross your face, you lift a hand to brush through his short hair. “Sorry. Work took a lot out of me today.”

“That’s alright, darlin’. I don’t mind. Ya look pretty when ya sleep.”

Dinner is a quiet affair. He asks you about your day in low tones in between taking bites of food and brushing his hand against your thigh and the small of your back. You are nodding by the time you finish, the stew of beef, carrots, onions, mushrooms sitting warm and comforting within your stomach. Though it’s a little embarrassing and you feel a bit guilty for not being able to stay awake long enough to spend the evening together sprawled on the couch like usual, you love the way he gathers you from the chair into his arms so easily and carries you back to bed.

His hands are strong and warm as they gently unbutton and slide away your clothes. He teases you with soft caresses and little kisses and dresses you again into a soft, clean shirt that smells of him. You try to groggily protest and ask for more attention from his mouth and hands, but he reminds you that you’ve had a hard day. “Sleep a little, and we’ll see.”

When you drift up from sleep, he is climbing into bed beside you, having finished cleaning up from dinner and changing into his own pajamas, which consist only of the soft pants of the set. You realize you are wearing his shirt that completes the set. It seems fitting. He curls up behind you, dragging you against his chest. His lips find the base of your neck, the curve of your shoulder; his teeth tug at the lobe of your ear. You’re still lingering in that hazy place between reality and dreams, sleep threatening to pull you back into its embrace.

One of his strong hands nudges up the hem of the shirt you’re wearing and glides along the plains of your bare stomach. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your underwear and gently tease the warmth between your thighs. You drift back to sleep riding waves of pleasure. Your dreams are filled with his soft murmurs.

You wake up to the sound of a door slamming. Groggily, you grab your phone and check the time. The glow of the screen scatters spots across your field of vision; the blocky numbers tell you it is early in the morning. The space beside you on the bed still holds a bit of warmth from Osamu. He must have just gotten up to go to the restaurant. Sometimes he leaves in the wee hours of the morning to buy special ingredients from the markets- usually various cuts of meat he carries home in big, dark bags. You’ve asked before to go with him, but he says there’s no reason for you to get up so early when you work such long hours and besides, you don’t really want to see a bunch of animal carcasses being chopped up, do you?

Normally you sleep through his absence and by the time you wake, he is back with all of his meat neatly packed away in his large freezer box and he is in the kitchen preparing you breakfast. It’s very rare that you wake up with him still gone. He makes sure to tire you out enough so that you never have to be alone while you are home, or so he likes to say.

You sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, and rub at your heavy eyelids. You’re having a hard time keeping yourself awake, but you want to check on the loud slamming of the door. You’re pretty sure you can also hear heavy footfalls coming down the hall. Osamu is usually so quiet, especially when you’re sleeping. Your mind still feeling a bit hazy, you stand up and pad barefoot toward the bedroom door, only for it to be shoved open.

Fear pours over you like cold water. You still feel very foggy, but there is no mistaking the figure who is standing in the doorway. It’s your ex. You have no idea how they found you after all this time. You deleted all of your old social media. You changed your number. You moved in with Osamu in a completely different city. The apartment, the restaurant– everything is in his name. You even went through the trouble of changing your name legally to prevent this exact outcome.

Your mind is not working quickly enough. You open your mouth to dumbly ask how they found you, but before you can, they are storming forward and shoving you backward. You stagger, but manage to remain standing. Lifting both of your hands, you try to speak, but they strike you across the face so violently, stars burst across your vision and you drop to your knees. Pain flares in your knees and your head; you feel like your brain has rattled about in your skull. Blood is pooling in your mouth.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” They’re screaming obscenities. They kick you in the stomach, and a mixture of blood and saliva bursts from your mouth and sprinkles the carpet. Suddenly, they snatch a handful of your hair and drag you from the room. Your brain is finally beginning to catch up with what is happening. You scream and kick and grab for their hands, trying to make them release you.

They stop, and for one moment, you think maybe by some miracle, they will stop and listen to reason. Instead, they grab the side of your head and slam it into the wall. The fight goes out of you, and you are on the verge of losing consciousness as they begin pulling you again. You tilt back your head to look up at them, and see Osamu standing behind them. There is a strange look to his face, one you haven’t seen before. His eyes are cold and calculating, his jaw is tight. He lifts both of his hands and claps them together hard against your ex’s ears.

They drop you, and your head knocks against the tiled floor of the kitchen. You didn’t even realize they had dragged you this far. You can hear your ex screaming, but it sounds dull and far away. Turning your head, you watch as Osamu grabs them by the throat and easily lifts them up, slamming them down hard onto the pristine surface of the kitchen island. From where you are lying, you can’t see exactly what happens next. Osamu lifts a knife and it comes down; your ex stops screaming, but their legs, dangling over the edge of the island, are kicking wildly.

Osamu kneels down beside you and very tenderly cups the back of your head, lifting you into a sitting position. Your head is throbbing in time with the rhythm of your frantic heartbeat and the spinning and tilting of the room is making you very nauseous. “Can ya hear me, darlin’?” His voice is very low, very calm…. almost dangerously so.

You try to nod, but that makes your head hurt worse. “Yes.” You finally manage.

“I’m real sorry,” He murmurs, kissing your temple. His eyes linger on your mouth, where your busted lip is still leaking blood onto your chin. Cupping your jaw, he leans forward and brushes his tongue along your skin and lower lip, cleaning away the smear of red from your skin. “I thought I gave ya enough to let ya sleep through this whole nasty business.”

You look at him confused. He lifts you up and sits you down in one of the dining room chairs. You can still see into the kitchen. Your ex is grabbing at the knife, which is sticking out of the middle of his throat. Your head is spinning. Everything feels just a bit unreal. Osamu steps away, but he returns quickly to your side, pressing a towel with ice inside against the back of your head. He lifts your hand and presses it to the towel. “Hold this here.” You nod and hold it.

“What did you mean before…?”

“Mm… I put something in yer drink tonight. Just somethin’ to help ya sleep. I thought it’d be enough to keep ya sleepin’ til I was done with…,” He stood up and walked over to your ex, whose struggling seems to be growing more sluggish. “Ya see, I told ‘em where to find us… the plan was to take care of ‘em without ya havin’ to be involved, but… things didn’t quite go as I planned. S’okay, though, darlin’... y’all never have to worry about ‘em ever again.”

Your mind is slow to comprehend what is happening. You watch Osamu pull free the knife, see the spray of blood arc upward like a fountain. You blink, slowly, and when you open your eyes again, you see the flash of a large cleaver. Things unfold before you in hazy flashes. Your ex’s head disappears from the counter. Osamu methodically begins butchering the body. Cuts of meat are wrapped and bound together with twine. The various cuts of meat are stacked neatly together. Osamu hums as he works. This all feels like a dream… a strange nightmare. He comes to check on you off and on during his work.

He takes away the ice and towel. His lips brush against your brow. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands and kisses your palms, the tips of your fingers. “Are ya feelin’ okay?”

Your head is still hurting, but the nausea has gone away. It must be the shock and the ice you had been holding to your battered head- you’re shivering. He touches your cheek. You are staring at the neat, wrapped packages that had once been your ex, but the fear and revulsion you should be feeling are not there. Not yet. Osamu stands again and moves back into the kitchen.

Over the next few minutes, he carries everything from the kitchen to the large freezer. “We’ll have a lovely feast when yer feelin’ better.” He promises. When he’s done, he scoops you up and carries you back to bed. After tucking you in, he kisses your forehead.

“Try to rest. I’ll keep a check on ya.”

You wake late the next day to the smell of breakfast. Osamu sets a tray beside you on the bed. There is miso soup, rice, and strips of meat. Your gaze lingers on the meat, thinking back to the strange dream you had the previous night. It must have been a dream. It couldn’t have been real, and it all seems so strange and hazy in the warm glow of the sunlight spilling into the bedroom. Osamu smiles and strokes your cheek. “I hope yer hungry.”

You eat. He watches, smiling calmly the entire time. His hand is stroking your bare thigh while you eat. When you’re done, he offers soft words of praise and draws you into his lap. You are more awake now with the full breakfast settling nicely in your stomach. The previous night begins to come into more focus. You remember the blood… you remember the meat… you think hard about the taste of the cooked meat and rice and soup on your tongue.

But his hand is drifting down… down… teasing and working between your legs while his mouth tastes your skin…

You stop thinking so hard and lose yourself in the touch… the taste…

“Yer such a good girl,” He murmurs into your neck, his voice a low rumble at the back of his throat. His touch is slow at first, a steady stroking in lazy circles. You lose track of your thoughts. Your awareness is shrinking; all you can focus on is his finger tracing those careful loops between your legs. You try to help him along by arching your hips into his hand, but he hums against your skin and gently lowers you back onto the bed. He leans over you, his hand still moving so slowly and deliberately.

“There’s no need to rush,” He says, moving his mouth to yours. His teeth catch your lower lip and scrape against the still tender flesh there. You taste a bit of your own blood, and so does he as his tongue slides into your mouth. His finger presses deeper, slowly. Your back arches. Heat is pooling in your abdomen. His finger eases back, circles. He breaks the kiss before his finger slides in again so he can hear the low moan escape your bloodied lips. He hooks his other arm beneath your head, tugging you closer. The fingers of his free hand curl beneath your jaw and tilt your head up while his thumb brushes over your lips.

He presses his thumb into your mouth, and as you run your tongue along his skin, he purrs. “Tha’s my girl.”

Two fingers now. They press into you slowly, deeply. You whimper around the thumb in your mouth as your hips arch upward into his touch. His teeth mark the skin where your neck and shoulder meet; he sucks and licks the place where he bites. He allows your hips to rise against his hand while he teases you, his fingers moving in and out in a steady rhythm. You are panting, gasping, bucking against him. This time, when his fingers slide in, he hooks them and strokes as you cry out.

Your body is quivering. Your thoughts have scattered. There was something you were thinking of, but his hands, his mouth… his tongue… his teeth… you can barely focus on anything other than the sparks of heat and pleasure in the places where he touches you. He turns your face toward him and kisses you as his fingers continue their work.

“I’m real proud of ya,” He says, his hot breath washing over your temple. His touch draws another shuddering cry from your lips. Your whole body is alight. You are beginning to tire, but he is relentless in his ministration. Again… again… your body arches into his hand… you gasp and tremble… you whimper…

When you are utterly spent, he slides his fingers free and brings them to his lips, running his tongue along them while he holds your gaze. A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Delicious.”

#osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x you #osamu miya x y/n #osamu x reader #yandere haikyuu #written by iwachan

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