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#yes i watched it two weeks ago YES I'm still thinking about it
wolfandrain · 1 year
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Me, starting Marry My Dead Body: This movie looks like it will be ridiculous and over the top and just like, a good lighthearted comedy. I am ready for a fun and silly time! :D
Me, finishing Marry My Dead Body:
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b4kuch1n · 1 year
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fuck it sk8 sketches from da sketchbook. get sk8ed idiot
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parfaitblogs · 17 days
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daylight ❀ s. reid x reader
in which communicating with your boyfriend is scary, and spencer reid can't stand to see you cry.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: comfort/fluff! tags: reader avoids her issues... for a little bit. that's kind of it. it's just fluffy and simple! word count: 1.5k a/n: something short & sweet because i thought it was cute and i write the most when i'm procrastinating assignments... um… inspired by a conversation sam willow and i were having a few nights ago🫂 reminder that pretty girls cry when they’re confronting somebody!!
Spencer Reid was not oblivious to all things in the world. In fact, he was rather perceptive compared to most people. Psychology degree and human behaviour-based job aside, he noticed things. 
A lot of it was good. He knew exactly how to wake you up on mornings he started earlier than you. How to keep you half-asleep enough to allow you your return to sleep, but also awake enough to ensure you'd remember him kissing you goodbye (there had been an argument a few months ago about it — you thought he had left without a word). He knew your go-to Thai order from the restaurant down the street, and he knew which pair of wooden chopsticks your favourite were to pull out of his kitchen drawers. 
He was also observant enough to know something was wrong. 
He was back from a case. A long one, that had worn him down enough that he felt like a pile of creaking bones when he re-entered his apartment earlier that afternoon. You had returned from your own job an hour after that, and despite the initial excitement that came from your boyfriend being back in the state again, you were a bundle of nerves. 
And he knew that.
You were on his couch, legs across his lap and back up against the arm, his hands resting comfortable in the dip between your two knees. There was a quiet episode of New Girl playing on the television (you had convinced him to watch it after he had sat you through every Star Trek movie), but your thoughts were anywhere but the sitcom you had been using to entertain yourself as of recent. 
"You've been awfully quiet," Spencer said, piercing the less than comfortable air settled around you two. 
"Sorry," you answered, tearing your gaze from the screen to look at him, meeting a worried expression you had somewhat expected. 
Hands ran up and down your legs, erupting goosebumps along the skin. "Is something wrong?" 
"No," you immediately shook your head and forced a smile onto your face. "Nothing's wrong."
He furrowed his eyebrows, lips parting in that confused look he always had on his face when he was thinking, and he stared at you for a few seconds longer, before, "Yes there is."
Profilers. "Seriously, Spence. There isn't. I'm just kind of tired tonight."
"I am as well," he said, hands stilling on your legs rather abruptly. "I was in Idaho for a week. I'm also exhausted. And usually my girlfriend is a little touchier and more talkative than this when I come home. So I'm assuming something's wrong."
"You're assuming incorrectly, then," your shoulders shrugged.
He said your name chidingly, and it was at that tone of voice that you retracted your legs from his lap, instead tucking your feet beneath yourself, gaze dropping to the couch cushion. 
"I just missed you," you told him, a slight stretch of the truth. 
"I missed you too," he said, and your shoulders softened. "But that's not all it is."
You blinked, before you fell silent, shaking your head instead. 
"Talk to me. What's happened?" his voice was achingly soft, your heart shattering in your chest to the point you wanted to take back every thought you'd had over the past week and burn them to ashes. They didn't mean much now in front of him. Not when he was reminding you of how kind he was. 
"You barely talked to me," you said, hands dropping to your lap, and you fidgeted with them under his gaze. "I never knew what was going on. You didn't call once, except for when you landed."
"I was really busy, honey," he answered, and you could hear the frown in his voice. "If I had time to do anything other than the case and sleep, you know I'd have talked to you more." 
"I know," your voice shook, and you could feel your emotions overriding your brain. As usual. So, you kept your head down. "But I would've liked you to tell me that, at least."
You heard him sigh, and curiosity got the best of you as you lifted your gaze, inspecting to see if he was sighing out of irritation or not. He wasn't — just exhaustion — and that made you feel a little better.
"I know for next time then," he said, and he met your eyes, which had watered since the last time he looked at you. Which wasn't very long ago, and so he was drawing his eyebrows together, again, confusedly. "What's that? What's wrong?"
On instinct he leaned forwards, and you let him shift his body closer to yours, hands coming up on either side of your neck. You sniffled, trying to suck the tears threatening to fall back into your eye sockets. 
"I can't communicate," you mumbled, quietly, a tear escaping and dripping down to the lower half of your cheek. 
"You communicated pretty well just then, angel," he said, voice soft as he caught the remainder of the tear and swiped it away with his thumb. 
"Yeah but—but now I'm crying," you moaned, pathetically, more tears slipping down your face. His lips twitched — though not in humour, you noted — as he adjusted his hands to your jaw, thumbs continuing to wipe falling tears. 
"Yeah. That's okay," he answered. "You've got a flood of hormones going through you right now, and so your body reacts to it in the best way it sees fit. In your case, it's tears."
"I hate it," you mumbled, and this time he did laugh a little, nodding his head. 
"I know," he said. "Are you feeling embarrassed about communicating with me?"
"I guess," you replied. "I don't know. I think I just..." you trailed off as your voice disappeared, breath beginning to hyperventilate acutely. "I—I just feel kind of sil—silly."
You cursed each sob that broke up your speech, and yet his gaze and focus on you never once wavered. In fact, his touch seemingly had grown softer, and the concern in his eyes had only grown. 
"You aren't silly," he said, once he was sure you weren't going to continue speaking. "If me not talking to you for a week upset you, I'd say that's pretty reasonable."
"I don't know..."
"Want a secret?" he asked, fingers poking into your cheeks enough for you to crack a small smile. You only nodded your head in response, chest still jolting with each sharp intake of breath. "I have to physically restrain myself from calling you every hour on a normal day."
"You're lying," you mumbled, and his smile only widened, a bashful laugh leaving his lips. 
"No, honestly. I have so much I want to talk to you about during the day, and I need to remind myself that you're busy and at work too."
A few uncontrollable tears dripped down your face, and your gaze dropped to the top of his shirt, though the smile never left your face. "I don't believe you."
"I wish you would, but that's okay," he said, evidently seeing right through your defying statement — you believed him a little.
His forefinger and thumb caught your chin, and he tilted your head back up so his eyes could meet your glassy ones. 
"I'm sorry," you murmured, before he could get a word in.
"For what?"
"Crying."
"Do you take in anything I say to you?" he chastised, though the smile on his face eliminated any fear of him being genuinely irritated, and so your shoulders simply shrugged. 
"Sometimes," you said, and his eyebrows shot up. 
"Sometimes?" he repeated back to you, and you had to bite your lip to keep the amused expression off your face. He was smiling back at you, before his face settled into something more serious, as he continued, "I don't mind you crying, angel. It breaks my heart to see it, but I'm not sitting here and judging you for it. You know that, right?"
"Yeah."
"Good," he finalised with a short nod, and you sniffled with a nod of your own. 
"I mean, technically, crying is good," you said, tongue poking between your teeth as you forced back a smile. 
"Yeah? Why's that?" 
"Releases endorphins and oxytocin."
He huffed a single laugh through his nose, nodding his head. "Yes. It does."
"I know things," you grinned. 
"You do," he agreed with a nod. "My smart girl."
"Yeah. Don't ever forget it."
"I could never," he replied, and a comfortable silence enveloped your two bodies, your heart fluttering in your chest. 
"Can you tell me about Idaho?" you finally asked him.
"You really want to know?" 
You nodded your head, and he sighed, but complied regardless. And you eventually found your head in his lap, staring up at him as one hand danced gently over the skin of your slightly exposed stomach, the other entangled in your hair, brushing through it. 
And he told you about the case he had been away on — it became glaringly obvious behind why he hadn't called or messaged you at all — and consequently eased any other remaining worries behind it.
And it dried your tears up.
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
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deadsetobsessions · 8 months
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What Do You Have There?
A knife!
Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.
They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.
The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.
A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.
"Danny."
"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.
"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."
Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.
"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.
Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.
"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"
"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.
"Why on earth would you display that?"
"Because you stabbed me with it?"
"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"
"That would be mean!"
Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.
"Do you want to see my collection?"
"Your collection?"
"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."
Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.
"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"
Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.
"And when was this?"
"Oh, like a week ago."
"What? When did you go to the docks?!"
"At night. I couldn't sleep."
"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"
"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"
"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"
Danny and Damian turned around.
"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.
"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.
"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."
"What?!"
"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"
With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."
Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"
"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.
Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.
"Oh, wow, I see!"
----
In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.
"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.
----
Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.
"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.
"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.
"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.
"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"
"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."
Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.
"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.
"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."
Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."
And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.
"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."
"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.
"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.
"Do you know which vigilantes?"
"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."
Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.
"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."
Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.
"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."
"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."
"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"
Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.
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cosmos-coma · 8 months
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My Sun, My Star
A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.
Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader
Words: 6756
Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??
Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist
Like what I do? Consider buying me a Coffee!
________________
Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat. 
You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.
“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him. 
“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup. 
“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.” 
You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.  
‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’  you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send. 
“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”
You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held. 
“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.
Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner. 
----
Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation. 
“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?” 
“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again. 
“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.
“SAM.” 
“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”
No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.
He should’ve listened. 
It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried. 
“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.  
“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms. 
“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet. 
They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten. 
He should have listened. 
Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung. 
At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn. 
“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake. 
“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over. 
Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.  
“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”
Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him. 
“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.” 
Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be. 
But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.
“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.
The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click. 
As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.
“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend. 
However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.
---
The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead. 
His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.
The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence. 
The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.
With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door. 
His door.
Your door.
The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.
A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?
“Hmmph”  
His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached. 
The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise. 
His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.  
“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.
Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour. 
With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently. 
“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.
His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.
His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question. 
A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.
“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.
 You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.
So much for that
Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.
Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away. 
With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more. 
Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal. 
Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body. 
But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin. 
His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning? 
“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.
“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him. 
“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better. 
“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.
A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.
His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin. 
“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.
But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission. 
Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not. 
“Oh. I-” 
CRASH.
You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere. 
Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on. 
Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?
“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands. 
“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.
You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, 
His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way. 
He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you. 
“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”
Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room. 
“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden- 
BANG.
“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet. 
You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways. 
Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid. 
You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again. 
“No…!”
A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air. 
Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.
“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team. 
“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.
“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again. 
“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”
“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.
“Sol-”
“Мое солнце  [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive. 
“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive. 
“I can’t do this without you…” 
The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place. 
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.” 
A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].” 
You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague. 
Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.
“Let’s get you two to the tower…” 
----
The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab. 
Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.
“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work. 
“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly. 
You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.
"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.
“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.
You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.
He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.
He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?
"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.
But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."
Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."
The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.
Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.
A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.
"Yes?"
“Is it time…?”
You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.
You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.
He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?” 
Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.
 It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss. 
But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….” 
-----
You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head. 
“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…” 
“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”
You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.
Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye. 
Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well. 
“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.
“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.
He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began. 
You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry. 
“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.
“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.
Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”
_____________
Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)
It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!
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buckets-and-trees · 30 days
Text
Obsidian Stain and Sin
Characters/Pairings: soft!dark Ari Levinson x Female!Reader, soft!dark Curtis Everett x Female!Reader, Ari x Reader x Curtis Word Count: 8.1k Summary: You've thought of getting your first tattoo for quite a while. When you walk into Obsidian Stain Studio, you experience services beyond anything you bargained for.
Content/Warnings: tattooing/needles, DUBIOUS CONSENT, explicit smut, semi-public sex, vaginal fingering, kissing, anal play/rimming (female receiving), eating it from behind, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, praise kink, innocence kink, corruption kink, size kink, manhandling, fade to black/abrupt ending
Author Notes: I've had this idea all summer. I've been eager to write it, but literally the muse only kept teasing me with it until literally about six hours ago when she said, WE'RE DOING THIS, AND WE'RE DOING THIS NOW, so it's almost late/maybe it's still you're birthday week for a hot minute in some time zone, but I'm slipping this to you @stargazingfangirl18 for your Birthday Bonenanza! Literally, when I tell you that when you originally tagged me in the announcement, and I read over the myriad of prompts, I thought, "Oh, wow, this is so tattoo Curtis and Ari coded, it HAS TO happen for Siri's birthday..." that's really how my brain thought it was finally going to get the jump on working on this. But then no. Then that other Steve story happened, and I was stoked about that. Then the new chapter for Nomad Steve, and I thought, ah well, still fun stuff, maybe someday this, and then AT THE LAST MOMENT, Muse pulled a plot twist. So here's some ruinous hoe shit. Multiple dialogue prompts from the challenge are used here, and you'll find them in bold.
A/N 2: Shout out to @vonalyn for a few convos hashing out some of this concept!
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You are surprised by the tinkling of a classic bell hanging over the door that rings pleasantly as you enter the tattoo parlor.
A man behind the reception desk immediately looks up to greet you. He doesn’t shoot you a phony, business-y smile, but his demeanor is still warm and approachable. “Welcome,” he greets you. “Walk-in or appointment?” he asks.
“Um, walk-in,” you manage. In a black t-shirt with shoulders that are nearly bursting through the fabric, lush hair and beard, and striking blue eyes, he’s more than an impressive specimen. “If you’ve got an opening?” you quickly add.
“Sure, we can take you,” he says. His gaze flicks to a scheduling book in front of him on the counter. “A couple of the boys are on break or about to finish up with other clients. Your first time here, yes?”
You nod. “First tattoo ever.”
“Oh,” he says, and his eyes brighten. “Even better. Let’s get you booked in.”
He takes your name, email, and phone number to set up a profile for you in their system. There are some electronic consent forms that he takes you through and has you agree to and sign on an iPad, and then he takes asks a few questions about what you’re interested in.
“Based off what you have in mind, Curtis might be the best artist, but he won’t be finished for maybe an hour.”
“Ah,” you look at your watch. It was a bit of an impromptu idea for you to drop in to get the tattoo this afternoon, and you had time, but you had probably been foolish thinking a walk-in was any sort of good idea.
“But,” he interjects, “I’ve got two other guys who are excellent, and either one of them should be ready to take you pretty soon. Take a seat just over there, and I’ll go check in with them and get a call on time for you. I’ll also grab you a drink. Pick your poison - we’ve got water or Coke products.”
You give him your preference, and he nods and smiles.
“Right then, sit tight, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He disappears around the corner, and you do as you’ve been told and take a seat on one of the black leather couches in the lobby.
Now you have time to really take in your surroundings. The walls are black with white moldings at the floor and ceiling, and the hardwood floors are a warm walnut. Everything is dark but clean. Classic but clearly in line with current trends. On the wall behind the desk, there’s a gorgeous, white-lettered feature with shop name - Obsidian Stain Studio - that’s sleek and impressive. On the wall next to you, there are ten framed pieces of art on the wall in a mix of sizes, some of them hand-drawn artwork, and the rest photos of finished tattoos on skin.
You’re nervous but determined not to be, so you cross your legs and try to keep your anxious energy limited to just running your fingers back and forth over the edge of your phone. Looking at the different designs on the wall does serve to capture your attention, though, and quell your nerves slightly.
The man working reception returns and hands you the drink. “We should have you back there in a chair in ten or fifteen minutes.”
“Great,” you respond, and the nerves kick up a notch, but it’s with a surge of excitement.
This is happening.
You take a sip of your drink, grateful for something to occupy your hands. The cool liquid helps soothe your nerves a bit. As you wait, you observe a few other clients entering and leaving the shop checking in or paying as they leave. Some sport fresh bandages, while others are clearly here for consultations, clutching sketches or reference photos.
The buzzing of tattoo machines creates a constant backdrop of sound, occasionally punctuated by muffled laughter or conversation from the back rooms. The atmosphere is more relaxed than you expected, nineties music underscoring it all.
As you wait, a couple emerges from behind the partition separating the lobby from the work area. They're both grinning, the woman cradling her forearm gently. Her companion is animatedly discussing something with her, gesturing excitedly. You catch a glimpse of fresh ink on her skin as they pass – a vibrant butterfly with intricate, colorful wings.
The sight makes your heart race a little faster. Soon, that'll be you walking out with fresh art on your body. The thought is both thrilling and slightly terrifying.
But you won’t be walking out with a friend or partner.
Your gaze wanders back to the artwork on the walls. One piece in particular catches your eye – an intricate mandala design with flowing lines and delicate detail. You find yourself drawn to its symmetry and complexity.
"Which one’s got your attention?" a voice asks, startling you from your reverie. You look up to see someone you can only describe as a lion of a man standing before you. All of his attention is focused on you like you’re his next prey. He towers over you with a mane of golden brown hair that’s grown out to tuck nicely behind his ears and curls out at his neck. He’s got a broad chest and shoulders covered in a denim shirt with a few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. You can see peeks of ink mingled with some chest hair as well as intricate designs over his forearms. His dark blue eyes are zeroed in on you in a way that both unsettles and steadies you at the same time.
You point at the mandala, and the man smiles. “That’s one of Steve’s. He says you’re here for your first tattoo.”
“He… wait, is that Steve?” You nod and glance over at the man at the front desk who’s now consulting with an older man and showing him a few designs.
“Yep, he owns the place and loves to work the front almost as much as the back with the rest of us. I’m Ari, by the way.” He puts his hand out, inviting you to shake hands.
You push up from the couch, stand, and offer your hand for the shake. It’s engulfed easily by his big, warm, calloused hand.
“I’m the one who’s going to make your first time special.”
Your heart stutters and your face flushes. He didn’t just… your mind races. Did he?
He chuckles and drops your hand quickly. “Follow me,” he says and turns and begins striding into the back.
You fall into step behind Ari, your eyes inevitably drawn to his broad shoulders and the confident swagger in his step. The back area is an open space divided into several stations with partial walls, each with its own tattoo chair and equipment, creating semi-private booths. Ari leads you to one in the back corner.
"Have a seat," he says, gesturing to the chair.
You perch on the edge, your nerves returning full force. The air is thick with the scent of antiseptic and ink.
He pulls up a rolling stool and sits, leaning in close. "So, tell me about this tattoo you want."
You explain your idea - a simple constellation of stars for your zodiac sign - watching as his blue eyes light up with interest. He nods along, occasionally asking questions or offering suggestions. His enthusiasm is infectious, and you find yourself relaxing despite the butterflies in your stomach.
"Alright, I think I know what you're after," Ari says, reaching for a sketchpad. "Let me rough out a design for you."
You watch, mesmerized, as Ari's hand moves swiftly across the paper. His brow furrows in concentration, and you find yourself studying the angles of his face, the way his beard accentuates his strong jaw. Within minutes, he presents you with a design that takes your breath away.
"What do you think?" he asks, a hint of pride in his voice.
The constellation is there, just as you imagined, but Ari has added subtle details that elevate it beyond your expectations. Delicate lines connect the stars, and a hint of shadowing gives the piece depth and movement.
"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the sketch.
Ari grins, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Great. Now, let's talk placement."
You indicate the spot you've chosen - your inner wrist. Ari nods approvingly. "Good choice. Nice and visible, but easy to cover if needed. Mind if I take a look?"
You extend your arm, and Ari gently takes your wrist in his large hands. His touch is surprisingly soft as he examines the area, his fingers tracing the spot where your tattoo will soon be. You can't help but notice the contrast between his rough, inked skin and your own unmarked flesh.
"Nice canvas," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "Skin's good here. This'll work well." He looks up, catching your eye. "Ready to get started?"
You nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest.
“You’re a sweet, innocent thing, aren’t you?”
You open your mouth but shut it again, unsure how to respond, and he brushes his thumb over the pulse on your inner wrist, and you think you see his eyes darken.
He releases your wrist and turns to prepare his equipment. You’re frozen in place, but luckily that’s fine as it’s not necessary for you to move. You watch as he efficiently sets up his station, laying out ink caps, adjusting his machine, and pulling on a fresh pair of black latex gloves. The buzz of the tattoo machine as he tests it sends a jolt of excitement and nervousness through you.
"Alright, I'm going to clean the area now," he says, swabbing your wrist.
His touch is clinical now, professional, as he prepares your skin. The cool antiseptic makes you shiver slightly.
"Cold?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"A little," you admit.
"Don't worry, I’ll have you warm soon enough," he says with a wink that makes your cheeks flush.
Ari places the stencil on your wrist, pressing it gently to transfer the design. When he peels it away, you see the outline of your constellation on your skin for the first time. It sends a thrill through you - this is really happening.
"Make sure you’re happy with the placement before we start," he instructs. "This is your last chance to change your mind."
You focus to examine the design on your skin more closely, heart racing. It looks even better than you imagined.
"It's perfect," you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice.
Ari grins. "Alright then, let's make it permanent. You ready?"
You nod, settling back into the chair and extending your arm.
Ari takes your arm gently, positioning it just so on the armrest. "Now, I need you to stay as still as possible," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's going to hurt a bit, especially at first. But I promise, I'll be as gentle as I can."
The buzz of the machine fills your ears as Ari brings the needle to your skin. You hold your breath, bracing for the pain.
The first touch of the needle is a sharp, burning sensation that makes you wince. Ari pauses, his eyes flicking to your face. "You okay?"
You nod, determined. "I'm fine. Keep going."
“Move an inch, and you’ll be sorry.”
You open your mouth wordlessly again, and he laughs.
“Only joking. I know you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”
You bite your lip and nod, something fluttering in your stomach, mixing wickedly with your nerves and the uncertainty around this man who skirts between being casual, soothing your nerves, concentration on his craft, and making these comments that insinuate and evoke wholly inappropriate thoughts.
He smiles, then concentrates back on your wrist and resumes his work. Gradually, the initial shock of pain fades into a more manageable discomfort. You find yourself relaxing, mesmerized by the steady movement of Ari's hand and the way the muscles in his biceps move and flex.
As Ari continues, your eyes shift to his face. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his blue eyes focused intently on your skin. There's something mesmerizing about watching him work, seeing the care and precision he puts into every line. The buzz of the machine becomes almost soothing, a constant backdrop to the occasional murmur of voices from other stations.
"So," Ari says after a while, breaking the silence without looking up from his work, "what made you decide to get your first tattoo today?"
You hesitate, unsure how much to share. "It's… kind of a long story."
Ari glances up, a small smile playing on his lips. "We've got time. I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you."
You take a deep breath, wincing slightly as the needle hits a sensitive spot. "I've been thinking about it for a while. But today… today felt like it was finally the day to take the leap."
"Spontaneous decision, huh? Those can be the best kind."
You nod, feeling the heat creep up your neck. "I guess I just wanted to do something for myself. Something permanent.”
Ari nods thoughtfully, his eyes still focused on your wrist. "Sometimes we need a physical reminder of the changes we're making inside," he says softly. "Something to look at and think, 'Yeah, I did that. I made that choice.'"
His words resonate with you, and you find yourself relaxing further. The pain has faded to a dull, almost pleasant sensation.
"So, what's your story?" you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "How did you get into tattooing?"
Ari chuckles, pausing to wipe away excess ink. "Now that's definitely a long story. But the short version? I was a troubled kid, got into some bad stuff. Tattooing saved me, gave me a purpose."
He glances up, meeting your eyes. "There's something powerful about creating permanent art on someone's body.”
The words send another thrill through your body and you nod, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens at his intense gaze. "I can see that," you manage to say.
Ari returns his attention to your wrist, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's intimate, you know? Creating something that becomes a part of someone forever."
The word 'intimate' hangs in the air between you, charged with unspoken tension. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hand on your skin, the gentle pressure as he works.
“You’re the one Steve says I nearly got to mark for the first time,” a new voice startles you, and you jump slightly in your chair.
Ari tsks, but his left hand had been holding your arm down firmly.
The other man chuckles. “Sorry, sugar.”
He steps closer, coming into Ari’s booth. He looks to be slightly taller than Ari, and a shade leaner, but he’s still built with more muscles than the common man. His hair is dark, shorn close to his head, and a dark beard covers his angular jaw. Ice blue eyes pierce into you, and you fight hard to suppress an actual shiver running down your spine.
"Curtis," Ari says without looking up, his tone a mix of amusement and mild irritation. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"
Curtis leans against the partition, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement draws your attention to the intricate tattoos covering his forearms. He’s got more ink than Ari.
"Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Steve said we had a noteworthy first-timer."
You feel your face flush, unsure whether to be flattered or embarrassed. Curtis's gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he looks you over.
"Well, now you've seen," Ari says, his voice tight. "Don't you have your own client to attend to?"
Curtis huffs. "Just finished up. Thought I'd come say hello." He turns his attention back to you. "How're you holding up, sweetheart? Ari treating you right?"
You nod, finding your voice. "He's been great," you manage to say, your voice a bit shaky. "It doesn't hurt as much as I expected."
Curtis grins, a glint in his eye. "Oh, Ari knows how to make it feel good, doesn't he?"
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks at the innuendo. Ari's hand tightens slightly on your wrist, and you see his jaw clench.
"Curtis," Ari says, his tone a clear warning.
Curtis holds up his hands. "Alright, alright. I can take a hint." He fixes his gaze once again on your face. "Maybe next time you'll let me be the one to mark you up. Lot more skin still to explore."
With that, he stalks away, leaving a charged atmosphere in his wake. You can feel the tension radiating off Ari as he resumes his work on your tattoo, his jaw clenched.
“Sorry about that,” Ari says after a moment, his voice low. "Curtis can be… intense."
You nod, still feeling flustered from the encounter. "It's okay," you manage to say, trying to calm your racing heart.
Ari looks up at you, his blue eyes searching your face. "You alright? Need a break?"
You shake your head. "No, I'm fine. Let's keep going."
He nods, returning his attention to your wrist. The buzz of the machine fills the silence between you once more. You try to focus on the sensation, the slight sting as the needle moves across your skin, rather than the lingering tension in the air.
After a few minutes, Ari speaks again. "You know, you don't have to let anyone pressure you into anything you're not comfortable with. Not here, not anywhere."
His words surprise you, and you meet his gaze. There's a protective glint in his eye, but he quickly returns his attention to your wrist. Ari's movements become more deliberate, almost possessive, as he continues working on your tattoo. The tension in the air is palpable, and you find yourself hyper-aware of every point of contact between your skin and his.
"Almost done," he murmurs after what feels like both an eternity and no time at all. "Just a few more touches."
You watch as he adds the final details, marveling at how the constellation seems to come to life on your skin. When he finally sits back, setting down the machine, you can't help but gasp.
"It's beautiful," you breathe.
Ari's eyes meet yours, a mixture of pride and something deeper in his gaze. “It suits you perfectly."
You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words. Ari gently wipes away the last traces of excess ink, revealing the full beauty of your new tattoo. The stars seem to shimmer on your skin, the delicate lines connecting them creating a sense of movement and depth.
"Now, let's get this wrapped up and I'll go over the aftercare instructions with you," Ari says, reaching for a roll of clear film.
As he carefully covers your new tattoo, his fingers brush against your skin, sending little sparks of electricity through you. You can't help but notice how his large hands handle your wrist with such care and precision.
"There," he says, smoothing down the edges of the wrap. "All protected."
Ari walks you to the front, and your heart races when you see Steve and Curtis speaking quietly with their heads together. Ari clears his throat, and at the sight of you, Curtis nods, rakes his gaze over you once more. “Come back soon, sugar.”
You feel a shiver run down your spine at Curtis's words, but Ari's steady presence beside you helps ground you. Steve steps forward, a warm smile on his face.
"How did it go?" he asks, his eyes flickering to your wrapped wrist.
"It was amazing," you reply, unable to keep the excitement from your voice. "Ari did an incredible job." You extend your wrist, showing off your new tattoo.
Steve nods approvingly. "Beautiful work. Ari’s one of our best. Let's get you checked out."
As Steve begins to ring up your work, Ari leans against the counter beside you. His arm brushes against yours, and you're acutely aware of his proximity.
"Remember," he says softly, his voice low enough that only you can hear, "take care of it. It's a part of you now."
You nod, shyly meeting his intense gaze, looking up at him through your lashes. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.
Ari's eyes soften, and he reaches out, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the wrap on your wrist. "Good girl," he murmurs, the words sending a shiver down your spine.
Steve clears his throat, breaking the moment. "All set," he says, handing you a receipt. "We hope to see you again soon."
You nod, suddenly feeling flustered. "Thank you," you manage to say, gathering your things.
As you turn to leave, Ari's hand catches your elbow gently. "Wait," he says, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small business card and presses it into your hand. "In case you have any questions about the aftercare. Or anything else."
Your fingers brush as you take the card, and you feel a jolt of electricity at the contact. You look down at the card, noting the personal cell phone number scrawled on it. "Thank you."
Ari's blue eyes lock with yours, intense and filled with unspoken promise.
You barely seem to turn away, but somehow manage to break off from the eye contact, and quickly rush out of Obsidian Stain Studio.
You keep Ari’s business card, but as the weeks go by, you don’t use it.
After a couple of months, you move the card from the spot next to where you keep your keys where you see it every day, into the top drawer of your desk. Out of frequent sight, but not out of mind completely.
It’s a solid six months before you return to Obsidian Stain again, but ultimately you do. The bell jingles above your head as you step inside.
The tattoo on your wrist had healed beautifully, and you loved seeing it on your skin. You had decided fairly soon afterwards that you wanted another tattoo, but even after saving up for your next one, it had taken you longer to decide whether to return Obsidian or not, the experience with Ari and encounters with Curtis leaving you torn between terrified and desperately curious to go back.
Ultimately the allure was too strong to deny.
But, more logically, although finally going in to get your first tattoo had been on a whim, you had been very thorough in narrowing down and exploring your options for months before. You knew they were one of the best in your area, especially for the style you wanted, and the price point you knew you could afford while still ensuring quality.
Unwilling to make an appointment, though, you were going to gamble on a walk-in again.
No one was immediately at the front desk, but at the sound of the bell, Steve quickly appears. “Welcome back,” he said, a broad grin on his face.
“Walk-in?” you ask, and remind him of your name.
“Oh, I remember you.” Steve beckons you forward. “Let me see that wrist,” he says.
You offer your arm with pride, and he smiles warmly.
“Looks good. You hit us on a slow day, perfect for a walk in. I’ll get you booked in, and then I’ll take you right back.”
You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness as Steve leads you to the back. The familiar scent of antiseptic and ink fills your nostrils, bringing back memories of your last visit. Your eyes scan the room, half hoping and half dreading to see a certain tattooist.
"Curtis is free right now," Steve says, guiding you to a station. "He'll take good care of you."
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Curtis's name. You remember his intense gaze, his bold words from your last visit. Part of you is disappointed it's not Ari, but another part is intrigued.
Curtis looks up as you approach, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Well, well. Look who's back," he says, his ice blue eyes locking onto yours.
You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very exposed under his gaze. "Hi," you manage evenly.
Curtis's eyes rake over you. "I was hoping you'd come back to us," he says, his voice low and smooth. "What can I do for you today, sugar?"
You begin to explain the design you have in mind - a delicate, line art floral piece. As you talk, Curtis listens intently, occasionally nodding or asking questions. His focus is entirely on you, making you feel both nervous and oddly thrilled.
“And where do you want it?” he finally asks.
You trace an area of your other arm - opposite of the one with your inked-up wrist — moving your above, over, and below the crook of your elbow.
“Hmm,” he hums. “You sure?”
Your eyes shoot to his. “Yes?” an edge of hesitation now in your voice at his query.
He narrows his eyes slightly, then shakes his head. “No.”
“No?”
“No. A piece like this could work well there, but that’s not where you want me to put this.”
“It… isn’t?”
“No, it should go here,” he says, and he reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly over your ribs instead, causing you to shiver.
He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair. As you settle in, Curtis rolls his stool closer, leaning in. "Now, this is going to be a bit more intense than your wrist. You sure you're ready for it?"
You nod, trying to project confidence despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "I'm ready."
Curtis grins, a predatory glint in his eye. "That's what I want to hear from that pretty mouth. Now just sit tight and wait for me while I draw something up.”
Your heart races as you lean back in the chair, Curtis's words echoing in your mind, causing heat to pool in your core. You watch, mesmerized by the intensity of his focus. After a few minutes, he turns back to you, holding up the sketch.
"What do you think?" he asks.
Your breath catches in your throat. The design is beautiful - delicate flowers and vines intertwining in a way that would perfectly follow the curve of your ribs.
"It's perfect," you breathe, unable to take your eyes off the design.
Curtis smirks, clearly pleased with your reaction. "Alright then, let's get started. I'm going to need you to lift your shirt for me."
Your cheeks flush as you slowly raise the hem of your shirt, exposing your ribs. Curtis's eyes darken as they roam over your skin.
"Beautiful canvas," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
You feel exposed, knowing your own soft belly and imperfections, but he looks at you in a way that has your head spinning, it’s a hunger that’s almost reverent.
“Better if you take your shirt off for me, sugar,” he says, his tone firm.
Head swirling, you don’t think to refuse, just do as you’re told. With trembling hands, you pull your shirt over your head, feeling incredibly vulnerable as you sit there in just your bra. Curtis's eyes roam over your exposed skin, a look of satisfaction on his face.
"That's better," he says, his voice low and approving. "Now, let's get you positioned just right."
His hands, surprisingly gentle, guide you to lie back and slightly to the side. You shiver as his fingers trail along your ribs, mapping out where the tattoo will go.
"Nervous?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.
He already knows the answer, but you nod, not trusting your voice.
Curtis leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you."
Your breath catches in your throat at his words. He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you.
Curtis begins to clean and prepare your skin, his touch clinical yet somehow still intimate. You try to steady your breathing, hyperaware of every point of contact between his hands and your body.
"Now, this is going to hurt more than your wrist did," Curtis warns, his voice low. "But I know you can take it. You're tougher than you look, aren't you, sugar?"
You nod, steeling yourself for the pain. The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the air, and then you feel the first bite of the needle against your skin. You gasp, your body tensing.
"Breathe," Curtis instructs, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, grounding you. "That's it, nice and steady."
As he works, Curtis surprisingly stokes and then keeps up a steady stream of conversation. Mostly it’s inquiry after inquiry, forcing you to focus on finding words, but his deep voice also helps to distract you from the pain. He asks about your life, your interests. You find yourself opening up, sharing more than you intended about your life, your dreams, your fears. His voice continues to provide the counterpoint to the buzz of the tattoo machine.
"You're doing so well," Curtis murmurs, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work. "Such a good girl for me."
The praise sends a shiver through you, and you bite your lip to stifle a small moan. Curtis notices, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
"Sensitive, aren't you?" he says, his voice low. "I like that."
Your cheeks flush, but you can't deny the thrill his words send through you. The pain of the tattoo blends into the sensations he’s evoking as his hands move with practiced precision across your skin.
"So, sugar, what made you come back for more ink?" he asks, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before returning to his work.
You take a shaky breath before answering. "I loved how the first one turned out. And… I guess I wanted to experience it again."
Curtis chuckles, darkly. "Addictive, isn't it? The pain, the permanence... the intimacy of it all."
His words make your heart race, and you're acutely aware of how close he is, how vulnerable you are beneath his hands.
"Speaking of your first time," Curtis continues, the steadying hand that had been at your waist ghosting just a little lower, "Ari seemed quite taken with you. Did you ever give him a call?"
The question catches you off guard, and you feel a flush creep up your neck. "No, I… I didn't," you admit softly.
Curtis's hand stills for a moment, and he looks up at you, his ice blue eyes intense. "No? Now that's interesting. Why not, sugar?"
You swallow hard, unsure how to answer, yet unable to stop the words from flowing. "I... I guess I was nervous," you finally say.
A slow smile spreads across Curtis's face. "Nervous? Of Ari? Or of what you felt?”
Your cheeks flush at his perceptiveness. "Both, maybe," you whisper.
“Or maybe you were waiting for something else?" His hand resumes its work, but the touch his anchor hand seems more deliberate now, each movement charged with unspoken intent.
"I don't know what you mean.”
Curtis chuckles, a low, dark sound that sends shivers down your spine. "I think you do, sugar. I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you came back here today."
His words hang in the air between you, charged with tension. You can't bring yourself to deny it, can't even find your voice to respond. Curtis seems to take your silence as confirmation.
"That's what I thought," he murmurs, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"
The buzz of the tattoo machine fills the silence as Curtis returns his focus to your ribs. You try to steady your breathing, acutely aware of every point of contact between his skin and yours. The pain of the tattoo blends with the heat pooling in your core, creating a heady mix of sensations.
"Tattoo nearly done," Curtis says after what feels like hours.
You let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and disappointment washing over you. The intense experience is coming to an end, but part you that scares you doesn't want it to.
"Just a few more touches," Curtis murmurs, his eyes focused intently on your skin, and the buzz of the machine continues for a few more minutes.
"There we go," Curtis murmurs. He wipes away the excess ink, then sits back to admire his work. His eyes roam over your exposed skin, a mixture of professional pride and something darker in his gaze. "Want to take a look?"
You nod, not trusting your voice. Curtis helps you sit up, steadying you with a hand on your lower back as you move to face the mirror. Your breath catches in your throat as you see the intricate design now adorning your ribs. The delicate flowers and vines seem to bloom across your skin, following the curves of your body perfectly.
"It's perfect," you whisper, unable to take your eyes off the mirror.
Curtis's smile widens, and his eyes darken. "Of course it is. I knew exactly what you needed."
His words send another shiver through you, but then suddenly you feel the heat of him too close, and he’s pressed right up against your back, planting his large hands on your hips and caging you in.
"You're trembling," Curtis murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, holding you steady against him. "Are you scared, sugar?"
You can't find your voice to answer, your heart pounding in your chest. You're acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies - his broad chest against your back, his strong hands on your hips, the heat of him seeping through your skin.
"Or maybe," he continues, his voice low and dark, "you're excited."
One of his hands slides up your side, carefully avoiding the fresh tattoo, until it comes to rest just below your breast. Your breath hitches, and you see your pupils dilate in the mirror's reflection.
"That's what I thought," Curtis says, satisfaction clear in his tone. "You've been thinking about this, haven't you? Since the moment you walked in.”
You can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the faint scent of ink and something uniquely him. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you.
"Tell me, sugar," Curtis murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Did you come back here hoping to see Ari? Or were you hoping it would be me?"
You swallow hard, your mind spinning. "I… I don't know," you manage to whisper.
Curtis chuckles, the sound low and dark. "I think you do know. I think you've been thinking about this for months." His hands slide up and down your sides, careful to avoid the fresh tattoo. "Thinking about what it would be like if you came back. If you let yourself give in."
Your breath hitches. “No.”
“No?” he challenges. His right hand, still gloved, audaciously slips past your waistband and down the front of your panties to cup your pussy. He laughs softly, discovering a growing wetness there. “Yes.”
You gasp as Curtis's hand begins to stroke your most intimate area, your body betraying you with its response. Your mind races, torn between the thrill of his touch and the shock at how quickly things have escalated.
"Wait," you manage to breathe out, your voice shaky. "We shouldn't…"
Curtis pauses, his hand stilling but not withdrawing. "Why not?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Your body is telling me a different story, sugar."
You're acutely aware of how exposed you are, standing there in just your bra with Curtis pressed against your back, his hand between your legs. The mirror reflects your flushed face and wide eyes, Curtis's intense gaze locked on you.
"Someone could walk in," you whisper, a weak protest even to your own ears.
Curtis chuckles darkly. "They could.”
Your mind is spinning, caught between the intense sensations and the voice in your head screaming that this is wrong, that you shouldn't be doing this here, now, with him. But your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch.
"Curtis," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky, and tears springing up in your eyes. "We can’t—"
"Shh," he soothes, his free hand coming up to gently grip your throat. Not choking, just holding. "Don't overthink it, sugar. Just feel."
His fingers continue their exploration, finding your clit and circling it slowly. You bite back a moan, plant your hands on the mirror, and your hips rock back against him.
“Fuck, knew you wanted this,” he speaks directly into your ear.
You whimper and shake your head, but then his hand moves up to cover your mouth. “Gotta keep more quiet than that unless you want someone else to join us, sugar.”
Your eyes desperately seek his in the mirror, fear flashing in them, and the tears begin to spill over. There’s a predatory glint in his icy blue gaze.
His fingers continue their skilled ministrations, drawing forth sensations you've never experienced before. Your body betrays you, responding eagerly to his touch despite your mind's protests. You're caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions - fear, excitement, shame, and an overwhelming, undeniable pleasure.
"Look at yourself," Curtis commands softly, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror. "See how beautiful you are like this."
You force yourself to look, to really see yourself - flushed cheeks, wide eyes, chest heaving with each ragged breath. Curtis behind you, his large frame dwarfing yours, his hand between your legs, the other still gently but firmly covering your mouth.
Curtis's eyes meet yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and predatory. The fear in your eyes seems to excite him further, his grip on you tightening slightly.
"Don't worry, sugar," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew all those pretty tears were just for show, you want this just as badly as I do, andI've got you."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted to. And yet, there's a part of you that thrills at the danger, at the forbidden nature of what's happening.
Curtis's fingers continue their skilled exploration, drawing involuntary gasps and moans from you that are muffled by his hand. Each deliberate movement sends waves of sensation coursing through your body, igniting a fire that you never expected to feel. Your body continues to betray you, responding to his touch despite your mind's protests, creating a tumultuous conflict within you. The thrill of the moment is undeniable, yet a flicker of apprehension lingers in the background, whispering the dangers of being caught in such an intimate entanglement, making it impossible to pull away.
"Damn, that’s a pretty sight,” a familiar voice jolts you nearly out of your skin, and you whip your head around to see Ari looming in the entry.
Curtis stops only for a moment and looks over his shoulder at the other man. "Didn't anyone teach you it's rude to interrupt?"
Ari shrugs, all nonchalance, and palms the large bulge pressing at the front of his jeans.
Your heart races, caught between exhilaration and apprehension. The sight of Ari standing there, a blend of curiosity, mischief, and lust in his eyes, adds an element of unpredictability that excites and terrifies you.
Curtis grunts, then says, “I’m not stopping, but I’ll share.”
Your jaw would have dropped to the floor in that moment had Curtis’s hand not been holding it in place, securing your response and anchoring you to the present. The idea of a threesome, tantalizing yet fraught with risk, swirls in your mind. How did this escalate so quickly? The thought of being discovered sends a shiver down your spine, but the allure of the forbidden is intoxicating, pulling you deeper into the moment.
You sob, overwhelmed and afraid, but it’s muffled as Curtis turns your body around with him, his grip firm yet reassuring His fingers are still moving, relentless and sure, and you can hardly focus on anything else. Your mind races through the possibilities, the dangerous thrill of being discovered adding an exhilarating layer to the encounter. Would Ari join in, or would he simply stand by and watch, adding to the intensity of the moment? The idea of indulging in such a forbidden experience fills you with a mix of dread and excitement, as if you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to leap into the unknown.
Ari pulls a privacy curtain you had failed to notice across the opening to the booth before taking the few short steps to close the distance between you. This sudden shield from prying eyes heightens the anticipation, transforming the atmosphere into one charged with desire and unspoken possibilities. Ari traces the back of his forefinger down the column of your throat, down your sternum, between your breasts, and then circles around the expanse of your new tattoo, eyes roaming over the beautiful design.
Not to be forgotten, Curtis tweaks your clit, cracking the pleasure that had been mounting like a whip, demanding an orgasm from your body, and you tremble in his arms as you cling to him. Each flick of his fingers sends shivers through you, igniting a fiery response that leaves you gasping for more.
“Knew you were such a good girl,” Ari praises, and your chest surges from his praise, his low, sultry voice invading your mind. Then, he unzips his jeans, the sound echoing in the booth like a promise yet to be fulfilled. He goes to sit on the black leather chair, pushing his pants and boxer briefs down around his ankles, revealing the enticing sight of his big, throbbing cock.
Curtis lifts you with ease and places you in Ari's lap. The transition is seamless, and you find yourself enveloped in the warmth of Ari's embrace. His hands instinctively find their way to your hips, grounding you as you settle in. With Curtis standing close, the dynamic continues to shift and evolve. You can feel the heat radiating from both men, each one eager to exact pleasure, and you hope the fire doesn’t consume you completely.
“Take off your bra,” Ari directs you.
Your eyes widen over his immediate demands, but, nervous as you still are, you don’t hesitate to do as he says. His hands on your hips hold you steady while you reach around to unclasp, and then you let it drop and fall away, biting your lip. Ari groans appreciatively, and grinds your core against his cock. You let out a shuddering breath at the friction, but it’s a singular sensation for only a moment, because then Ari dips his head and takes one of your breasts into his hot, wet mouth, and you gasp. Your fingers tangle immediately into his hair, looking for some kind of anchor.
Vaguely you hear the rustle of fabric from Curtis close behind you, and then you feel the heat of his now naked chest press against your back. He nips lightly at your neck, but then pulls back slightly. He rucks your loose skirt up over your hips, but then he rips the fabric of your panties right off, and you yelp in surprise.
Ari’s quick to muffle your sound by shifting his lips from your breast to your mouth, but his lips and tongue are no less eager, and the kiss is delicious and demanding, and you’re easily almost completely lost in him again. But Curtis has also discarded his gloves, and now his warm, calloused hands move slowly up your thighs before squeezing your hips, then start to knead the flesh of your round ass.
Curtis places a hand between your shoulders and pushes you forward, coaxing you against Ari’s chest. Ari takes the hint and leans back in the reclined chair, pulling you with him. This exposes your most intimate parts to Curtis, and he spreads you open, then presses his tongue flat against your cunt, eliciting a moan that, luckily, is swallowed up by Ari, who’s still eagerly kissing you, and now kneading your breasts in his large hands. Curtis continues to lick and lap at your cunt, but then his tongue begins to move up, and then suddenly he’s tonguing the tight rosebud of your ass, and you whimper and freeze.
Ari stops when you stop, pulling away to look at your face and assess the situation.
Curtis teases you with his tongue for another moment before pausing to pull away as well.
“Not a virgin,” he guesses, “but never had anyone play with your ass, have you, sugar?”
You close your eyes and try to take a steadying breath, your, “no,” soft and barely audible.
“Do you want him to stop?” Ari asks, and you can feel him studying your face.
Your mind is racing, but you remain frozen, unsure of what to say.
Ari brings one hand up to stroke your cheek. You lean into his touch and open your eyes again, but still don’t speak.
“Keep going,” he says to Curtis, and Curtis does.
While Curtis works your tightest hole with his tongue, still splaying your cheeks open, Ari reaches down to slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, and you eagerly rock your hips for more. Ari smiles, then brings you down with his other hand to kiss you again.
When you’re positively humping his hand, Ari pulls back from kissing you again with a darker laugh than you expected, but you’re so far gone between them, you think of stopping or slowing at all now.
“Open your eyes,” he commands.
But it doesn’t register.
He withdraws your fingers and slaps your pussy, making you gasp and groan, and your eyes whip open.
His dark blue irises are barely visible, pupils blown wide with lust, and it just cause another surge of electricity to run through you to your core.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?”
And then it’s his cock nudging at your entrance.
“Ari,” you groan.
“Since that first fucking minute I saw you in the lobby,” he says. He taps his cock aggressively against your swollen clit, and you keen for him. “Knew you were an innocent little thing, and I wanted to absolutely ruin you.”
You bite your lip, unable to look away from him, and think of that day, too.
“We both wanted to ruin you,” Curtis adds. And his finger takes over where his tongue had been, working gently but insistently into your ass.
You moan softly, but the two men hear it and exchange a glance over your shoulder. Ari looks pleased.
“I didn’t touch you that day, only teased you, enticed you. I knew you’d be back,” he growls. “Shame I didn’t have you on my chair again, but that wasn’t going to stop me.”
He pushes your lips back to his for another devouring kiss, but it’s brief.
“You’re desperate to be filled up, aren’t you?” he asks.
Closing your eyes again, you whimper and drop your forehead to his, but your answer is undeniable. “Yes.”
“You didn’t have to wait this long, but we won’t punish you for that. We’re patient men.”
“It only gave us more time to think of all the ways we’ll take you apart, sugar,” Curtis murmurs against your shoulder, then presses open-mouthed kisses against your hot skin there.
And then Ari is slipping his cock inside of your cunt, slow, insistent, and doesn’t stop until he’s into the hilt, pushing all the air out of your lungs. He’s so big it feels like he’s everywhere, and it takes you concentrating on making your lungs work again to suck in deep breaths, impossibly full of him.
But as full as you feel, it wasn’t everything. Because while Ari was slipping his cock inside you, Curtis had removed his fingers, and now his thick cock was splitting you open and finding room in a hole that had never been filled before, and it was unfamiliar pain, but already pressing into impossible pleasure, and really, you had to press your palms to the leather on either side of Ari’s head and focus on breathing and only breathing if you were going to survive this.
And then they both began to move.
In and out and in and out and inandout.
And you were sure you were going to black out or bliss out from how full you were and all the sensations surging through your body and –
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↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest
I make no apologies for this. Send me your medical bills as needed.
414 notes · View notes
novemberheart · 1 month
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{overview} as you become closer with your pack, nature takes control
{warnings} cursing, mentions of sex, cursing, mentions of violence, fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, lots of jumping around
Chapter 11 <- Chapter 12 -> Chapter 13
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Kyle had you sitting between his legs, your legs over one of his thighs. The two of you sat on the bathroom floor as he gently cleaned your leg and applied medicine. You were in your undergarments, not wanting your shirt to continue sticking to the scrapes on your side.
Kyle was being incredibly respectful. Well, he was too upset to even think about anything other than cleaning you up. The image of you covered in blood continually resurfacing in his brain.
You winced at the sting of medicine.
“I'm sorry, love.” he shushed you quickly.
“It’s okay,” you whispered back.
“You called John ‘alpha’,” Kyle spoke, trying to change the bleak subject. He knows you've called him alpha before- because he had to pay the consequences. You nodded your head, resting your head against his broad chest. You noticed Kyle doesn't wear scent blockers as much as the others. Maybe it was because his scent was already fairly neutral. You were grateful for it now. The smell of fresh linen soothing the throb in your skull.
“Are you okay with that?” you hummed, your eyes growing heavy. Kyle began cleaning up your arm. John wasn't technically your alpha yet. But he was Kyles. You could imagine how you would feel if someone you had just met two weeks ago was calling your alpha theirs.
“Course, love,” he responded quickly. “I quite enjoy it actually.” he hummed. Your eyes fluttered open, staring at the wall ahead.
“How so?” you pondered.
“Means you feel comfortable,” he explained. “Makes Cap’ pleased too.” That caused you to smile lightly.
His heartbeat was beginning to fall back to normal. The rhythmic thumping becoming less and less routine.
“Kyle?” you hummed softly.
“Yes?” he hummed back. His lips rested against the top of your head.
“Can I sleep with you tonight? In your bed I mean- or mine.” you felt him smile. You didn't want to be alone. You had the fleeting thought of asking John, but that was too intimidating. Plus Kyle was like a sedative on your nerves.
“Course, babygirl.” he agreed lowly. A shiver ran up your spine. He sighed, beginning to gather all the discarded cotton wads and bandage packages. “You’re all good, lovie. How about we break into alphas bedroom and steal some more clothes?” he wiggled a brow down at you.
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His hand wrapped around your wrist holding your hand still, so he could kiss your fingertips. You rolled your eyes, beginning to squirm in his grasp.
You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him flush against you. Kyle's head immediately found your neck, taking a deep inhale. The bitterness was gone leaving a mouth-watering aroma behind.
You two had curled up in his bed after dinner.
John and Simon had returned an hour before dinner. Kyle and Johnny quickly distracted you as they both made their way to their rooms. You heard the shower turn on immediately after. They hadn't said a word to you about it afterwards and you didn't pry. The looks on their faces were enough to let you know they had handled it. For dinner they let you pick whatever you wanted and you chose Chinese. All of you sat at the counter eating together like a true pack.
You didn't miss the way they looked at you. Their eyes lingered longer. You didn't quite have the energy to decipher each emotion. You felt as though you had proved yourself, though. Yes, you were a bit idiotic going off by yourself, but you held your own and were able to defend yourself. They had watched the footage, they knew.
It seemed to have hit John the hardest. Maybe it was alpha pride. The omega under his care got hurt and he couldn't prevent it. Or maybe he saw it as an attack against him. You hoped it was the easy answer; he didn't want to see you hurt.
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“Can I ask you something?” you whispered, your cheek pressed against his. He pulled back a bit, his darkened eyes staring into yours. “How did the relationship start between all of you?”
It had never been disclosed to you but you had your assumptions even before joining the pack. Only packs who could satisfy each other's needs refused to change.
“Me and ‘Tavish started it.” Kyle yawned, reburying his face in your neck. “Got in a fight actually- ended up working it out in a bit of an unorthodox way,” he explained, making you chuckle.
“What about John and Simon?”
“They’ve definitely been a thing for a long time- just have never been able to prove it.” he rolled over on his back, maneuvering you so you were lying against his chest. His fingers tracing small shapes against your thigh.
“When did all four of you decide to be together?”
“The night me and ‘Tavish got into it.” he rested his head against yours, his breath fanning your ear. You could feel his cheek twitch up into a smirk. “They watched.”
He chuckled at the sudden increase in your body temperature, your scent warming along with it. A wanting rumble vibrated in his chest but he made no move to act on it.
“Does it make your job harder?” you questioned suddenly. You knew what came with their job. The sacrifices they agreed to. What if something happened and they had to choose between each other or their objective? You curled further around Kyle.
“Lot more at stake,” he said quietly. “But, no. It doesn't.” you would have to be satisfied with the answer for now.
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“She called this home,” Johnny mumbled. Simon pulled his teeth away from the Scot's shoulder blades, flopping down on his back with a huff. He had been trying to warm Johnny up for the past fifteen minutes but the conversation always wandered back to you- and not in the way it usually does when they’re in bed.
“What else is she supposed to call it?” Simon questioned. He grabbed Johnnys' bicep and pulled him so his back was resting against his chest. Johnny growled, starting to pull himself away.
“Easy, mutt,” Simon growled, pulling him back. “Bloody heated over a situation that has been handled.”
“You weren't there.” Johnny finally snarled back. “By the time you got here, she wasn't dripping blood or crying or fucking terrified.”
It wasn't that Simon didn't care about you. He had spent the most time with you than anyone. In that time, he would be lying if he said you hadn't knocked down a few feet of the wall he had built up around himself. Johnny had a point. He probably would be much more bitter if he had been on the scene. He had watched it through the cameras, but it wasn't the same as being there when it was actually happening.
“You’re right.” Simon sighed, pressing a kiss against the mark on Johnny's shoulder. “We handled it though.”
“How’d you handle it?”
“The scratched-up one was easy to find. She got him good, really fucked up his eye. Slag had the bright idea to get treated at medical. Cap’ was so riled he nearly killed the bastard. Settled on broken legs though. The other one had a bit more brains- was hiding out. Was a fun game of cat and mouse, til it wasn't.” Despite the violence, Johnny’s body relaxed. That is what he needed to hear. That the bastards hadn't gotten away with anything. That they hadn't bloodied you up without consequences. “You did good, Johnny. Takin’ care of your omega." The praise warmed Johnny to the core.
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His time was 1:16 causing a few mouths to drop open.
“Hells bells, how'd you pull that off?” Johnny gawked, pressing the speaker button. Kyle shrugged behind the glass, opening the door to the ‘control room.’
“Don't know, mate. Just did.” he wasn't lying. Kyle had always been the fastest of the group but that was practically unheard of considering the duration of the test.
“Fucking beautiful,” Simon muttered, still reeling. You looked up from your mahjong puzzle not really getting what was so special. You had been unanimously voted into protective custody, meaning you got to follow the boys around all day. (just as long as you didn’t pay too close attention to what they were training for)
“I might know.” John said suddenly. His lips straightened in a line like he was trying to hold back a smile. Suddenly his eyes fell on you. You pushed your headphones back. “You two slept together last night, yeah?”
You flushed even though you knew that wasn't what he meant.
“I don't think I had any”-
“Makes sense,” Simon interjected. “Kyle beat his own record by nearly 30 seconds. That doesn't just happen.” he reasoned.
“Think you're right.” Kyle agreed. When he woke up that morning he had felt it. There was a warmth under his skin that made it easier to move- easier to think. He thought it was just because he had slept well. He should've known it was because of you.
“Well, I'll take credit I guess.” you sighed, tugging your headphones back on. Your eyes were brought away from your phone as Johnny took a knee before you.
“Hen, will you do me the greatest honor and sleep with me tonight?” his puppy dog eyes would be hard to refuse. You rolled your eyes but agreed. He obviously wasn't expecting it from the way his face lit up.
“Shite, I gotta wash my sheets.”
“Johnny!”
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It was no wonder he had to wear scent blockers all the time. His scent was addictive. Cinnamon and pine with a slight end note of orange. You had spent the last five minutes rolling around in his (clean) sheets.
“Enjoying yourself?” he snickered, hanging up his towel on his closet door. You looked over your shoulder, your half-lidded eyes meeting his. He groaned, quickly climbing into bed with you. “Better not get me in trouble, peaches.” he rasped. You wrapped around him before he was even flat against the mattress. He chuckled, his large hands grabbing your hips, moving you so you were curled up on top of him. His stubble scratched against your forehead as you buried your face in his neck. He purred, the sound catching you off guard. “Could get used to this.” he hummed, his own eyes growing heavy at the heated peachy scent in the air.
His hands wandered. Yet they couldn't be called inappropriate- and you certainly weren't opposed to it. His dull nails scratched against your back through the fabric of your shirt, before gliding down to your hips, his hands nearly gripping your bottom. They dove lower, grabbing the back of your thighs and giving them a squeeze before making his way back up, starting to play with your hair.
“Thank you for taking care of me yesterday,” you mumbled suddenly. You had practically melted into one at that point, but you still realized you hadn't thanked him.
“You can rely on me. You know that, aye?” he murmured back. He had proven that without a doubt. All of them had.
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Meanwhile, in his room, John’s body was on fire. He hadn't felt this way since- god he couldn't even remember.
“Think it's a cold?” Kyle questioned, removing his already sweated-through shirt.
“No.” John panted. The burning in his stomach only intensified, his mind was stuck on one thing and one thing only.
You.
“It's a fucking rut.”
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Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! See you in three days for chapter 13! 🧡
Dividers by @cafekitsune
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forever-rogue · 10 months
Note
came out of surgery and was just imagining pre-outbreak joel high on anesthesia, being all cute and flirty with the reader 🥺🥺 can I request that as a fic??? 👉👈
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AN | Oh but this would be one of the funniest situations!
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language; mention of surgery
Word Count | 2.4k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“I can't believe I'm doing this,” Joel huffed, looking at you almost as if to make sure you were really making him go through with it. Not that you'd forced him or anything but…still. He did not want to do this.
“It'll be fine you big baby,” you snorted, kissing his cheek before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the front door. He groaned slightly at the feeling, rubbing at his sore jaw, “and that's exactly why we're doing this. So you're not in constant pain!”
“I’m a grown ass man,” he was grumbling as he followed out to the car, “I’ve lived 35 years with these stupid teeth and I can continue to live with them.”
“It doesn’t matter how old you are - they’re bothering you and I’m tired of hearing you whine about them,” you opened the passenger door to his truck and motioned for him to get, “you’re going to listen to me, Joel Miller.”
“I do - I do not whine,” with that he got into the truck a big pout on his face as you closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
“It’ll be fine, love. It’ll be done in a few hours, then you can rest and eat ice cream and I’ll take care of you. In a few days to a week you’ll be good as new.”
“But - “
“But nothing,” you turned on the car, “I was in my late twenties when I got mine out a couple of years ago and it was just fine. I survived and you’ll survive.”
“Fine,” he sighed heavily as he stared at the road, “but I want lots of ice cream when it’s done.”
“Then we’ll get all the ice cream, Joel Miller,” you reached over and gave his knee a squeeze, “you big weenie.”
“Stop,” he groaned softly.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Mrs. Miller?”
“Oh, I’m…” you stopped yourself and didn’t bother to correct the dental assistant as you stood up and walked over to her, “how did it go?”
“Everything went just fine,” she explained and you relaxed and let out a small sigh of relief, “no complications at all. I think he’ll heal up just fine.”
“I have no doubt about that,” you watched as she walked back to collect Joel, leaving you unsure of what exactly to expect with him. You whispered to yourself, “I’m sure he’ll make a full recovery, dramatic of course but full.”
A few minutes later a very drowsy looking Joel walked out, looking around in confusion. It took him a few moments to realize that you were there but as soon as he did, his entire face, as much as you could see of it anyway, lit up, “wow. You’re so pretty!”
You had to work extremely hard not to burst into a bit of giggles at one, how pathetic he looked, and two how muffled and mumbly he sounded. You walked over to him and reached for his hand, tenderly taking it in yours, “hi, my love.”
He looked around for a moment, a confused look in his eyes as he looked around the room to see who you were possibly talking about. Then realization hit him, “you're talking to me?”
“Yes, of course,” you chewed on the inside of your cheek, “come on, let's get everything you need and then we can get out of here.”
“Where are we going?”
“Home-”
“Together? Do we live together?” He looked so genuinely bewildered that this time you couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped you.
“Yes,” you promised sweetly, “we live together.”
“Wow,” he whispered under his breath, watching as you went to the counter to get everything for him and get any special instructions. While you were listening intently, Joel was looking around at everything in awe, seemingly mesmerized by so many little things. 
Once you had written instructions and everything in hand, you turned back to him, only to find him standing there with a sleepy expression on his face. You reached for his hand, taking it gently in yours and started to head towards the door, “c’mon, love. We’re all set. You have to come back in about a week for your follow up, but otherwise you’re all set.”
“Why do I have to come back?” he trailed alongside you, words still muffled from the cotton in his mouth, “I don’t want to come back.”
“Honey, you just had surgery and they took your teeth out-”
“My teeth?” he looked horrified for a moment as he reached up and touched his face, which was still partially numb, “they stole my teeth!”
“Oh -  I mean, I guess you’re not wrong,” you took his hands gently and shook your head, “they were meant to take them, Joel. They were giving you problems.”
“What if I die without them?” He looked so upset - ridiculously adorable but upset. 
“You’re not going to die,” you insisted, “I promise you’re going to be fine. A little uncomfortable for a few days but then you’ll be fine.”
“And you’ll be there?”
“Of course I will,” you helped him into the truck again, “I’ll always be there.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really pretty?” you could feel his gaze practically burning into you as you walked through the aisles of the grocery store. You’d insisted that you should get him home first so he could rest but he insisted on coming with you so he could pick out exactly what ice cream he wanted and what pudding flavors he liked best. You knew better than to argue with him, even in his current state. 
You stopped with your hand halfway into the freezer and gave him a curious expression, “umm, well…pretty sure I’ve heard that a few times before.”
“Well, you should…because it’s true,” he offered you a small, lopsided little smile. 
“Oh? I’ll keep that in mind,” you turned back to the taste at hand, shaking your head lightly to yourself. 
Once the cart was loaded up with everything needed for the next few days and you’d snagged the prescription for his antibiotics and pain medication, you head towards the checkout.
Joel appeared to be mostly alright, except for the way he stared at everything and made silly little comments about everything and anything. After you placed everything onto the conveyor belt, you turned around to make sure everything was alright. He waved at you sheepishly before he seemed to get ahead of himself, “do you have a boyfriend?”
Alright…that caught you by surprise. You’d thought he had managed to put the pieces together by now but apparently whatever they had used on him at the dentist’s office was strong. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, “umm…yeah. I do actually…have a boyfriend.”
“Oh,” the look on his face was nothing short of crestfallen, “t-that’s good. I guess.”
You hummed under your breath as you greeted the checker and paid for everything. You grabbed the bags and motioned for him to follow you as you walked back out to the truck, “c’mon Joel! Don’t need you slowing me down!”
“Yeah…coming,” he mumbled as he helped you to load the backs into the backseat of the truck. He got in as soon as you were done, hopping into the passenger seat and crossing his arms over his broad chest, “does he treat you good? Your boyfriend?”
“He does,” you promised, absolutely meaning it. Joel was the best friend and partner you’d ever had, “he’s amazing. And I love him a lot.”
“Cool,” and he seemed like he thought it was anything but cool, “cool.”
“Mhmm…”
“I think maybe we should go on a date,” he mumbled, leaning his head against the cool glass of the window, “we could be good together. I can treat you right.”
“I’m sure you could,” you chuckled as you turned onto your street, “as a matter of fact, I know you could.”
“Then…I…why-”
“Joel Miller, I don’t know if I should be offended or amused that you don’t remember,” you pretended to scoff heavily as you pulled into the driveway and parked the truck, “we’re dating, silly man. You’re the boyfriend. My boyfriend.”
“No way,” his pretty brown eyes lit up with excitement as he pointed in between the two of you, “you’re dating me?”
“I sure am and vice versa,” you grinned happily as you slid out of the driver’s side and started to grab the groceries to bring them inside. He scrambled to keep up with you, eyes practically glued to you, “come on, love. I know you’re staring at my ass, but you can do that any other time. Now it’s time for you to get some rest.”
“Yes ma’am,” he came up and grabbed half the bags from you and headed in as soon as you had the door unlocked. You made quick work of putting everything away and ushering him upstairs to the bedroom. 
For a small surprise you’d gotten him some comfy new pajamas to wear in his recovery. He claimed that he would be just fine but you knew that he was going to be a big baby. Might as well make it so he would be a comfortable big baby.
“Here you go,” you looked through the top drawer of the dresser and handed him the clean pajamas. He made a small sound of happiness, “go get changed and then into bed for you. You need to rest and need to do less talking.”
“But nothing,” you nudged him towards the bed with your hip, “besides, I guarantee that as soon as you’re in bed and comfortable the tiredness is going to set in and get you. You didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“But-”
“That’s not gonna happen,” he stripped down and put on the comfy clothes, groaning as he laid down in the soft, clean sheets. You offered him a knowing look as he made himself comfortable. He badly stifled a yawn as you raised an eyebrow, “fine, maybe you’re right.”
“I’ll grab a book and some movies in case you can’t or don’t want to sleep after a while,” you looked him over and made sure everything was in check, “and I’ll grab some water and pain meds.”
“You’re the best,” he was already getting sleepy, partly wishing you’d just get in with him, “‘m lucky you decided to date me. I wanna take you on a date when I feel better.”
“Don’t worry I’m counting on that,” you paused in the doorway for a moment, “I’m lucky to have you too, Joel. Get some rest okay? I’ll just be downstairs.”
“Can I have ice cream soon?” 
“Yeah baby,” you grinned softly, “you can have all the ice cream you want later.”
“And you?”
“And me.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got home and Joel settled into bed, you were worn out. You made yourself a snack and sat down on the couch to watch some mindless television. There was ice cream stock piled on the freezer for when he woke up and lots of puddings and broths and yogurts for the next few days ahead. Sarah was still at a friend’s house for the night but you knew that she’d love getting to mess with Joel while he was out of commission. 
After a few episodes of the show you’d thrown on, you heard the creak of the stairs. You looked up and found Joel looking at you with a pathetic little expression on his face. You smiled softly in return before motioning for him to come over and join you. 
“How’re you feeling, baby?” you lifted the warm blanket and you were under and he snuggled up to you, wasting no time in getting as comfortable as possible.
“‘m okay,” he huffed as you reached up and brushed his hair out of his face, “my mouth feels weird and gross and it hurts a little. Otherwise right as rain.”
“You can use that mouthwash they gave after you eat a little something and get some pain medication. You’ll be able to brush your teeth in a day or two,” with the lightest of touches, you ghosted your fingers along his jaw. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, “you’re already doing good, Joel. Better than earlier anyway.”
“Oh no,” he groaned softly as you laughed, “how stupid was I acting? I feel like it was a dream, I don’t remember a lot, just bits.”
“Well, you didn’t remember that we were together, then you were shocked that I was living with you. You proceeded to flirt - albeit very badly - with me and tried to get me to agree to go on a date with you. Seemed like you’d do anything for that. When I reminded you that we’re actually already dating - that kind of together - you almost lost it. So yeah, you were something else.”
“Fuck me,” he groaned as he tried to hide his face from you. His cheeks were tinged a bright pink as you giggled, “well that’s embarrassing. Let’s never talk about this again.”
“Nice try,” you shook your head, “I am so telling Sarah when she gets home tomorrow. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Joel Miller.”
“Baby-”
“Don’t baby me, baby,” you placed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, “You had your fun and now I get to have mine.”
“Fine,” he pouted, already knowing that neither of his girls were ever going to let him forget this, “fine.”
“You ready for some ice cream?” your voice was sticky sweet as you looked him over. He looked somewhere between miserable and thankful and totally in love as you made your way over to the kitchen, “there’s plenty in the freezer!”
“...yes please.”
1K notes · View notes
xmalfoyweasleyx · 3 months
Text
Jealousy, jealousy - Azriel x reader
Summary: The whole inner circle is tired of you and Azriel flirting with each other, without acting on it. So Rhys decided to help his sister and Azriel with that, by planning a special birthday party for her. Based on this request.
Warnings: Smut! 18+! Az is jealous (but it's fluff)
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Azriel couldn’t stop watching you. Again.
You were sitting on the couch in front of him at the townhouse, silently watching your brother, Rhys, talk. Azriel loved watching you, your shy, yet clever eyes were always so observant. On top of that, you looked beautiful tonight. You wore a dress that looked like it was made of starlight and your pretty lips were painted in a color that made-
“You’re daydreaming again, Az,” Rhys interrupted his thoughts, making Az’s eyes quickly avert his gaze from y/n, to her brother sitting next to her.
“Probably dreaming about his undying love for Truth-Teller,” y/n smiled. The shy, yet flirty smile that always made Az go week in the knees.
Before he could even try to suppress it, a wave of warmth filled Az’s cheeks, exposing his adoration. You were the only person who could make him blush like that. It has been this way since the first day he’d met you, when you were teenagers, which is already centuries ago. Rhys only introduced his sister years after he’d met Azriel and Cassian. She was still young, but so was he. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with her. The way she was hiding behind her brother, shy, yet curious, peeking behind his shoulder at the two Illyrians standing in front of her. Suddenly a smile was on her curious face, and the first thing you’d said was: “Are those shadows yours? They’re very beautiful.”
Since that moment, Az was a goner. He never acted on it though. Too scared, too insecure and too worried he would ruin your friendship. It had been the same for years. The flirting, the teasing. But never more than that. 
Until a few months ago. When the bond snapped.
In that moment, Azriel couldn’t be any happier. It all made sense now. But then he realized, it didn’t snap for you. You didn’t seem to know. And it happened all over again, he was scared. What if you didn’t want him as your mate? What if it would freak you out? And what if Rhys would hate him for it?
“You’re still staring at me, Azzie” he heard y/n’s soft voice, yet again interrupting his thoughts. He looked confused for a moment, as if finally realizing where he was. “Oh yes, I'm sorry, you do look beautiful tonight y/n, you can’t blame me,” he smiled nonchalantly. It was always like this, the flirting and the compliments. It was normal.
“You look great too Az,” you returned the smile. Another wave of warmth heated his face. He quickly tried to hide the flushed cheeks, when fortunately, Cassian guided the attention to him. “So, what are we going to do for your birthday tomorrow y/n?” Cas asked. 
“Oh, I don’t know, I guess we could go out or something? Nothing special, just like we always do,” you answered.
Rhys clicked his tongue at that. “Nothing special? My dear sister, I think you don’t know me that well then. We have the perfect surprise for you.” That was something new. “Do we?” Az asked confused. “Well, now I’m curious,” Feyre smiled.
What Az didn’t know is that the whole inner circle knew about his “secret” feelings for you, only Az and y/n were oblivious. Honestly, his friends didn’t know how the observant shadowsinger didn’t notice how obvious it was. He always gets shy and smiled with y/n. It was a mystery how he didn’t realize the fact he had a lovesick look all over his face when he’s watching her. So Rhys, the good brother he is, decided to come up with a plan. The easy strategies didn’t work, so he decided to use the one thing Az couldn’t hide, jealousy.
*******
When it was finally the evening of your birthday, it turned out Rhys’ surprise, indeed, was special. Your brother had decided to take you all to some dance show’ but it wasn’t some normal dance show, you realized when you saw the poster hanging on the door of the club. It were only male dancers. Male dancers with not so many clothes, it seemed. “Now I’m really curious brother” you sighed. “You’ll love it.”
Your brother was right, it was so much fun. You ate and drank with the inner circle, watching the show from your shared table. They even got you a cake with fireworks. But that wasn’t the only surprise.
You were all cheering when one of the dancers came to you. He was muscled and had beautiful, curly blonde hair. Before you could process what was happening, he grabbed your hand and pulled you on the stage with him. The male put you on a chair in the middle of the stage and started moving around you, your face flushed immediately.
He smirked at you, showing off his impressive moves. You couldn’t help but smile at him. It was fun to let go for a moment and enjoy the silliness of it all. The whole inner circle was cheering for you.
Az on the other hand, didn’t like it that much. He balled his hands into fists, when he saw the way the male grabbed your hand and guided you to the stage. He gritted his teeth, the way you blushed, the way he was moving around you and even touched you… And then you smiled at that male.
Az had to muster every ounce of self-control. He did all he could to not just get up on that stage, and bring you back to their table. He wanted to be the one to touch you like that. He wanted to be the one to make you smile. 
Even after the show was over and you were brought back to your original spot, Az couldn’t shake off the jealous feeling. His whole body was still tense and he had a dark look on his face.
“Something the matter, Azriel?” Rhys smirked teasingly, grabbing his friend's shoulder, knowing damn well why he was acting like this. “No.” Azriel answered shortly, taking another big sip from his drink.
******
Y/n was so tired when she arrived at her bedroom. She sat on her bed, taking her shoes off with a relieved sigh, ready to go to sleep. But suddenly she heard someone knock on the door. It was Azriel.
“Hey Az, what are you doing here?” 
“Just wanted to say goodnight after such a… special… birthday evening,” he grinned.
“Yeah it was… something,” you giggle. You sat next to each other on the bed in silence for a moment.
“Did you think he was hot?” Az blurted out. “Who?” you asked confused. “That guy, the one who danced for you,” he grumbled. “Oh, I-I don’t know, he was fine,” you faltered. 
Az didn’t answer. “Are you okay Azzie? You seem tense.” You rubbed his shoulder gently, trying to comfort him.
“I didn’t like it” he stated. Y/n was confused. “W-were you… were you jealous?” Az only sighed, looking down.
“It was just, he was… he shouldn’t touch you like that” he tried to explain without making his jealousy too obvious. You were disappointed for a moment, he probably just didn’t like it because he saw you as his little sister, you thought. Because he wanted to protect you. “I’m sorry Az,” you silently said. “No, no, don’t apologize y/n, it’s my fault, I’m acting stupid.”
“I get that you feel like this, you see me as a... sister, you feel protective over me or something, I get it Az,” you sighed. Azriel looked up, his hazel eyes carefully watching you. He frowned, “Do you really think that’s how I feel about you?” It’s silent for a moment. “I was jealous y/n, very jealous” he finally confessed.
“Y-you were?” you stroked his cheek softly, fingertips tracing the freckles down his neck. Azriel nodded, you looked in each others eyes for a long moment. His pupils dilated, a hungry look on his face. Then the room suddenly filled with the smell of your arousal. “You want to… you want to show me what you look like without that shirt then?” you hesitated. “Yeah? You want that?” he smirked. “Yes” you answered breathlessly. 
Az slowly took his shirt off, your eyes tracing the lines of his muscles hungrily. “Much better than that male,” you sighed. “C’mere” he groaned, surprising you by grabbing your hips and lifting your body on top of him in one move. You were straddling him now, arms tightly wrapped around his neck.
And then his lips were on yours, hungrily moving against each other. He grabbed your ass, squeezing it gently. A gasp left your mouth, “Azzie, Az please.” You started moving against him, pressed so close to each other, yet it wasn’t enough. 
“What do you want, baby?” he whispered against your lips. “I want you.”
“And what exactly do you want from me? Tell me y/n,” he groaned.
“Your cock, I want to feel you in me, Azriel, please” you begged.
“So pretty when you beg like that, darling. But not so fast.” He wrapped his arms tightly around your back and turned you around. You’re back now against the bed, with Azriel’s body hovering above you. His wings were spread wide and his shadows were moving around you. Silently asking their master for permission to touch you too.
They helped him with getting you out of your birthday dress, the soft tendrils caressed your skin so deliciously. The shadows danced around your whole body, touching you almost everywhere. You felt a familiar heat growing in lower stomach.
The male above you spread your legs wider, placing soft kisses closer and closer to where you wanted him most.
You grabbed his dark locks in your hand, eagerly trying to guide him to your pussy. “Patience, baby, patience,” he calmly said.
His hands traveled up your body, gently grabbing your breasts, his palm stroking your nipple. “So pretty for me,” he cooed. 
And then he finally pressed his soft lips against your pussy, a load moan left your mouth. He started to lick like a starved male. His lips softly wrapping around your clit, sucking messily. He then wrapped your legs around his head, locking in his face in between them. He groaned into your cunt, “Azzie, yes, feels so good”.
Then you noticed that he was grinding against the mattress, trying to find some relief too. He was already so turned on, just from the taste of your pussy. “I want you to feel good too,” you whined. Azriel replaced his tongue with his fingers, the scarred skin softly rubbing your clit, “Oh I already feel amazing, baby, don't worry.”
You gasped when you felt his finger enter your pussy, stroking the soft walls. Your breathing grew louder. “Yeah, you like that?” He chuckled. 
It felt amazing, but you wanted him in you, you wanted him pussy drunk, feral for you. So you could only do one thing, touch his wings. 
You gently stroked the less sensitive part on the outside of his wing, testing the waters. He groaned, “Oh baby, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
You decided to stroke a more sensitive part, making him grab your thighs harshly. Az sat up. “Come here, you dirty little girl,” he said huskily. “Do you want me to fuck you y/n? Is that what you want, huh?”
“Yes, please, yes” you whined.
“How could I deny that pretty face? My beautiful little girl,” he cooed, leaning in closer to press his lips against yours again. You helped him pull his pants down, his impressive length sprang free. You gulped. He was long.
"Don’t worry, if you want to stop we’ll stop” he murmured into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin gently. “No, no! I can handle it,” you claimed, your hand wrapping around him, eager to feel the soft skin in your hands. He groaned into your ear, “Shit, you have no idea how turned on I am right now.” You giggled, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, already soaking wet.
“Are you sure?” he whispered. “Yes, I’m sure Az, want to feel you” 
He slowly entered you, sucking your nipples as a distraction for the pain. But it was a good kind of pain, you wanted more. So you grabbed his ass, trying to push him deeper into you. "Don't... don't be scared, it feels good," you said in between heavy breaths.
“Needy little girl” he grinned. His rhythm picked up and his thrusts started to get harder. His hips slamming against yours
“You feel so good, this pussy is mine isn’t it? Only mine” he whimpered into your ear. “Yes, Az, my pussy is yours. I'm yours,” you moaned. Az started to fuck you harder, “Say it again” he demanded.
 “I’m yours, only yours Azriel” 
“That’s right, good girl,” he moaned, putting one of your legs over his shoulder. The new angle made you gasp. Your places your hands against his chest, your nails softly stroking down his abs.
Azriel was mesmerized, his eyes fixated on your swollen lips, the lips he couldn't believe he just kissed, and the way your tits bounced because of the force of his thrusts.
He looked so handsome like this. His messy hair falling over his face, his eyes half-lidded, the blush on his cheeks and the heavy breaths that left his mouth.
“I’m already so close Azzie,” you whined. "Already?” He teased. You nodded. “I want you to come with me,” you pleaded, one of your hands lifting up again to stroke the inside of his wing. Az moaned at the feeling, the arm that held him up collapsed beneath him, his body softly falling against yours.
His chest was now pressed against you, the position was so intimate. His thrusts started to get sloppy. “Baby, baby…” he whined softly in your ear. Both drunk on the feeling of each other.
His fingers circled your clit, making you moan his name like a prayer, over and over. The familiar feeling coiled in your lower belly, finally snapping when he nibbled on your earlobe. High-pitched moans filled the room, your orgasm washing over you like a big wave. Azriel moaned with you, his brows knitted together.
“Where do you want me? On your tits? On your pussy? In your pretty mouth?”
“In me, I want you in me Az, please,” you whined, craving to feel more of him, to be claimed by him. You wanted to be his the way no one ever was before. Az groaned in answer, heavy breaths tumbling out of his mouth. You felt him release inside your pussy, moaning your name against your cheek, riding out his high slowly. 
Azriel fell next to you with a loud sigh. His arms tightly wrapped around you. He placed a soft kiss against your neck and stroked your inner arm. “You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming about this.” he confessed. “Me too” you answered. You should probably talk about this, but for now, you just wanted to sleep. Comfortably in Azriel’s warm arms.
********
The next morning, y/n was watching Azriel sleep next to her. Her hand stroked his naked chest while her other hand played with his soft dark hair. He looked like an angel, laying there, so peaceful. 
And suddenly, she felt a tug in her chest. A thread, a feeling like no other. Y/n gasped, making Az’s eyes open slowly. “Good morning” he whispered with a smile. Y/n only stared at him.
She couldn’t believe it. He was her mate. Her mate.
“Y-you’re my mate” she whispered. Az sat up immediately, grabbing her cheek gently. “It snapped? It finally snapped for you too?” He whispered, his eyes getting teary. “You knew?” 
“I’ve known for a few months now, but before last night, I didn’t think you’d want me” he murmured. “Oh Az, of course I want you, I’ve loved you since we were teenagers and met in Windhaven, I’ve loved you since I noticed the beautiful, smart and compassionate male hidden behind those shadows,” you smiled. “I love you” he smiled, kissing you softly.
An hour later you went downstairs together. The rest of the Inner Circle was already in the living room, doing each their own thing.
Rhys’ eyes immediately went to your intertwined hands, an unreadable look on his face. “Rhys, before you say something, I want you to know I would never hurt your sister and I am-“ Az quickly tried to explain. But Rhys interrupted him with a voluminous laugh.
“Finally!” He smiled, getting up to face you both. “I’ve been trying to get you together for the last year, but you both were so oblivious” he teasingly rolled his eyes and opened his arms, hugging you both. “Yeah honestly Az, it was about damn time” Cassian smirked.
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shrenvents · 4 months
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Guard Dog II
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Part one
Warning: minors dni, fluff, smut, fingering, penetration, no protection, language
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x you
Summary: You and Daryl have started seeing each other, but not much has changed between you two. Yet, all you can think about is how much you need it to —need him to touch you, but he hasn’t made a move. Thus, you take charge.
Word count: 1.6k
Though it hasn't been said, flat out, you and Daryl are dating. And although nothing about your dynamic has altered, you’re still fairly certain, you're dating now.
But, the routine is just the same. You go somewhere, Daryl follows. However, nowadays you talk regularly, and he's visibly more comfortable. The others even started to notice your relationship and the changes in Daryl as well. One of which is, according to Eugene, is he seems happier, lighter, like a weight has lifted from his shoulders.
So, how is it that you feel something missing? You guessed a relationship with Daryl would be nothing less than this. But deep down, you expected him to at least touch you. And all you really wanted, was a kiss.
Sometimes, when he's close enough, you feel his warmth radiate over your very being. Sometimes, you sense his touch from when he grabbed your wrist, and held you in his arms weeks ago.
It left you craving more. Perhaps it did for him too...
Various times you swore his hand would hover over your skin, debating whether to reach out to you or not. Other times, he follows you to your house, but never steps foot inside, not since that day. He continuously stops short at your front deck, giving you a prolonged nod for a goodbye.
You’re shy in many ways, as is he, so if things were to change, you figure you have to be the one to take the reins. After all, he did admit to "wanting" you, so what did you have to lose?
Sighing, you open your door, squinting to welcome the blazing sun.
As of late, your mornings consist of this smouldering summer shine, and a mouthwatering, sleeveless Daryl Dixon, leaning against the pillar upholding your porch, waiting for you to wake.
"Morning!" You greet cheerfully. Daryl looks at you, and his scowl instantly softens. "I'm thinking we should do something today, together," you boast, trudging off the porch. "You know, switch up our usual routine somehow." Pausing thoughtfully, you notice how patiently Daryl observes you, waiting for your word, without any interruptions. It almost shocks you how docile he truly is, beneath that dim, tough exterior.
Your eyes explore Alexandria's landscape, catching areas with dull greenery. Your mouth opens in 'ah!'
Daryl appears disquiet and you holler, "Gardening!"
"No," he contradicts, quickly shutting down your idea. You huff, hindering a small smile. "Oh please, it would be fun!" You persuade, "This place needs more character, it's too-" desperately searching for a word, you make Daryl smirk a bit. "Colourless right now," you proclaim.
"And adding some flowers, will make this place look less like a 'dump'?" He mocks plainly.
"I don't think it's a 'dump,' it just needs some," once more, you seek the appropriate word, and Daryl expels a breathy chuckle. "Sprucing," you finish, and he nods with a tiny shake in disbelief. "Let's go!" You shout, heading to a plain field of grass.
"Yes ma'am," Daryl grumbles behind you, and you giggle.
...
The both of you spend hours outside, digging up weeds, replanting flowers, and spreading plant seeds across the lot. The whole ordeal left you both filthy, decorated in dirt. Though it's nothing new for Daryl, you feel pretty disgusting, not to mention 'hideous.'
Engrossed in your obsessive thoughts, you miss the way Daryl longingly watches you. That’s until you feel a plant stem, tuck your hair behind your ear. You spy Daryl’s calloused fingers, gently placing a pink flower there. His pinkie lightly coasts down your locks, to your shoulder.
You peer into his eyes, struck by his tenderness. His dilated pupils hold so much depth, that you get lost in them. So absentmindedly, you shift closer to Daryl.
His eyes roam your face, down to your lips, focusing on them.
A short breath escapes you, heart dropping, and he stands up. Now on his feet, Daryl brushes the grime on his hands in a clap, then lends one out to you. “You’re covered in dirt,” his throat bobs, “Let’s call it a day,” he heaves you upright, “take a shower.” You nod in agreement, kind of discombobulated.
Hand in hand, you silently walk to your house. Once you get there, he retracts his palm from yours and scratches his crown awkwardly. “You’re not coming?” You mumble shyly, and his wide eyes shoot to yours.
You fight to remain calm, staring at him. He licks his lips, once again, looking at your parted ones. “Separate showers, or...?” He asks airily.
“Whatever you want,” replying in a whisper, you slowly back up your steps, intently watching him. He refuses to break eye contact as he follows you inside.
When the door clicks shut, the only audible sound is his breathing, which is more like panting.
“You sure about…?” He trails off, delicately admiring your face. When you faintly mouth a 'yes,' his eyes train to your figure. You leisurely stride towards him.
“You’re so,” before he finishes, you peck his lips. He jerks his jaw moderately, and his gaze struggles to decide, whether to look at your eyes, or your body.
“Touch me,” you practically beg, nudging his abdomen with your knuckles. His sharp breath fans your face, and his expression distorts right before he instinctively, crashes his mouth into yours. Tongues mingling together, he grunts quietly, and you hum a whine in return.
Bodies pressing hard against each other, his hands tangle into your tresses, cupping your head. He rolls his hips rather harshly and you whine louder.
Breaking away with his name on your tongue, you clutch his hand and haul him upstairs.
Reaching the top of the staircase, he hugs you from behind and buries his face into your neck, breathing in like you're his lifeline.
“Daryl,” you sigh then gasp when he suddenly lifts you up. Your toes drag on the floorboards while he sucks on your nape. “Bathroom,” he rasps.
“To your left,” you huff in response, pushing your backside atop his crotch. Daryl just about growls, hastily carrying you into the bathroom.
Putting you down nicely, he forcibly tugs the shower curtain to the side. You spin to look at him and see him surveying you, staring down at your frame like he's in heat. You bite your lip, raising a hand to push away the black hair blocking his eyes.
“Can I?” He asks politely, gesturing to your clothes.
“Yes,” you nearly moan.
Together, you remove each other’s garments, one by one, piece by piece. Eyes equally wandering, to every newly revealed section of flesh. Daryl adorns your naked body and his lip tilts. You lean towards him to turn the shower knob.
The shower head roars, and Daryl tenses when the tips of your breasts graze his chest. “God,” he groans then takes your dome in his hands again, yanking your mouth upwards.
Your fronts fix together, and he palms your ass, reddening the skin there. His hard-on rubs your cunt, and he ambles you both under the flowing stream of water.
“Fuck,” you moan wildly when your spine hits the cool wall.
“Ya feel amazing,” he resounds into your ear, kissing it with a swipe of his tongue. You grind onto him. “Like that baby, again,” he instructs hoarsely, almost pained.
Moving in sync with each other, his cock continuously moves over your clit. You whine his name over and over, scratching your nails across his biceps. You moan out appraisals and smooch a trail from his chin to chest.
His hushed tone chants your name, trying to get your attention. But, when he gets tired of you ignoring him, his digits abruptly slip into you. You instantly cry out, then move in rhythm with his fingers, riding them. He begins to elicit an orgasm, so you pull away from his aggressive kiss. “Wait, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.
“Good,” he groans with a smirk, trying to capture your mouth again.
“No, no, I wanna cum with you,” you plea, whispering, "on you," barely coherent. His fingers immediately slow and withdraw, at once, replaced by his girthy cock.
You scream a yelp and Daryl releases a lengthy, unreserved, animalistic groan. “So, tight,” his dark voice grates your ears. He cups your breast, playing with its nipple, and you sob while he mutters how badly he needs this.
After a moment of adjusting, Daryl starts thrusting. "Harder!" You express, and his hips lunge into you, untamed and vigorous.
Though his bottom half ruthlessly takes you, his hands and mouth are kind and attentive. His palms glide over your torso, holding you securely, and he kisses your features.
“Daryl, I love it,” you exclaim, then repeat yourself.
“Y-yeah?” He stammers, pinning his forehead to the side of your skull, and you grip his muscular biceps. “Yes, you’re so good.”
He growls your name, pumping even faster, evidently getting closer to his climax.
His hands move to squeeze and spread your ass, and ever-so-slightly, his finger sweeps across your unfilled hole, circling it. You squeal and huddle into him, and he murmurs something so quietly, that you can hardly hear it.
“What?” You gasp, craning your neck back.
“-fucking love you,” Daryl moans roughly, hoisting up your leg by its thigh. “Shit.” Pushing into you one last time, he pulls out to cum on your stomach.
Daryl's confession strikes such a cord, that you also cum when he removes himself.
Blanking, you aimlessly watch him stroke himself, and he grits his teeth at the sight of you flushed and wet.
Eventually, his meaty arms embrace your trembling form, snaking around your curves firmly. And after a short while, you hug him too, burying your face in his sternum.
“Can you, say that again?” You ask meekly, and as if he can hear your smile, he chuckles. “Later,” he pauses to kiss your scalp, “Lemme catch my breath first baby.”
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princejiu · 4 months
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𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱
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𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter
𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Alessia encounters an unwanted attention and tries her best to hide it from you, knowing that you would absolutely do anything to keep her safe.
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, assault, violence, ptsd, cursing, maybe attempt of murder
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | ik its been two months almost thre-anyways. this is 9 thousand something words and it took a lot of brain capacity.
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The night was young, streetlights lit the city as rowdy adults filled London with joyous laughter. It was like any other Saturday night to most but not to Alessia.
She was leaving you home alone to attend Kyra's birthday party along with the other gunners. Usually, you'd be by her side through it all, but you were still healing from your previous fight.
Patched-up cuts and bruises here and there. None that you deemed bed-rest worthy, yet remained home to steer clear of the scolding you would get from your coaches.
So, here you were sitting with a large bucket of popcorn and the latest season of Love Island. It took a great deal to convince Alessia to leave your side for the night, refusing to go firsthand as the urge to smother you with love and care surged as time went on.
After countless reassurances and kisses, Alessia reluctantly switched out joggers for jeans and a pullover for a top. She stood in front of you, twirling to give you the 360. Deep down, you started to regret inducing her to go. While Alessia had a full blowout, you lounged on the loveseat with shorts and a sports bra. "And to think you didn't want to leave."
Alessia grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it, pointing a non-threatening finger at you. "Do not start teasing me. You were the one who was so adamant about me going. It's your fault I'm in this vest instead of my jumper."
"Love, if it makes you feel any better. I prefer you in nothing at all."
Alessia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance. You grinned, beckoning her over, even when you managed to annoy her Alessia could never resist you. She trudged to you, pursing her lip when you patted your lap.
You grunted as she plopped down on you, the unexpected force taking you by surprise. It was Alessia's turn to grin, hooking her arms around your neck, yours to her hips. "I take it you didn't like my joke."
You were unfazed by Alessia's evil eye, more than used to it. "You do not get to make jokes like that. You're forcing me to go to a party I don't want to go to and you're watching Love Island without me. You're being mean." You snorted, and with a click, the game show switched to one of your old fights.
Alessia turned her head away, your fights always made her a bit queasy hence why she never watched them. "Yes, how can I be so cruel to my lovely girlfriend? I should be punished for my crimes." Alessia slapped your chest, not a fan of your mockery.
"Quit the sarcasm. Save that for someone else other than the love of your life."
You pecked her cheek, a quick apology. "You're right. The love of my life only deserves respect and devotion." She nodded her head in agreement, her pride growing as she had the big bad fighter everyone knew lay down the treatment she deserves.
"That is correct but don't think this sucking up made me forget what you've done to me."
You groaned, throwing your head back. "Love, you haven't left my side since my fight, normally I wouldn't mind but you've been cooped up all week. And it's Kyra's birthday, imagine the headaches she'll give you for missing it."
Alessia could already see it, Kyra having a kick at her for not showing up. The Australian was known for her little sister energy that never ran out, much to the unlikes of her teammates. Alessia recalled Kyra's recent mischievous act.
A week ago, Steph forgot to grab Kyra's favorite candy when making a store run and a childlike Kyra took it to offense. She hadn't stopped yapping the entire day, Steph departed training with ringing ears that lasted the next day.
Alessia didn't want to have a similar outcome.
"That rascal hid my boots last time because I refused to prank Katie. A nuisance she is." You smiled, Alessia's annoyance that wasn't targeted towards you was amusing to watch. You slipped a hand under her top, rubbing the warm bare skin a contrast to your cold hands.
"So, what I'm hearing is that I'm right."
Alessia gave you no acknowledgment, gasping when she felt your thumb dip below her waistline. You leaned in for a kiss, though you were met with a flat palm to the face. You pulled back, scrunching your nose. Alessia smiled widely, "No messing up my lip gloss, darling."
For the very first, you scowled at Alessia's bright pink lips. The desire to botch Alessia's perfectly applied lipstick grew by the second. You exhaled sharply, leaning back to put some distance between you and her restricted lips. "That's unfair. You look ravishing and you're saying I can't kiss you? Must you tease me?"
Alessia giggled under her breath; she kissed your neck, unapologetic about her teasing. "Oh, my big baby. Have the consequences of your actions come to play?" You frowned at Alessia's mocking pout, the way she spoke as if she were speaking to a child stirred something within you.
You roughly tugged her closer, inches away from her lips. You removed one hand from her hips, gripping her jaw in a tight-loose hold. Your thumb swiped her bottom lip to the corner. Her once-perfect gloss now smudged and not in the way she would have liked.
You brought your thumb to your lips, putting on a little show, humming at the taste of strawberries on your tongue.
Alessia froze, she didn't expect you to turn the tables on her so fast. You grabbed Alessia's phone out of her back pocket, hearing a ping. You opened her phone, purposely ignoring her. "Vic's here. You should get going if you don't want to be late."
Alessia remained unmoved, stuck in a trance you led her into. You chuckled, no emotion behind it, standing up causing Alessia no choice but to do so as well. You took her chin in between your two fingers, "A little quiet, aren't we? What's the matter, Alessia? Have the consequences of your actions come to play?"
Alessia gulped at the bite in your tone, she shouldn't have baited you. It always ended with her pinned to the bed, a position she loved yet a lesson she never intend to learn. Alessia's phone pinged once again, she paid it no mind too focus on your little stare-down. "Better get going before Vic comes up and knocks down our door."
Alessia hesitantly took her phone, squinting as if she was trying to figure out your plan. "Just like that?" You raised a brow, ignoring the pinch of pain as your stitches stretched.
"I can do worse than a smeared gloss, you of all people should know that. I suggest you leave now before you don't at all." Alessia's finger hovered over her lips, she could feel the slight stickiness at the corners of her lips. You hadn't done much to taint them, but Alessia wished you did.
Your eyes began to soften at Alessia's timid stature, tipping her head up with a finger. Wiping away the small mess you created. "Have fun tonight, okay? I love you."
A smile grew on Alessia, puckering her lips for a kiss. "I thought you didn't want to ruin your makeup" She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, pulling you down to finally bring you into a kiss you both craved.
Alessia was the first to separate, "I love you too. Don't wait up." She gave you one last peck, grabbing her purse on her way out. Swaying her hips side to side, mindful of your wandering eyes.
"Not having the time of your life are you, Less?"
Lia winced as Alessia's head snapped to her, "I am. Why do you ask?" Lia didn't believe the young girl and it showed, Alessia stuck herself at their rented-out booth, doing nothing else other than sipping on her club soda.
"You haven't moved since we got here. What? Are you not used to having your little bloodhound with you?"
That got a laugh out of Alessia, Lia grinned cheekily. You were always a topic used to tease Alessia, two total opposites that fit together like a puzzle. She pushed the national captain as she poked fun at her. You were deemed 'The Bloodhound' early in your career by the media after endless fights where you left the cage a bloodbath.
"You can say that. She's still heal-" The boisterous of their teammates cut Alessia off, stumbling and cackling at whatever their drunk minds thought was funny. Leah threw herself next to Lia, pointing to Katie, her finger unsteadied as a result of her tipsiness. "I got it last time, McCard. It's your turn."
The Irish childishly shook her head, throwing up the bird, "No." Leah huffed, her infamous frown appearing.  She turned to the person next to Katie. "Fine. Caitlin, you go."
"She's not going."
The blonde threw her arms up in frustration, so much for being capitan. "Someone had to go, Katie! You've been weaseling your way out of rounds for the last two months!" The said weasel denied it, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.
Leah's glare intensified, she wasn't a quitter, far from it. Even as a drunk, giving up was never in her dictionary. She stood up, ready to drag the queen of reds to do her go.
Lia, being the only sensible one there, quickly sat the Williamson down, giving her a warning not to start a fight.
"What about our depressed lover over there? She hasn't done anything. No dancing, no drinking. A little mood killer if you ask me." Katie winced as she received slaps from all around, unable to pinpoint who exactly hit her. Alessia cleared her throat, dumbfounded by how she got dragged in.
Lia held out a hand, stopping Katie from going off her rockers and possibly digging her own grave if you were to find out about how she spoke to your fiancé. "Hey, now. Alessia isn't in the mood, we should respect that and be happy she's even here." Alessia squeezed Lia's hand, thanking her for coming to her defense.
However, the people-pleaser side of Alessia won. She moved to stand, but Lia's hand halted her from doing any further. Her concerns made Alessia glad that she had someone in her corner for the wild night. "It's fine. She's sorta right, I've been a killjoy. Maybe this will loosen me up."
"Are you sure?"
Alessia gave Lia the okay, slipping out of her hold, and down to the crowd. Internally gagging at the stench of body odor hitting her unexpectedly. Fresh air welcomed her as she exited the crowd, breathing deeply, the cool air traveled through and around her body.
She rested her arms on the bar, calling the bartender for the round she volunteered to collect. Alessia daydreamed as she waited, snuggling up against you after tonight sounded like the perfect dream to make into a reality.
"Hi."
Alessia didn't flinch at the new voice, too caught up with herself to realize that she was being spoken to. She jumped slightly at the tap on her shoulder, surprised by the close proximity. "Oh, hi." It was small and brief, a simple acknowledgment of him. That's all. At least Alessia thought it was.
"Are you here alone?"
Alessia shook her head uninterested, looking back at the bartender to see if he was preparing her order. He wasn't.
"Who are you here with?"
She sighed, annoyed that he couldn't get the hint. Unbothered to look at him, Alessia answered, hoping the mentioned presence of her team would scare him off. "I'm here with my mates."
"Brilliant. Would your mates mind if I tag along?"
Alessia isn't the type to be easily angered, she grew up with two brothers by force she learned how to have more patience than the average person when it came to men and their small minds.
But something about this stranger irked her. So, she bit her tongue of what she really wanted to say, 'fuck off' and instead said, "They would actually. It's a girl's night and they'll be really upset if it was intruded."
Her saving grave, the bartender came back and he wasn't alone. Alessia quickly picked up the platter, leaving without so much of a goodbye.
There were no cheers or clicking of the shots, as everyone threw their head back to down the hard liquid. Kyra emerged from the crowd, eyes blown and a big smile that stretched cheek to cheek.
She latched onto Alessia's arm, "You're being boring tonight! It's my birthday!" Kyra tugged her to the middle of the room, an area Alessia tried to avoid.
Alessia grabbed onto the nearest person, drawing them along, soon enough a chain of gunners were trailing behind her. Alessia took shot after shot, shortly after, her body relaxed into the rhythmic beats.
She neglected to notice the unexpected hands on her waist as the hands closed around her, squeezing tightly, Alessia instantly knew that these hands weren't a friend of hers.
She roughly pulled away, spinning to see the stranger from the bar. He wore a smirk, smug that he got as close as he did with her. "What the hell are you doing?" He threw his arms to the side, showcasing a little dance of his.
"Dancing, dear. Come back, we were just having some fun."
Alessia shook her head, disgust seeped under her skin. She felt repulsed at some stranger touching her. "No, leave me alone. I am not interested."
"It looked like you were pretty interested. What was that move you did? The one where you were moving your hips side to side. Do you mind doing that again?"
Alessia turned away, thinking it would be best to take her leave rather than speak to him any further. Alas, the stranger couldn't care less. He followed Alessia, shoving bystanders out of his way. "Wait! Do not run off!" She ignored him, scurrying to the booth of gunners.
Just as Alessia was about to reach the table, she was pulled back. She gasped as a huge body engulfed her, Alessia mustered up the strength to push away but the attempt was too futile. "Get off!"
Alessia curled up as much as she could in his hold, his efforts to land a kiss on her neck was challenged by her strong resistance. "I'm a nice lad! Don't be so difficult!" He laughed in disbelief as Alessia struggled, the scene began to gather the attention of nearby clubbers.
"Let me go! Fuckin prick!"
Everything happened in a flash, Alessia was yanked away, bodies meddled between him and her. Mixture of brunettes and blondes filled Alessia's sight.
"You're okay. They're handling it."
Alessia could hardly register Viv's soft voice, the tall Dutch led her out the club, withdrawing from the chaos as the fight got bigger. Viv rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm the shaken girl.
She ignored the security guards that rushed into the building, faint sounds of glass breaking reached her ears. "I'll take you home as soon as Beth is done."
Panic swept through Alessia, red eyes going wide at the thought of returning home. "No! If I go home, she'll know something happened. I can't- I can't-" Viv hushed Alessia, hugging the younger as she spiraled.
Alessia didn't have to specify who she was talking about, only one person was waiting at home for Alessia. That person is you.
"Less, are you scared of yn?"
It was a question Viv didn't want to ask but did. Alessia's reaction to going home wasn't normal especially if it held the person who loved you and you, her. It's a red flag that Viv wasn't so quick to brush off.
Alessia flinched, staring at Viv as if she said the most absurd thing known to man. "What? No! No! Never! I'm scared for her! If she finds out what happened tonight-" Alessia suddenly stopped, she didn't want to believe what happened, happened.
How close he was, how his hands were all around her, how she felt his front pressed up against her. It physically and mentally sickened Alessia to the core.
She collected herself the best she could, staring straight into Viv's eyes. "She'll kill him. Viv, those beatings she does in the cages are nothing. That's her having fun. But this will set her off. You have to promise me that yn wouldn't hear a word about this. Viv promise me."
You couldn't find out, not when Alessia knew the lengths you'd go to protect her. Not when she knew how ill-tempered you were and how easily you got lost in your fit of anger. Alessia was your weakness, she knew that you knew that. Which is why you couldn't know, Alessia had no doubt you'd go on a manhunt to track down whoever harmed her.
Viv gazed into the abyss, unable to comprehend the fear Alessia had for you. You were someone with physical power, that Viv knew, you had the skills and scars to prove it. It was what you trained for, nearly two decades you've been building up your skills to hurt people for a living.
The active terror Alessia showed let Viv know that you were lawless by your own rules. "Okay, okay. I promise. And the others will too." That calmed Alessia down a bit, she leaned into Viv's side watching the passing cars as they waited for the rest.
"Fuck off!"
Katie came out first, followed by the rest of the players and security guards. Yelling and cursing lingered in the air, Viv ignored it, guiding Alessia to the car. "Let's wait in the car. It'll be a while before they quiet down."
The unfortunate events replayed in her mind like a broken record, it kept playing and playing. If she was lucky, sometimes it'd short-circuit. Then, all she could see was you, it felt like a dream. Like you weren't real, and that she was simply imagining someone to protect her to the very end.
But you were real.
You were real and Alessia had a tough time believing that. Believing that you her knight in shining armor. Whispers of promises in her ear at night, how you engraved that into her. But, you were nowhere to be seen when Alessia needed you the most. Instead, you were at home resting.
Part of Alessia wanted to blame you, yet she couldn't, she wouldn't. Not when you were her person, especially not when Alessia understood very well that if you were with her, you'd be in a jail cell by the time the sun rose.
You lost the ability of control when it came to Alessia, if someone were to so much as trip her, you'd return the favor tenfold. The more Alessia thought about you, the more she desired to go home.
"Hungry? We can go to Greggs."
Beth peered over at Alessia, the young striker hadn't made a peep since arriving at the couple's flat and that was hours ago. Beth and Viv stayed up the entire night nurturing Alessia to a certain extent, she allowed. Which wasn't much.
She inhabited the couch corner, not even a slight inch off. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or moved, her brain going haywire, and they couldn't do anything about it.
Beth kneeled, placing a comforting hand on Alessia's knee, gaining her attention without spooking her. "Why don't you take a shower? I imagine sticky sweat isn't the best feeling on the body."
Ease rippled through the couple as Alessia finally moved in the last eight hours, though it was short as Alessia's movements were slow and calculated. Beth patiently waited for her, directing Alessia to the awaiting shower that called her.
The shower did more than just cleanse Alessia of sweat, the overwhelming emotions of the night washed down the drain never to be seen or felt again. Alessia preferred it that way, it was better to believe that it was gone rather than it be stuck on her.
She'd rather be numb than feel what she felt in that dreadful encounter.
Alessia avoided looking into the mirror, squeezing the towel around her tight as she exited the warm steam. The coldness of the early morning greeted her, she walked over to the bed, holding up the Arsenal pull-over Beth set out for her.
She quickly put it on, brushing it down only for her eyes to catch the coloring on her hips. Her fingers lightly grazed the finger-print bruises, her breath hitches as flashbacks of his firm grip on her were physically felt in that second.
Alessia wanted to cry, she didn't want to feel as if someone was standing behind her, she didn't want to feel as if she was being touched like some sort of pet.
Alessia pushed down her tears along with anything else rising to the surface. She walked out the room, the conversation hushed as she came into view, and Alessia didn't care to bring it up knowing fully well it was about her. She sat next to Viv barely returning a smile, "Feel better?" Alessia ignored her, that was the better option.
The truth would raise more questions than she could handle right now. "I'm going home. Yn probably stayed up for me and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer." Understatement of the century. Alessia couldn't grasp the fact that time passed, only assuming, too stuck in her void to feel time's existence.
"Don't fret. I called her and told her you were too tired to make it home. She knows you're here."
Stunned, Alessia sent Beth a nod. "Thanks, but I should really get going." Viv and Beth got the obvious hint that Alessia didn't want to be there anymore, she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket, zipping past them.
The couple hastily followed behind, catching Alessia right at the door. "Let us drive you. We can get Greggs on the way." They didn't give Alessia too much room to argue, Viv grabbed her keys as Beth pushed her out the flat.
"You can ride front seat."
Alessia carefully closed the door, releasing a breath now that she was alone. Beth and Viv had been absolutely sweethearts to Alessia during her stay, but she needed time to herself, time away from eyes that were waiting for her to break.
Slowly and quietly, she shuffled to the kitchen, not a single object out of place since she left. Alessia grabbed a water bottle, the first source of intake she allowed her body to have. The Greggs paper bag perched on the counter, dismissing what Viv had gotten her.
In the safety of her own home, Alessia felt her body ease into itself, the familiarity of these four walls secured her protection and well-being. Something Alessia never thought she'd crave so much.
She went in search of the only person wanted, needed. Weights were lifted off of Alessia's chest when she caught you sleeping in bed, looking ever the most peaceful. A state that she wasn't going to ruin with the truth.
Alessia brushed loose strands out your face, laying on her side, snuggling up in your arms absent from the scary world. Her breath hitches as you pull her closer, "You're back." Your voice husky, eyes still shut half-asleep. Alessia's fingers found your dog tag, turning it over to see the engravement of her name and jersey number. A chain you wore proudly. "I'm back."
"Did you have fun?"
Her fiddling stopped, a small shutter of breath escaped her as the haunting hours came back, this is where Alessia was supposed to spew a little white lie. But she couldn't. Never has Alessia lied to you, never thinking she would need to. This would be a lot harder than she thought.
"Less, is everything okay?"
Your eyes barely opened, the bright light peaked through the curtain nerved your sensitivity. Alessia used her finger to soothe your wrinkles, humming as she tried to lull you back to sleep. "Can't remember much of it. I had too much to drink."
Two lies in one.
Alessia remembered everything and frankly, she didn't drink enough to forget.
You patted her back, comforting, "That's alright. You're home now." Your words brought her more comfort than you can imagine. Alessia was home now; she was home with you, within these four walls. She couldn't be more safer than she is right now.
In your upcoming years as a fighter, you were taught to control your emotions going as far as to eliminate them. The human instinct to feel sympathy for beating another wasn't an option when it came down to winning titles.
By default, you suppressed them to the alternatives outside the cage. Thus, you didn't experience the depths of anxiety or stress like many others did.
But, in recent times it seems as if you're experiencing life in a new manner. You've never been more uneased as you have in the past week. Even minutes before your matches were you never this stressed.
And the main reason for it all is Alessia. The only person in the world to cause you to feel things you normally wouldn't. A blessing and a curse.
Alessia wasn't acting like herself lately, a bit distant something she never was before. Alessia, by nature, was clingy. She clung onto you like a koala does a tree, cuddles, hugs, anything to make your bodies become one, she did. Which is why, her being so distant with you was concerning.
It's been a couple of days since her behavior shifted, at first you thought it was due to the rough start of the week, you were back in camp for your next fight thus your time with Alessia was shorten, she as well was dealing with some tension at work, none she was willing to elaborate.
You figured she needed some alone time to get through.
You tried to be there when she seeked you, yet she hardly did. And you didn't want to push her during a tender time, so you let her be until she was ready. Though, that didn't stop you from actively caring about her, little things such as making her breakfast, washing her uniform, nothing excessive in your mind. Still, Alessia appreciated it all.
Curiosity spiked when she began to wear long sleeves as if it were a second skin, typically you'd brush it off, thinking she hopped on some sort of fashion trend, but the summer heat had her drenched in sweat.
Your attempts to get her into your shirts-which she loved to steal and wear-was useless. Refusing constantly, Alessia stuck to her long-sleeves. You didn't push further, despite your worry each time she went out.
The electricity bill was off the charts that month in turn to keep her cool.
Your agitation heightened when Alessia started to spend more time in the guestroom, it was odd at first considering she rarely stepped foot in the room, in the two years you've lived there.
Guests sleeping over wasn't common therefore your guestroom remained unoccupied most of the time. Not anymore now that Alessia had taken the room for herself.
Aside from the guestroom, it appeared as if you were living alone. You were the only one occupying the common spaces, Alessia nowhere to be seen unless you looked for her. Eventually, your small time together doubled down to nil.
It pained you to see Alessia isolate herself, the last time she acted in such a way was when she was coping with body issues. An unpretty chapter in Alessia's life that none of you spoke about. To prevent a defense lock if confronted, you did whatever you could to build Alessia's self-love without addressing the matter upfront.
It was a bit difficult at first since Alessia's determination to avoid you persisted. You were limited to passing compliments, soft touches, and love letters that you laid in the middle of the bed for her to read when she got home.
Your brief time didn't stop you from showering your girl with the love that she needed and deserved.
The rough week passed and Alessia semi-returned to her normal state. She went back to stealing- your shirts, a more fitting attire for the summer- and her time in the guestroom lessened. She still retreated to the room here and there for an hour or two, nothing you were too worried about now that she seemed better.
Everything was going back to place that is up until, the festival incident.
It happened on a Wednesday afternoon, you and Alessia had gotten caught in the middle of a London festival. One you were aware of too late and thanks to your ignorance, Alessia faced the consequences.
You pushed through the busy festive, pulling Alessia by hand. Bodies pressed up against each other tight spaced, trumpets and cheers blaring in your ears. Rising temper balancing on the cliff's edge as you kept trying to find an escape route, the provoking factors placed you and Alessia on the brink of disaster.
You stood at a whopping six feet using the height advantage to look for an outlet, naive to the shifts in Alessia's breathing. Behind you, Alessia felt her mind and body going haywire.
She could feel her heart beating against her chest, head whipping side to side anxiously seeking for an out. Her throat closed up at the multiple touches on her, she shut her eyes to block out her surroundings but that only made it worse as she instinctively focused on her senses.
Alessia's eyes snapped open, feeling you tug on her. She instantly found your figure, taking her all to concentrate on you. Alessia internally struggled to not think about the prying flashbacks at the back of her mind.
It fought so hard to come forward, to torture her in broad daylight, but Alessia fought harder. She tried to pinpoint the difference between then and now.
The sun was the first she identified, the sun gave her clear view of everyone and everything around her, unlike the colored lights in the dark club. Then there was you. You were the major detail that differed to Alessia, you were there to protect and love her, that's all Alessia needed.
Yet, it didn't stop the strength draining from her body, replaced by what Alessia could distinguish as emptiness. It was in her best efforts to push down the vile feelings, but it was all in vain.
You stumbled back as you felt a cease in Alessia's step. You looked over your shoulder to see her head down, her form shaking like a madman. Without thinking, you closed the distance, calling out to her, but she made no sign that she heard you.
You lifted her head, eyes gaping when Alessia's red teary eyes made contact with yours. Less than a second, you wrapped Alessia in your arms, forcibly pulling her through the crowd, recklessly pushing people out of your way.
You sighed in relief as you and Alessia finally broke free of the bustling street ducking into a small alley. You leaned up against the building, Alessia sobbed into your neck as you settled her. Tears flowed nonstop, you ran your fingers through her hair, humming to tune out the festival's band.
"Can we go home please?"
Alessia looked up at you with her big blue puffy eyes, your heart broke. Your thumb wiped away the lone tear, pecking her forehead. The answer was a no-brainer, you pulled down your hood on Alessia's head, guiding her out the alley and to a taxi, keeping her as close as possible through it all.
For the next few days, you and Alessia isolated yourselves from the world. Alessia didn't want to speak further about it and as much you wanted to, you knew better than to push. You were just glad she wasn't shutting herself in the other room like before.
And Alessia hated it, she hated that you were walking on eggshells with her. She didn't want you to treat her as if she's fragile. Alessia's strong, she knew that she believed it, so why didn't she feel like it?
Instead, she felt suffocated. Alessia began to loathe herself because of it. The constant looks over her shoulder, checking her body as if bruises will appear, it's been two weeks and she can't move on.
A concern started to brew in Alessia's mind, she feared that your relationship may be the cost of her erratic paranoia.
In attempts to salvage or drag out the inevitable, Alessia spent more time with you, she no longer went on your daily walks, but rather to sit on the balcony for her daily fresh air. You didn't mind, she knew that you only went on those walks because Alessia suggested it first, couples' cardio she said.
In all her years, Alessia didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to save herself.
Too stuck in her head to feel Kyra poking her, the Australian entertained herself jabbing the mindless blonde. Giggling when Alessia didn't flinch at the dirty towel thrown at her face.
The younger picked up her water bottle spraying at Alessia, bursting out laughing when she screeched. "Kyra! Go away!" The mischievous player dodged the towel thrown back at her, running away before Alessia could do worse.
Alessia wiped the wetness with her shirt, thankful for Kyra unintentionally pulling her out of her prisoned thoughts. Leah patted the striker's shoulder, pitiful that Alessia had been chosen to be on the end of Kyra's pranks. "So, is the hound coming next week?" Alessia's lip twitched at your alias.
"What's next week?"
"You forgot? The sporting event remember, Jona told us two months ago."
Alessia racked her brain, trying to remember the said event. Then, it hit her, it was a small thing some organization was having to spread the word of football, gain some investors, nothing Alessia wanted to do with. She shook her head, tying up her laces. "I'll skip out. Not in the mood for socializing."
Leah gave her a look, "Mate, it's mandatory. You can't get out of it." Alessia groaned, her plans to laze around with you was a bust. Alessia liked the small bubble, you and her built in your time together, and she wasn't planning on leaving it so soon. But, it looks like she didn't have a choice.
"I'll ask her."
"Is there really a point to? We all know what she's going to say."
Alessia pushed Leah, the captain grinning cheekily at her, a teasing underlining in her words. Everyone who knew you and Alessia's relationship personally knew that you'd do anything she asked.
If Alessia wanted food from a place a town a way, best be known that you're driving all the way there. If she wanted a new car, you're taking her to the dealership within the next hour. In this case, you'd be attending before you were even made aware of it.
"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing...for now. We'll see you there, oh, and it's a white-themed dress code. So, tell the missus, no black. It's not a funeral." Alessia snorted, waving to Leah as she left the locker room. The drive home was about as peaceful as one can be after a long day at work.
Alessia pulled into the lot, funny enough, catching you as you stepped out of your car with a takeaway bag. She kissed you, your favorite way to be greeted by the love of your life.
You swung her gym bag over your shoulder. "What did you get?"
"A protein bowl from that Japanese restaurant down the street and your usual."
Alessia grinned, pecking you on the cheek. "You're the best." You hummed tiredly, holding the door open for her. "I have to speak to you about something." You perked, thinking that she would finally be open about what's happening these few weeks.
"There's this thing, me and the girls are attending. It's obligated that we go but on the bright side, we can bring a plus one. So, darling will you be my plus one?"
You deflated, disappointed but smiled nonetheless. Setting the bag aside, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I would love nothing more. Now, let's eat up. I'm starving."
"It also has an all-white attire. So, no digging deep in your closet for your black suits, darling."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Damn, mami!"
Alessia fought back a smile as you exclaimed loudly, she placed her hand in your reaching one, unable to fight a growing grin any further. She squealed as you spun her, her dress flowing in the air. "You look so good. Are you trying to put me to shame?"
Alessia rolled her eyes, slapping your chest, passing over to the mirror to put on the finishing touches to her outfit. "You flatter me too much." You looked at your girlfriend through the mirror, clearly offended by her words.
"If this is too much, then I'm not doing a good job. Because my girl deserves all the compliments in the world."
You rested on her shoulder, Alessia applied her red lipstick, in your mind she did it too slowly. "You do an excellent job, my love. I can promise you that." Alessia handed you her necklace, beaming at the sight. It wasn't just any necklace, but a 23-karat diamond necklace. One of its kind, personally designed for her.
You gifted to her on your first anniversary, a token that she belonged to you, an object of your love for her.
You clipped it, staring intently as she stroked the diamonds around her neck. Alessia's eyes flickered up to you, blushing, instantly recognizing the emotion swirling in your eyes. You bowed down to kiss upon it, your gloss sticking to her neck painting it with the outline of your lips.
Alessia tilted her head to the side, eyes closing in bliss. You pulled her closer by the waist, your fingertips resting on the zipper. Alessia pulled away when she felt the dress loosen around her, "We can't." You huffed at her breathless words, drooping your forehead on her uncovered back.
"Why? No one will notice us missing."
"Kim will. She'll have me running laps next practice."
You rezip up Alessia's dress, creating some needed distance. "We can't have that now, can we? Let's get going before I rip that dress off." You led her out of the flat, focusing on the numbers as the elevator went.
Internally fighting the urge to drag Alessia back to bed and have your way with her.
You grunted, feeling the hovers of Alessia's fingers dancing across your chest as she played with the buttons on your shirt. You wore a white pantsuit, two out of five unbuttoned, revealing your cleavage and dog-tag.
You looked too good, the longer Alessia studied you, the more regret bubbled in her stomach. She jumped at the elevator chime, you chuckled removing her hand from your chest, intertwining them. 
You opened the car door for her, bending down to match her height as she sat in the passenger seat. The proclaimed passenger princess. "You gone a little quiet, Less." She ignored you, texting whoever was on the other end of the line.
You mockingly pouted, "Don't be bratty with me, love. You're the one who didn't want to take one for the team and run laps." You chuckled at Alessia's silence, walking to the driver side.
You cleared your throat, sipping on a glass of bourbon. Classical music played while businesswomen and men spoke as if they'd do any actual work outside this meaningless gathering. You scanned the room; blinded by the bright white all around. Not an interesting thing in sight.
You concluded that white parties sucked, and parties hosted by old men sucked even more. Them and their greedy ass money, you grimaced as the cheap liquor coated your throat, their inability to buy a good brand irked you.
You hid away in the corner with Alessia and her team, hanging off Alessia's shoulder like a piece of meat. You had no business being there, other than being her eye candy.
Usually, you'd be talking to Katie about her newly collection of red cards that never seemed to stay consistent, but she was too busy sucking up to her girlfriend and there was no way you'll get in the middle of that.
You prepared yourself as your eyes caught Kyra walking over after being shooed off by Leah, the mischievous smirk on her lips let you know that she found her next target, you.
Kyra plopped beside you, instantly ambushing you. You smacked Kyra's prying hands, "Kyra down! Down Kyra!" The little tussle wasn't fair, you refused to remove your arm from Alessia, but even with one hand, you were stronger than Kyra.
The younger girl ignored your demands, continuing her attempts to wrangle your drink out of your possession and into her mouth. "Kyra! I'll buy you a fucking drink! For fuck sakes!" Immediately, like an obedient puppy, Kyra unlatched herself from you, hands intertwined in her lap as she smiled innocently at you.
You whispered your departure to Alessia, well aware that you were doing everyone a favor by taking Kya away. "Follow me, you brat." She trailed behind you, sticking her tongue out at Steph when the older Australian caught her shadowing you to the bar.
As you left with the little troublemaker, the atmosphere in the Arsenal corner became a little calmer. Alessia giggled At Vic's story, the Dutch dodging the slap Alessia delivered, poking fun when she missed.
Vic's laughter died down as her eyes caught on something or someone. Alessia of her own subsided, curiosity knocked on her chest as Vic's body language changed into something Alessia couldn't identify.
"Less, is that the guy from the pub a few weeks back? The one who-"
Vic couldn't bring herself to finish, the effect still remained with Alessia, it was evident to all the girls. Alessia slowly and surely began to act like herself again, but the Arsenal girls knew better. They knew better than what Alessia was leading on.
She squinted as if it would help her see better through the vast crowd, a few bodies shuffled to the side revealing the reason for her all her recent troubles.
London was a big city, the percentage of running into the same people is less than one. The world had to be playing some sick joke on Alessia, as though it wanted blood to be spilled tonight. Something Alessia's been terribly trying to avoid.
Warmth drained out her system, suddenly everything felt chilly yet sweat lingered near her hairline. Alessia struggled to allow oxygen into her lungs, head snapping left and right,desperate to find you.
Vic tried to calm her, speaking in hush tones to get Alessia's attention. But it was useless, Vic called Leah over. Despite yelling for Leah, the entire team heard the urgency in her voice.
They rushed over, huddling over Alessia's shaking figure. Leah kneeled, cupping Alessia's face in her hands, coaching her through her panic. "Less! Alessia! Breath! Mate, breath!"
You shoved Kyra when she blew in your ear, rubbing the ticklish feeling away, never have you met someone so fearless of you. Granted everyone knew you wouldn't hurt Kyra despite her annoying antics. "You little shit, I swear-"
"Are you that MMA fighter? The Bloodhound, right?"
Kyra snickered, you pursed your lips giving her a look, one that meant that you're little fued wasn't over. You turned to the man in suit, he looked like every man in the room...dull. Can no man dress to save their life?
"Yeah, what's up?"
Kyra peeked over your shoulder, wanting a look at who took your attention away from her. Dread, that's all Kyra felt at the sight of him. She couldn't forget him, the bastard that hurt her best friend, someone you didn't know existed until now.
Kyra was aware of Alessia's severe desire to keep what had happened at her birthday celebration a secret.
Steph and Caitlin practically drilled it in her mind, not to slip up when you were around. Kyra didn't expect to see him again, no one did. But, to have him up front and center talking to you freely after what he had done to Alessia, sickened Kyra.
The Aussie searched for her teammates, hoping to catch someone's eye to tell them of the presence of their number one hit list. And Kyra did, however, it wasn't as she had hoped. Laura frenetically waved her over, pointing to you urgently.
"Do you mind if we took a picture?"
Before you could answer, Kyra wasted no time, pulling you away in the direction of her team. You let Kyra do as she pleased, taking in her hurried steps and anxious expression to mind. "Kyra, what-"
"Yn!"
You rushed past those in your way, cupping Alessia's face in your hands. Deja vu hit you like a truck, red teary eyes staring deep into your soul. You placed her on your lap, coaxing her to take deeper breaths. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."
You looked at the Arsenal women for answers, their troubled aura triggered the heap of anger lying underneath your skin. "What the hell happened?"
Some stared at you and Alessia with sorrow, others avoided your eyes, looking at literally anything else.
Out of everyone, the only person who had the galls to look you in the eyes was the captain herself. "Mate, it's not for us to say." Leah glanced over to Alessia, silently telling you that if you wanted answers it would have to come for her.
Leah loved Alessia like her own sister and she couldn't watch her be destroyed by what happened and as your friend, she couldn't allow you to suffer in the dark, clueless.
"Less?"
Alessia's refusal to meet your eyes remained, your jaw clenched. You loved her with all your being, but the anger brewing was too hot to handle. Everyone knew something you didn't, something regarding Alessia, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was serious.
"Alessia." Your voice stern, you were no longer allowing Alessia's excuses to fly over your head. Alessia shook her head, "Please. Please don't make me." Your heart clenched at her pleading, deep down you didn't want to pressure her, but she left you no choice.
"Alessia, what am I missing? What are they hiding? What are you hiding?"
Alessia looked at her friends for help, at the back of her mind, she knew they couldn't. But it was worth a try. Lia nods in encouragement, something so small but so powerful for Alessia.
She cradled your jaw, leaning in your ear, unwilling to see your murderous anger spiral to what she knows will end in crime scene.
The gunners observed as your face hardened, concern switched to rage in seconds. Your brows deepened, jaw and lip tight, what caught their attention was your clenched fists. Veins popped out from your arms to the back of your hand, knuckles ready to take some action.
Alessia pulled back, caressing your pale knuckles. Her lips moved but nothing was coming out of them. You couldn't hear her begging you to not do anything, you couldn't hear her tell you she loved you. You couldn't hear anything but your blood pumping in your ears.
You abruptly stood up, bringing Alessia up with you. You passed your fiance to the nearest person, Beth. "Get her out of here." You pecked Alessia's forehead, ignoring her calls for you to come back. You head to Katie, the sole person on the team who supported violence. "Where is he?"
Wordlessly, Katie pointed him out and what do you know? It's the same dude that asked you for a photo, you scoffed at the sheer audacity of men. You pushed past Katie, sidestepping Leah's hand.
You expertly navigated through the crowd, stalking up to him. Even at a distance, you could make out his figure, he was lean and scrawny, nowhere near your built physique.
You sized him up as you approached, just in time, he turned to notice you, overlooking the smoke coming out of your ears. "Hey! Back for that pic-" His words cut with a right hook to the cheek, and in no time, he dropped to the floor.
You climbed on top of him, balling his collar in your fist, the other delivering strike after strike.
The feeling of your knuckles connecting with his jaw was exhilarating, with every punch you imagine his bones cracking. You grunted as he fought against you, but he was weak.
The first blow was enough to knock him on his back, the countless you landed after offered multiple hospitalization conditions.
You yelled as you felt hands pulling you off. You shoved the random men off you, glaring them down as they took in your physical state. "Touch me again! I'll fuck all of you up!" You momentarily forgot that this was a sports event, the people surrounding you most likely knew who you were.
You watched recognition hit them now that you were in your true form. They heed your words standing back to let you do what you were trained to do. They couldn't save a man getting beaten, but they can definitely save themselves from you.
Huffing, you quickly grabbed the bleeding man by the throat, slamming him onto the bar. The sound of glass pierced everyone's ears, but you paid it no mind. Holding his upper body against the bar, smashing his face in.
You were aware that even your worst opponents didn't get this type of treatment, he was different. He touched your girl, he hurt her, and he was going to pay for it with his life. "Why did you touch her?! Huh?!" An answerless question, you didn't want an answer.
And it wasn't like you were going to get one, the amount of blood flooding his mouth limited him aside from his faint pleas for you to stop.
That only angered you further. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" You let him fall to the floor once again, neglecting the slippery coat on your hands.
Alessia watched from afar as you mounted the stagnant body, repeatedly bashing his face. Beth tried to drag her out of the venue, but Alessia's too stubborn.
You did so much critical damage in a short span period, even from where she stood Alessia could see the blood streaks on the bar and floor. Leah took off first, Katie, Stina, and Steph following behind.
They all knew that you weren't going to let up any time soon and if you weren't stopped now. You were actually going to commit homicide.
Leah and Katie hook their arm around you, yanking you off. "That's enough! He's down!" It was a struggle for the two, you were too strong for them. Steph eventually aided in holding you back, and Stina helped push you four towards the exit.
Alessia quickly ran after you, the rest of the gooners chasing behind, unable to fight the curiosity to check the result of your wrath. When they got outside, they were met with you kicking a poor trash can into the road.
The four that dragged you out stood a safe distance away. The street bustling with dim lights and occasionally passing cars.
Alessia joined the four girls, knowing better than to interfere in your fit of rage when it was at its peak. Alessia studied your new appearance, growing breathless.
Hair ruffled; shirt wrinkled...stained with red patched. It was what Alessia was afraid of, you covered in red. You had blood splattered across your face; blood handprints swiped across your neck, your fists being the most coated.
You rubbed your hands together as if you were moisturizing, the blood quickly drying due to the cold night air. You sighed, a bit calmer now, muttering nonsense to yourself as you paced up and down the sidewalk.
Alessia took it as her cue to walk over, none of the gunners tried to stop Alessia. Wise enough to know that you would never hurt Alessia even in a foot of rage. "Baby. Baby." Her voice was soft, not to startle you.
Your wide eyes darted to her, unexpected by her presence. You were too lost in your fury to be conscious of your surroundings.
She tried to reach for you, but you retreated, shaking your head. "I'm okay, darling. You won't hurt me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, Alessia tried once more, pleased when you didn't move away.
She grabbed your hands, inspecting the cuts on your knuckles, it was hard to see but Alessia managed to pick out the open wounds.
She ignored the blood on her hands, roughly pulling you into a hug. The weighing of all these weeks came crashing down on Alessia, relief flooded her. However that relief was cut short by the sound of sirens, "We have to go! Now!"
Alessia balled the bloodied clothes, throwing them in the trash, it consisted of your entire outfit along with her dress. Its beauty gone as soon as another color tainted it.
Alessia didn't want a reminder of what happened tonight, even though it represented the degree you'd go for her. You nearly beat a man to death for her, guilt tormented Alessia.
The last thing she wanted was for you to run into problems because of her, Alessia roused from her mind upon hearing the water ceasing. Alessia walked into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway.
You sat in the tub, steam rising from the water. You held out your hand, silently offering her to join.
Alessia didn't think twice before she began stripping from her undergarments. She hissed at the heat, lowering herself deeper into the water until it reached her collarbones. Alessia rested back into you, your arms wrapped around her nude waist, burying your face in her neck.
You two sat in silence, embraced by the steam and contents of the hot water. There were no words to explain tonight, Alessia wasn't going to scold you and you weren't going to apologize. You both knew that tonight was needed for both your sanity.
When you passed Alessia over to Beth, the separation that you placed between you and her signified that you were going to do something she wouldn't like. Your attempts to get her out were for her sake, not yours. You weren't keen on her seeing the monster you become.
"I love you, you know that?"
Alessia rested her head back as you peppered kisses on her skin, her eyes fluttered open staring right in yours. Eyes that held love, more than she's ever seen in her life. "I know."
Alessia didn't need to say those three magic words back, you knew, you always knew. What you need to know is that if she knew. If she knew that you loved her more than the world could imagine. 
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Text
Transferrable Skills Part 1
Transferrable Skills Masterlist
Your therapist warned you about superstitious thinking. You've been working on it. In fact, you've been very good at catching it, challenging yourself to relax, and letting things go. Even before this big work trip, you consciously avoided the "unhelpful" rituals and reminded yourself that the little ones were just to make you feel secure, not to actually influence the future across an ocean.
"I'm very nervous," you had told Señor Snuggly two weeks ago. Your worn out stuffed lizard hadn't said anything back, of course. "That's normal, because it’s an international flight. So I'm going to give you a hug good-bye, and you're gonna stay here to watch the house. I know it's not going to change anything, but I'll feel better knowing you're here."
At the airport, you realized that you had forgotten your toothbrush. It had satisfied the part of your brain that was looking for one (1) thing to go wrong. Superstitious thinking, but the kind that helped you to relax and listen to music until you boarded.
Now, forced to sit on the floor, surrounded by shouting men with guns, your brain is stuck on your lopsided stuffed animal and blue toothbrush. Of all the things that could pop into your head, why those?
You almost let out a nervous giggle at the mental image of Señor Snuggly using your toothbrush as a shiv to save the day. And then the idea of what would happen if you started laughing right now almost startles you into another burst of giggles. You clap your hands over your mouth and curl into yourself a little bit more.
Next to you, your boss throws you a sympathetic look. "You okay?"
"No talking!" The nearest assailant yells in heavily accented English. You're pretty sure the attackers have been speaking Russian, but you could be mistaken. He brandishes his gun. "You want to die?"
"She needs to go to the restroom," your boss answers.
"No, I don't," you protest. You really, really do, and have for the last two hours. But being escorted out of the room alone seems like enough of a Bad Idea that your bladder can wait.
"No, she does not," the man confirms. "Shut up. Do not talk."
You meet your boss's eyes and try to silently convey, Why are you trying to get me killed?
His doughy face says back, I am a white man who goes to the gym once a week, and I really like the John Wick movies. I have delusions of being a hero. If one man takes you to the bathroom I have the mistaken belief that I can overpower two men with guns to save everyone. Also you're a black woman, so don't you have super powers? I believe in you, queen.
You may be projecting.
Ten minutes later, just as you're wondering if you should suggest a group field trip down the hall to the bathrooms, a series of gunshots rings through the building. The energy in the room goes from nervous to frantic in an instant. Your bladder shuts up. The Russian men start shouting and waving their guns, apparently too agitated to speak English. Two hostages start crying because no one else speaks Russian, just English, French and your half-forgotten, informal, Mexican Spanish.
Another three Russians come bursting in the room, snarling something you can’t understand. They grab at a couple of people, force them to stand at gunpoint and gesture to the rest of you. And then everyone is up and kind of moving in the direction of the door. But you can’t get out of the door because they’re blocking it, but they’re really agitated that the room is still full of hostages. And then some people are being pushed back down to the floor. Your boss ends up sitting back down again. A hard hand closes on your arm before you can get down, and you and four others are dragged out.
The leader says, “You all are dignitaries, yes? Your embassies will send money or they will watch you die.”
This is, potentially, the worst possible scenario. None of the five of you are even remotely important, let alone dignitaries. You’re not 100% sure about most of the others, but you’re an aid. An aid to an aid, really. The blonde woman with the remarkably sharp bob is a personal assistant. Today’s conference was about health data management, of all things.
You decide you’re not going to die with a full bladder. You look to the man holding your arm in an iron grip and point to the upcoming door on the right. “Can I please go to the restroom? I’ll be quick.”
He asks the leader something in Russian, and then you’re being shoved through the bathroom door. He doesn’t follow you into the stall, but it’s still so awkward to pee knowing that there’s a man with a gun waiting for you. You’re so glad you aren’t on your period - opening the wrapper on anything right now would feel louder than it has since middle school.
The door to the restroom opens just as the toilet finishes flushing. You hear a scuffle, an aborted shout, and then something heavy hits the floor. You freeze, heart racing. But then there’s no more sound.
You wait for what feels like an hour but must only be a minute before calling, “H-hello?”
You don’t get an answer. Unlocking the door and easing it open, you peek out and stifle a gasp. The man who had escorted you is on the ground, a pool of blood growing around him. His gun is gone.
You’re halfway through washing your hands before you realize you’re on autopilot.
It takes everything in you to fight down the urge to freeze in place and make yourself inch around the body to the door. When you poke your head out, the hall looks so normal that it makes you dizzy for a second. You try to decide what to do through the anxiety fog. You can’t hide in the bathroom with a dead body, and you probably can’t go back to the big room with everyone without getting shot. You have no idea where the other faux-dignitaries were taken. Apparently, there’s at least one person going around killing people in bathrooms.
You try to think of what your therapist would say in this situation. All of the options feel bad, she would say. So you can’t not do anything because it feels bad. Thank the anxiety for trying to keep you safe, then try to pick the least awful course of action.
“Fight, flight, freeze, fawn,” you whisper to yourself. Fighting is right out. “Flight, freeze, fawn.” There’s a body pouring blood right behind you. “Flight, fawn.” No one is around to appease. “Flight.”
Another gunshot and shouting. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, so you head right.
You shuck off your sensible kitten heels and fervently wish your otherwise sensible pantsuit wasn’t pastel purple in this very beige hallway. Not that a thicker-than-European-average black woman mincing around in a Swiss hotel and conference center would be inconspicuous in a black suit, your mind counters itself. You try to force your brain to shut up, with mixed success.
You wander a good five minutes, reminding yourself not to panic at every locked door you try. The halls are so quiet that you half convince yourself that you’ve gotten out of immediate danger. So of course, right as you’re about the round the next corner, one of the Russians appears, reeling backwards. And then he collapses, a knife sticking out of his neck.
You can’t really worry about that, though, because right after him comes one of the largest men you’ve ever seen. He must catch sight of you out of the corner of his eye, because his head snaps to look at you. You barely register the assault rifle in his hands because his eyes bore into you through the top half of a human skull.
Oh, I’m glad I already peed, you think, staring into the eyes of Death.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” the man says, growls really. “What are you doing here?”
“I… bathroom? Please don’t kill me. I’ll cooperate.” you squeak out. Oh, fawning! Cool.
“Price, I’ve got one of the hostages,” he says, nonsensically. “I’ve cleared the east wing.”
You jump when his walkie-talkie - of course it’s a walkie-talkie - squawks back an “Affirmative. Status?”
“She’s up and walking,” the man says, not taking his eyes from yours. “Seems uninjured.”
“Stow her somewhere safe.”
“Negative,” Death says. Before you can panic because what the fuck does that mean? he says, “Bringing her back with me.”
“Copy.”
When he takes a step toward you, you stop breathing. Everything in you is screaming RUN and DON’T MOVE at the same time. His second step in your direction results in a full body twitch. You get the impression that the gun is pointed at the ground, but the only thing you can really see is bone white over a black mask and what might be really pretty brown eyes, but the shadow from the overhead light really makes it hard to tell and your vision is going a bit darkaroundtheedgesandohI’mstillnotbreathingthat’snotgreat.
You’re shocked into gasping when a gloved palm touches the side of your face. The rough material helps you settle into your body, just in time to start hyperventilating.
And that’s when things get weird, because Death says, “Easy, lovie. Settle, f’ me, yeah? Deep breaths, like we’ve practiced.”
Your brain latches on to the familiar command to settle before you can even question why it’s familiar. The way the man makes a long, low shushing noise makes you so suddenly weak in the knees that you stagger where you stand.
And then it clicks. Holy shit. You know this voice. You know these commands. You’ve been listening to and learning them at least once a week for the last six months. He doesn’t even sound that different from over the phone or on a video call.
“There you go, that’s good,” Simon, the dominant you’ve been seeing online, tells you through his skull mask. “Keep breathin’. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”
It’s the second time in your life you’ve been surprised out of a panic attack. “W-what the fuck? Si?” you gasp. “What are you doing here? Did you kill that guy?”
“Questions are gonna have to wait,” he says. “Keep breathing. In for four, hold for two. In for two, out for eight. Can you do that?”
“Why are you in Switzerland?”
“Breathe,” he rumbles. “Settle.”
“No,” you hiss, even as your shoulders relax another fraction. The corners of your eyes start prickling with tears.
“This is a double red light situation,” Si says, staring into your eyes. “I know you’re scared, but I’m going to get you out of here. You trust me?”
“You are wearing a skull on your face.”
“And you’re wearing a purple suit,” he answers. “There are people who want to shoot both of us. You get one more outburst, then you’re breathing and following me. Acknowledge.”
What the fuck? “This isn’t a scene!”
His eyes bore into yours. “Might surprise you, but I’m aware. Acknowledge.”
A distant shout makes you flinch. You relent. “Acknowledged. Four in, hold two, two in, out eight. Follow.”
“Good girl,” he says, patting your cheek once. “Stay behind me.”
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sourpeachsayshi · 5 months
Note
You had more thoughts about big bro Choso??
I'm listening 🎤
⊱ ─── [ marathon ] ─── ⊰
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: public (is it pseudo incest if yuji is asleep? and choso is his brother?); heavy petting; kissing; nipple play; dry humping; reader is yuji's best friend; choso is yuji's brother; non curse au; hooking up in secret; size kink
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: nyx, my beloved. I initially was going to write something short, but decided to expand on this and I'm wrapping it up as a little gift to you <3
midnight rolls around, the living room glowing in blue light. yuji is on the floor, curled into a ball with his eyes shut as he snores quietly. the movie is still playing, you know it's the last one, but you've got another hour and thirty minute left and it only just started. usually you wouldn't be so conscious of the time, eventually falling asleep, but halfway through choso decided to join you both and you've been on the edge of your seat ever since.
he's so big. his strong, muscular legs taking up quite a bit of space on the humble sized sofa. you find yourself fidgeting with your outfit. tugging at the hem of your short dress as you adjust the straps of the top.
your cheeks are already warm, even though choso is innocently just watching the movie.
"you cold?" he asks, keeping his eye on the screen but picking up on your restless movements.
"yes," you lie. it's actually quite nice - neither too hot or cold, but you figure you would feel less exposed under a blanket.
choso gets up and walks over to the other side of the room. he picks up two blankets, one which he spreads over yuji's body and the other which unfolds over your lap.
"thank you," you softly answer, snuggling underneath to conceal yourself.
"no problem," he nonchalantly replies, but your body shivers when you notice that he sits even closer to you.
you try to watch the movie, tell yourself not to think about what happened a couple of weeks ago in choso's room. you nip at your bottom lip, your belly fluttering with guilt. you swore it would be the last time. you can't keep lying to your best friend like this. hate that you've been showing up at his place more often under false pretenses.
"comfy?" a deep voice whispers against your ear, and you squeeze your thighs underneath the blanket as you swallow the lump in your throat.
a breathy response comes out of you. "yeah, I am"
"good," he answers back, his fingers moving to unravel the blanket even more. "make some room for me then, I'm starting to feel the cold too.."
another lie. but a lie that makes your heart quiver with anticipation.
silence lingers, the two of you keeping your eyes on the television screen. you glance in his direction, wetting your lips at his handsome features. his hair is out, flowing freely to his shoulders, with some of the layers pulled into a half up do. his exposed ears show off his silver jewelry, and you notice a new piercing on his helix. his dark brows frame his perpetually exhausted eyes, his jaw tight and his mouth in a firm line.
he turns towards you just as you quickly glare at the screen pretending like you weren't just gawking in his direction.
choso leans closer, intruding into your space. "this movie sucks"
"it's only slow in the beginning," you insist, "it gets better towards the middle..."
his touch is warm, it makes your thigh tingle when he places his palm over your exposed flesh.
he strokes his thumb back and forth across your skin, "does it?"
"you should pay attention," you murmur, your legs spreading on their own accord, your face finally turning to his. he's so close that your noses bump, and you look at him with sparkling eyes. "the details are really important..."
"are they?" he answers back with a slight grin, teasing you as always. his shy, introverted personality tucked away somewhere else.
your heart pounds in your chest, your attention quickly moving to yuji who is still asleep on the floor.
"I can't seem to pay attention when you've been walking around the place in this little thing all day," choso adds on, stealing your focus once more.
the heat blooms in every space that makes a pulse. you know it's been a distraction, that was the whole point of you wearing it. the top fits a little too snug, your breasts pushed up and on the cusp of spilling out. the hem was a dangerous length, and you are far too ashamed to admit it was for the purpose of easy access.
his hand trails upward, the pads of his fingers delicately tracing a path up along your inner thigh. you gasp lightly against his lips, an electric spark running up the base of your spine when you feel him press his index finger against your underwear.
"what's got you so wet?" he purrs into your mouth, his bottom lip grazing over your own.
your eyes shoot to yuji again, your anxiety out on full force.
you place one hand on his shoulder in an attempt to pull yourself out of this precarious position, but choso simply slips his free arm behind your waist and tucks you into his frame. he kisses the corner of your mouth, his affection traveling to the sweet spot against your neck.
you swallow a whimper, his mouth hot and wet against your flesh. "choso-" you whine as quietly as possible, "your brother is right there-"
his lips find yours, he silences your warning with a kiss. his thumb traces the slit of your clothed cunt, his other hand slithering upward to squeeze your left breast.
"he can sleep through a earthquake," he replies nonchalantly. "we're fine"
you know it's true, but it still feels so...inappropriate.
your hand moves to hold his jaw, your body melting into his weight while you both make out on the sofa. he arches forward, keeping your back resting against the arm chair, the blanket falling to your lap and exposing your upper body. he removes his hand from between your legs, and hooks his index finger around the straps of your dress.
he pulls them down, drags the fabric further to reveal the deep swells of your breasts. a moan leaves you when he finally releases you from his kiss, your spit slick lips panting to catch your breath. he pecks your neck, the indentations around your collar bones, and further down. his greedy hands pull at your dress, just low enough that your hardened nipples are exposed. he uses both thumbs to massage the tender buds, a satisfied expression highlighting his face.
"I knew you weren't wearing a fucking bra" he smugly states.
your head falls back against the arm rest, your body tingling with pleasure from him tweaking and rolling your nipples. you shift your head to check on yuji again, your stomach twisting into a knot out of guilt.
before you can let yourself spiral into the depravity of your sin, choso glides his tongue over one of your nipples to silence your thoughts. the blanket is barely covering you both, the hem of your dress hiked up as your body slowly becomes horizontal.
the movie plays, a scene of passionate dialogue ensuing among the characters while you and choso make out heavily on the sofa. the music carries, a sudden boom from the bass making you both freeze. you both turn to yuji, noticing him shift onto his back still heavy with sleep.
you tremble underneath choso, gazing at him with frightened eyes.
"I can't-" you insist with a shake of your head, while he sighs against your neck.
your both in this position for a seconds, until he murmurs an "okay".
before you know it he's picking you up like you’re featherlight, maneuvering your disheveled state until he has you situated on his lap. large hands find your hips, and he drags you back until you can feel his length press up against your ass.
"relax," he whispers again, his teeth nipping at your delicate lobe. "you keep watching the movie..."
you find yourself obliging as you mold into his chest, your breasts heaving when you breath heavily as he grabs one of your tits in his hand to knead at your pebbled nipple. his other hand finds your soaked underwear once more, and presses the cloth between your lips as he massages the folds.
your vision is blurry, the blue light morphing the colors and the shapes all around you. you brain is a fuzzy thing, lobes made of cotton that's slowly being plucked.
choso kisses your shoulder, his hip bucking slightly to add some friction against his cock.
"turn around"
"but-" you stutter, your back slightly arching when he pinches your nipple.
"it'll be quick, just turn around and face me..." he firmly dictates, and you're so horny at this point that you simply just oblige with frustration.
he keeps the blanket in place as you spin, straddling him properly with your arms locked around his neck.
"lay on me," he adds soft, holding you in a gentle embrace as he hides both of you underneath the blanket.
you sigh dreamily feeling the brush of his cock against your cunt, choso's hands grip onto the plush meat of your ass, and you both instantly start grinding against one another for some much needed relief. his soft tee adds friction to your chest, your nipples brushing over his hard torso. your fingers sink into the locks of his hair, your thighs spreading further as you move with a little more conviction.
"shit-" he groans, lightly tapping your ass to egg you on. "oh shit, that feels good..."
you raise yourself up slightly, forgetting for a moment that you both aren't alone. you look down at where your sexes meet, watching yourself slide back and forth over the imprint of his cock. choso stares at your pussy with concentration, one hand traveling to slip an index finger underneath the fabric. he tugs it to the side, giving you better access. you're trembling, your arousal coating the light material of his sweatpants.
choso is bucking his hips subtly, the sound of the sofa creaks mildly. his eyes fall to your chest, the dress resting just under your nipples, your body glistens as a mist of sweat glitters your skin.
your thighs quiver, a ghost of a whine muted by the television screen when your stomach flutters as you reach your orgasm. choso moans, his head falling back to the sofa when he cums, tainting his sweats with a large, noticeable stain.
the heat of the moment dwindles fast for you, and you quickly glance over your shoulder to make sure that yuji is still asleep.
choso's fingers find your chin, turning you back to face him as he lowers you to his lips. "told you nothing wakes him up," he reassures.
"we can't keep doing this," you add with a shake of your head.
"you say this every time," he notes, helping you as he readjusts the straps of your dress.
"we...we went a bit too far..."
"too far is me fucking you, sweetheart..."
you gaze at him with frustration as you slither off his lap, tugging the blanket over you as shame burns your skin. you try to readjust your position, licking your lips only to find that you can still taste him on your tongue. but then he shifts, his mouth against your ear once more.
"and we haven't done that...yet."
428 notes · View notes
desi2go · 5 months
Text
Importance
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pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader
warnings: angst, fluff
summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...
author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!
Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.
Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.
Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.
Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.
Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.
Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.
You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.
The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.
You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.
But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.
As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.
Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.
Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.
The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.
Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.
He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.
He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.
The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.
Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.
When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.
When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.
You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.
Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.
You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.
On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.
Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.
More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.
He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.
Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.
You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.
You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.
It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.
It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.
You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.
He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.
"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.
"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.
"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.
"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.
"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"
"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."
"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"
"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.
"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.
"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.
"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.
These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.
"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.
"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.
"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."
You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.
Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.
It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.
You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.
After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.
Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.
He just followed you, deep in thoughts.
"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.
"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."
"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.
His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.
"I love you Chan" you whispered.
"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"
724 notes · View notes
ggidolsmuts · 6 months
Text
Fire in the Belly (and the Womb)
A/N: This follows up from the previous story Sins, Hormones, and the Starlet's Boyfriend
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"Hey Yunjin, wow, that looks a little too breedable, hope it's not too cold." Yunjin's head snaps at the stylist's comment.
"What? What did you say?" she asks tersely.
"Huh? I said it looks breathable, like I hope it doesn't get too cold out there."
"Oh, got it, yeah, should be fine, sorry stylist-unnie." The stylist looks at her oddly, but just shakes her head and leaves.
"Yunjin, are you ok?" Sakura lays a concerned hand on her. "You seem off."
"Ah yeah, I'm fine." She was decidedly not fine. Yunjin is horny, and just like someone with horns, she snaps out at people unexpectedly. Her nights have been muted but wet, her moans muffled into the pillow to not disturb her members. Regrettably her own self-pleasure has been unsatisfying. No thanks to him! Nothing felt quite as good after her evening at Somi's place. They did work together on some songs after, but whenever she ran into him with Somi he was nothing but polite. Like a puppy he was devoted to Somi, checking in on her, leaving her little notes in her studio, and never sparing Yunjin anything but a courteous nod and greeting. It bugged her, not that she was jealous of Somi, more that she was envious of Somi, because she knows what he was capable of.
That he could be a wolf at Somi's wishes, and that he could tear Yunjin's clothes apart and eat Yunjin whole. That he would make her scream in pleasure, and she needed to scream in pleasure, to let loose right about yesterday. She can't do that in the dorms! A dildo is nice and all, and Yunjin has one or two that stretch her pretty well, but not with the force he could drive into her. There's also a fire in her belly, or rather, fire in her womb, and no dildo could satisfy her raw desire to have potent cum pumped straight into her. So with a hand drifting between her legs, she taps out a message to Somi.
*Hey Somi, really sorry to ask this, can I borrow your boyfriend for a night?*
*Like last time? sure, I could use a break after last week, when do you want him*
Yunjin let's out a muted moan at that thought—she can only imagine what the two of them have been up to, how hard does he go that the energetic Somi needs a break? And when does she want him? Oh god like a month ago! It takes all of her self-control to not type "ASAP" into her phone, and instead Yunjin settles for:
*Whenever's good for him*
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Even with a date set, Yunjin still finds herself surprised, yelping when she sees him come through her dressing room door.
"Shh, unless you want everyone to know."
"What are you doing here?" She hugs him, a friendly greeting.
"Somi wanted me to give you a surprise." The greeting turns intimate, and Yunjin's body is suddenly flooded with heat as he pulls her flush against him. His hand is daring, and through the mirror behind him she watches his hand dip under her skirt, and then—
"Ohhhhh!" The loud moan leaks unbidden as he squeezes her ass firmly, palming her cheek over the safety shorts. Fuck now she wants to take the shorts off, to have him squeeze her ass directly, maybe spank it even. Unconsciously she pushes her hips back, wanting him to feel more of her ass. Very consciously he pushes her hips back to him, and there is a different kind of flooding as he presses his hardness against her.
"Not so loud, you really want to get caught don't you?" Yunjin doesn't want to get caught, but it feels so good to be touched, to be handled roughly like the way he was doing right now. "You're looking mighty breedable." This time Yunjin's sure she did not mishear. If anything, he would want her outfit to be completely breathable—naked, specifically. To her delight he unbuckles his pants, quickly revealing his stiffness.
Yes! He smiles into her neck and Yunjin freezes, did she say that out loud? There's no time to think though as he pushes her down slightly, and Yunjin's mind goes blank, feeling his shaft even through the layer of her safety shorts. She buries her face in his chest, muffling her moans as he rubs his cock between her legs—she helps him by grinding down on it, as if she's trying to split her lips over his tool.
"Close your thighs." Yunjin follows his request immediately, and the two of them breathe a little heavier as skin meets skin, her smooth thighs rubbing against his raw hardness. He begins to move, thrusting slowly between her thighs and rubbing against her pussy, and the memories of their previous encounter come easily to mind. A large hand squeezes her butt again, and his fingers dig deep into her flesh, sinfully tracing between her cheeks. Yunjin's reminded of the way he grabbed Somi's ass last time, and intrusive thoughts start coming in, her mind going wild as she imagines how they fuck, influenced by the bits and pieces she hears from Somi.
I could use a break after last week
First thing he does coming home is to jump me
He just explodes in you
"Nngh fuck..." This was just supposed to be a little surprise tease, but Yunjin's so deprived that even this is enough to have her hurtling towards an orgasm. A playful smack on her ass, and Yunjin's world goes white. She bites her lower lip hard as she suppresses a squeal, legs going weak as she reaches a relieving climax. When she recovers her forehead is pressed against his chest, and looking down she can see his shaft shining a little, covered in her own slick, rubbing her pussy to extend her pleasure. It's hypnotizing, and Yunjin can't take it anymore.
"You can p-put it in..." she whispers.
"No, not today." Her whine when he pulls away is utterly depraved, watching him put his erection back in his pants. "Today's just a surprise."
"You didn't finish yet!" She wants to help him finish, she wants him. "Let me—" Yunjin drops to her knees, eager to take him in her mouth, but to her shock he resists, taking one more step away from her.
"Nuh-uh, today's loads are for Somi. I'll see you next time." He pats her head, and a stunned Yunjin remains on her knees as the door closes behind him.
Today's... loads? Multiple? For Somi? Somehow, despite her orgasm, Yunjin is even more aroused than before. Yunjin quickly stands up before anyone comes in and sees her kneeling on the ground, but as she does she realizes she has another problem—how is she going to explain why her safety shorts are soaked through?
"Fuck me..." she utters to herself.
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The day arrives, but it is with simmering frustration that Yunjin waits in the hotel room, thighs crossing and uncrossing as she awaits his arrival. She checks her phone constantly—he's late, and yet no message! Surely he didn't forget? Or did he get the day wrong? Or did he skip out on her? Maybe he just thought "Eh, pass." The mere contemplation of the last thought sends Yunjin into indignant anxiety—how could he turn her down! Did he not have a good time last time? Should she have insisted on giving him a blowjob right then?
It is with such thoughts that Yunjin opens the door when he finally arrives, her expression prompting him to ask a patently absurd question.
"Is now not a good time? Should we reschedule?" As if Yunjin could reschedule her need to get fucked!
"No." She pulls him in and slams the door behind him. "You're late."
"By..." He checks his phone. "8 minutes? I just missed the train and had to wait for the next. What's wrong?" Yunjin's self-inflicted dourness lightens as she watches him remove his coat, the mere sight of him taking off clothing reawakening her arousal.
"N-Nothing, just frustrated, sorry."
"Well, that's what I'm here for." Any doubts she had about him or herself go out the window as he hugs her like last time, kissing her demandingly. His fingers run through her hair, his other hand firm around her waist—one strokes her hair, the other strokes her lower back. It is almost sweet, like the last time they had sex, but Yunjin's too horny for that.
"I need you to fuck me roughly," she breathes into his ear, and the stroking pauses.
"Roughly?"
"Last time, the way you fuck Somi, you said there was the intimate way and the—"
"The rough way, yes I remember." His expression hardens slightly, as if preparing to be rough with her, and Yunjin gets wetter. A thrill goes down her spine when he opens his mouth again. "What's your safeword?"
Safeword, oh my god, just how rough do they get?! Yunjin buys herself some time, trying not to think about how rough he and Somi get. "Do you and Somi have a safeword?"
"We did."
"Did?"
"We learnt our limits over time, and we eventually stopped using it." Yunjin isn't scared, but she also worries about biting off more than she can chew, or take, in this case. Nevertheless she bluffs, unimpressed by her own behavior earlier.
"No safeword for me then either, no limits, I can take it." He stares at her, and Yunjin stares back, willing herself to hold his gaze. He is the first to blink, and he clears his throat.
"Let's pick up from where we left off then, I want to use your mouth." He leisurely removes his pants, and Yunjin drops to her knees once more, eager to finally get started. He is in her hands, hard and ready, all for her! She tries to bring her head to his, but is stopped by a hand on her scalp.
"Ah ah, I want to use your mouth, not receive a blowjob. Get on the bed." His tone is commanding, and Yunjin doesn't dare protest. He pulls her to the edge of the bed, her head hanging off the side. "Open." The blood is beginning to rush to Yunjin's head, and she has no stray thoughts, her mouth hanging open upside down.
"Ggllhk, mmph!" It is the first time she takes him in the mouth, and his length seems monstrous in size, filling her oral cavity, and pushing into her throat.
"Breathe through your nose," is the reminder and the order, and Yunjin complies, breathing in oxygen mixed with his musk—intoxicating. "Relax your throat." Deeper he goes, and Yunjin has to strain a little to allow him to push on further. On and on, until his sack taps against her nose and upper lip.
Today's loads, all for me! is the only thought in her head.
"Good?" He asks. Yunjin dangles an arm behind her, feeling his muscular ass and squeezing it, trying to push him forward.
I'm perfect. "Ghhk!" Panic takes over Yunjin when she feels a hand on her throat, giving her a slight squeeze.
"Relax, trust me, let me take over, let me do the work." She breathes deeply through her nose, trying her best to relax her body. "Good girl." Rhythmically the fingers on her throat tense and slack, moving back and forth on her neck. His hips move slightly too—not quite thrusting, just enough for some friction. "Such a nice fucking cocksleeve."
The thought should have incensed Yunjin—her throat, her instrument as Le Sserafim's vocalist, now used as nothing but a fleshlight, a mere instrument of pleasure. Yet as he throbs inside her neck the idea only served to turn her on, to heighten her arousal. He wanted to use her mouth, and by God he was using all of her mouth. Her hands drift to her own body, diving beneath her shorts and between her spread legs. She moans as she touches her lips—she's soaked! However, Yunjin is swiftly admonished, the grip around her throat tightening.
"Not your turn yet." He grabs her arm, pulling it back towards her neck. "Stroke me." He plants a knee on the bed, pushing even deeper, as if trying to fits his balls into her mouth as well. Yunjin is made to choke herself, her own hand grabbing her neck. She feels his thickness inside her throat, coughing a little as it throbs. She runs a hand up and down her neck, smearing her own juices across her skin. "That's it, fuck that's good!" Liquid trickles down Yunjin's face, messing up her makeup—not tears, but her own drool, flowing the wrong way down her face. Everything about this is wrong, why is she choking herself? Why is she letting him pin her head against the bed, why is he dunking his balls into her face?
Why does it feel so good?
When his orgasm happens Yunjin feels it more than tastes it—the jump of his cock, tip hitting the walls of her throat, and then the burst of gooey warmth against it. His hand goes back to her neck, squeezing it like he's gripping his cock, milking it for every drop. Yunjin trembles beneath him, beginning to run out of oxygen as he continues to spurt. The saltiness hits her tongue as he pulls out, the last remnants of his peak glazing across her lips and nose.
"Now it's your turn. Let's make you squirt."
"I'm— Haah, don't, mmm! Squirt." He doesn't give Yunjin anytime to breathe, leaning over her, and plunging his fingers between her legs. There is an audible thump as Yunjin bumps her head against the edge of the bed, her body arching against him at the penetration—it has been too long! She opens her eyes when she realizes he's not moving, two fingers deep inside her keeping her stretched and full, but no friction, no pleasure. His face is at her hips, and he's looking back down her body, smiling back at her.
"You will."
"Mmm..." Yunjin lets her head dangle off the edge of the bed again as he starts moving, massaging her pussy from the inside. Maybe she's just incredibly aroused, but he seems to know just how to touch her, and the hot pleasure going through her body quickly becomes a boil. "Fuck yes, just like that!" She just needed that little bit more!
Then she feels it.
"Oh my god!" Her eyes open in surprise when he presses down on her abdomen, right over where his fingers are inside her. Together the set of hands seem to pin her g-spot in place, and he just works his fingertips against her weakness, prodding and rubbing at it incessantly. It's like he knows her body better than she does. Like he owns it! is the last thought before she blanks out.
"Oh fuck... FUCK ME!" Yunjin screams and grabs at his thighs, fingers digging into his flesh as she squirts for the first time, soaking her clothes like never before. She's too blissed out to even notice his hard-again cock bouncing against her face as she cries and shouts, smearing her pretty face with more leftover semen and newly made precum. When she comes to her head is lying on the bed, and he's caressing her cheek, or so she thought.
"Clean." He brings his fingers to her mouth, and Yunjin dutifully sucks them clean. "Do we taste good?" It takes a moment to process the taste—he had wiped her face with his hand, and his fingers were coated in her juices and his cum! The worst part is, they tasted good together, and Yunjin couldn't wait for their fluids to mix... Elsewhere.
He takes off the rest of his clothes, and Yunjin follows suit, peeling off her now sweaty and wet pieces. As soon as she does he's on her, and Yunjin finds herself facing the wrong way on her hands and knees. The breath is pushed out of her as she is unceremoniously filled. Is this what Somi means by being jumped, that he just turns her around and sinks into her? Does he also use Somi's throat like he did earlier—two of K-Pop's hottest starlets, and their throats and pussies are just wrapped around his cock like toys?
"Nngh... Fuck!" Yunjin doesn't have much more time to think about what he does with Somi as pleasure shoots through her body while he does her. Her cheeks clap loudly against his hips, his hands branding her milky skin with how tightly he's holding her.
"Such a tight fucking body!" he hisses, and Yunjin clenches around him in response, both from the praise and her desire to please him further. Each thrust jolts her senses, and Yunjin is slowly overwhelmed by the pleasure, her arms and legs going weak trying to prop her body up. He soon renders that unnecessary though by grabbing her wrists and yanking them back, pulling her upper body off the bed. He gathers her wrists behind her back, and with one hand holding them there Yunjin is powerless to do anything. 
"God deeper, h-harder!" Her arms are his reins as he rides her to one orgasm, and then another, like a stallion riding its mare. With her hands occupied there's no stifling her loud moans or cries of pleasure that fill the room, and as loud as she gets on Le Sserafim content, Yunjin is arguably even louder in bed. "Fuck I'm cumming! Oh fuck don't stop, please don't stop! F-Faster, more please— Oh my— Mmmmm!" Yunjin's tongue loosens as she finally gets the fuck she's been waiting for for a long time, and she's saying anything that comes to mind, shamelessly telling him how she wants to be plugged—faster, harder, deeper! She's fucked into another "hands-free" orgasm before he lets go, dropping her head to the bed. She finds herself in an even more compromising position when her mind is no longer blank with pleasure—he's still holding her by her hands, but now he's pulled them from beneath her body and between her legs, using it as a sling to hold her hips up.
"Ah..." Yunjin gasps breathlessly as he starts thrusting again. She tries to squirm and turn her head, to lift herself off the bed with pure core strength, but he simply pulls on her arms, forcing her head back to the bed with the see-saw action. She could touch her clit in the position, and Yunjin does so, adding a familiar pleasure to the more foreign pleasure of being fucked so thoroughly.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asks when Yunjin recovers from another orgasm, and she can only whimper and nod, rubbing her face on the bedsheet. "Do you want me to get rougher?" She nods again, and in short order he has her screaming—he plants a foot on the bed and grabs her by the hips, and the new position allows him to fuck her even more powerfully at an even better angle. Yunjin was getting fucked earlier, now she's just getting dicked down and loving it.
"Nnnngh! Oh my god, oh my god!" She has to bite the sheets in both pain and pleasure—her throat is sore from the "blowjob" earlier, her arms are sore from his yanking and pulling, and without a doubt her pussy is going to be sore with how hard he's going to town on her, but Yunjin would not have it any other way. Her head spins as a large hand pushes her deeper into the bed, and then—
Without any warning beyond a grunt, he simply sinks his cock all the way into her and explodes, filling her womb with potent DNA shrapnel. Each send of his hips sends even more cum into her, claiming more and more of Yunjin's pussy. She can only moan when she feels liquid trailing down her thighs—he's overflowing out of her!
"Y-You came so much..." Yunjin gasps, but he isn't remotely done with her. She finds herself on her back, and her fingers in her own pussy as he pushes them in.
"Clean yourself out before I fuck you again."
"W-What?! W-Wait!" Yunjin whimpers in overstimulation as four fingers are shoved into her, digging his load out from inside. Through thick and thin fingers does his load spill out from her, and the flow does not cease—so copious and thick is his seed that she finds herself on the verge of climax again just trying to get all of it out. "W-Why do you need to get it out? Nngh!"
"I don't want any sloppy seconds."
But it's your cum! Yunjin wants to cry out, yet it comes out as a wordless shout when he makes her clench again in orgasm, both his and her fingers fucking her roughly, forcing Yunjin to push his load out. What an image she makes right now—she lays sprawled out on the bed, fingers plunged deep in her own cum-filled snatch. It's no wonder he's hard again by the time Yunjin manages to piece a thought together. He rubs his tip against her messy and gooey entrance, and to Yunjin's shock he aims below her slit, lifting her legs slightly.
"I'm going to fuck your ass." A chill runs down her spine—whatever she had been looking for from him, it definitely wasn't that.
"N-No wait, not there!" Without responding he brings two fingers to her slit, gathering her slick and his cum before smearing it around her puckered ring. "Please, not there, I don't want it there!"
"What's your safeword then?" Her blood runs cold when she realizes her folly—she told him she didn't need one, and told him there were no limits! And now he's lubing her up, spreading her cheeks!
"No, please don't!" No no no no no no no! But he is unbudging, ignoring her pleas and making a show of prepping his thrusts. Once, then a second time does his cock seem to bump around her ass, as if "missing" his target. He makes a show of pulling his hips back, and Yunjin braces for losing her anal cherry—she could have pushed him off, or kicked him away earlier, but with his hands pinning her arms down her mind is going blank, and her hands grip the sheets, eyes tightly shut as she prepares for the pain. She can only manage one final whimper.
"Please—"
His cock sheathes inside her pussy with a smooth thrust, and for the first time ever Yunjin cums on the initial penetration. The relief and sudden pleasure instead of pain mix blissfully in Yunjin's head, and her legs wrap around his hips as she cums, locking him in, afraid he would actually take her ass if he pulls out again.
"And that's why we have safewords." He whispers in her ear, nibbling on her ear lobe and earning himself a whimper of "You're right." He unwraps Yunjin's legs from behind him and puts her in a mating press, hooking her knees with his elbows. Regardless of the position he chooses Yunjin is powerless, limp with pleasure as he begins plowing her again, stretching her sore pussy even more. For a brief moment Yunjin watches him, his hair mess and ruffled, wolfish... 
Wolfish? 
She's reminded of the fanfics she's read on her lonely nights, about alphas and omegas. She has no idea if he's ever read anything like that, or even aware of that concept, but he sure is fucking her like an alpha, and for her part, from the way she's yelping, she might as well be an omega in heat, her pussy molded in the shape of his cock. He kisses her, tongue demanding Yunjin's own tongue in return. The kiss is so intense, so ferocious, that Yunjin's head begins to spin, beginning to run out of breath. To the kiss he adds an unexpected move—with a hand he pinches Yunjin's nose, and between his kiss, the pinch, and the absolute pounding he's still able to give her, she starts to panic once more, quickly running out of oxygen, each jolt of her body unable to give her the air she needs.
"Mm, mm!" She grabs his shoulder, trying to tap him weakly, but her grip is loosening by the second, her consciousness fading. Her eyes open, and he has a lupine grin on his face—he might actually fuck her to death. He pulls away and says something, but she can only read his lips before she combusts.
Cum.
Yunjin's eyes roll into her head, the chemicals rushing her brain as oxygen flows back into her lungs. Yet again the mix of relief and pleasure is intoxicating, and her mouth hangs open, silently screaming as she squirts around him again. She jerks uselessly below him, her pussy contracting around his cock her only grip on reality anymore. Her limbs feel like jelly, and she has to whine and whimper to get him to throw her arms around his neck and hug her. Between the choking, the squirting, the threat of anal, and then the simultaneous kissing and choking and squirting she just went through earlier, Yunjin's brain is mush, intrusive thoughts entering and taking root. As far as she is concerned he is her alpha, and her lizard brain submits to him—if he wanted to take her ass now she wouldn't say no. But Yunjin wants something more.
"What is it?" his growl cuts through her orgasm-induced brain fog.
"Huh?"
"You've been mumbling, not moaning, spit it out." He thrusts harder, and Yunjin placates him by moaning—even now she doesn't want to reveal the depths to which her desires have descended to. The resistance is token though, and if her alpha wants to hear her needs, she would tell him. He asks her with his body, cock plunging in and out of her roughly; he actually wants to just hear her moan more, but Yunjin's omega-twisted mind treats it as delightful punishment, as if trying to make her speak, and the words begin tumbling out of her mouth.
"B-Breed... Breed me, please breed me." She finds his gaze, her eyes round and dilated, clouded with submissive lust. "Breed me like you own me." He slows down, and Yunjin immediately panics. "No, keep going, don't stop! Don't stop!"
"Say it again," he snarls, his voice low and dangerous. Yunjin does what her alpha wants.
"Breed me."
"The full thing, all of it." His next thrust is harder, and he pushes Yunjin's legs even further back, her ankles now near her ears. Later she would reflect on how she's normally not this flexible, but if he can fuck the kinks into her, maybe he's fucking the flexibility into her as well.
"Breed me like I belong to you."
"Louder!"
"Breed me like I'm your BITCH!" The last word is a shriek as he thumps solidly against her cervix. Yunjin's alpha leans over her, allowing him to pound straight down into her creamy warmth. Her ankles hook around his neck as Yunjin's folded in half, and she screams out in delirious joy at being ferociously, if not brutally, mated. Over and over he slams straight down into her, until he latches his mouth to her neck and sucks on her skin hard, marking her while he pumps her full of seed. The warm explosion rips through her womb and goes straight to her feral brain, and Yunjin cums with him one final time, scratching deep red lines on his arms and back, all while shredding her vocal cords as she lets loose her loudest cry yet. 
"YES YES YES YESSSSS!"
The silence after is deafening, and Yunjin's world goes fuzzy and fades to black.
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She wakes up late next morning, her body blissfully sore from the night before. Every muscle in her body felt like it was on fire, but the fire in her belly had been quenched, and Yunjin nestles into the bed a little bit more until reality finally calls in the form of her manager looking for her. She comes up with a flimsy excuse, but she knows she has to get up. Disappointingly Somi's boyfriend is nowhere to be found, and after Yunjin showers and dresses again, groaning the whole time in soreness, she finds what he left her on the desk.
I hope I was of help to you. I greatly enjoyed last night, and hope you did too.
P.S. Just in case
Where the hell did Somi find a guy like that? Yunjin thinks to herself. How can he be so polite, so considerate (Her clothes were folded in a neat pile on the couch!) after fucking her brains out last night? Regardless Yunjin feels a small amount of pride, knowing that he had enjoyed last night too. She also finds the morning-after pills he had left next to the note. Intrusive thoughts from last night still linger in her head—unbeknownst to him, the date he had picked, last night, was actually one of her more fertile days, and a primal part of her wants to flush the pills down the toilet and let things take their natural course, to let her alpha breed her. Yunjin's hand travels to her neck, feeling where he had shoved his cock down her throat and then choked her... God even that mere thought is enough to warm her body, and her hand drifts down her belly.
But no, it's a new day, and Yunjin claps her hands to her face, trying to clear her head. She takes the pills and washes it down with a glass of water. And with that, the fire in her womb is satiated.
For now.
A/N: Le Sserafim's song titles are too fun to play around with lol, they all can be made to sound kinda dirty XD So have more of Yunjin, thanks for reading!
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hoshigray · 1 year
Note
Hiya tojis darling ;)
I wonder if you can do this request but if not. Completely fine
wedding night with sexually frustrated toji. Reader is virgin.
Hello, krystal~ :D Been a while since you last requested, hope you're everything on your end is going okay! Lol, yes, I am indeed Toji's darling, currently watching TV with him as we speak~ Omg, I love this idea sm, hope I did justice with this one! Tysm for the request, nice to see you again~☆
Also, if you're reading this, know I'm currently away from this app for the week as I'm out on a trip with my close buds!! I'll still be writing when I get the time, so feel free to drop by my inbox as it'll still be open :3 Also also, I recently got to 1.8k followers!?!?? Sending hearts to y'all :D maybe we'll celebrate at 2k? I'll think about it while I'm gone...Anywho, plz enjoy this~
Cw: Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - soft one minute, then immediate smut, my bad haha - kissing/makeout session in a car; PDA (ig??) - Daddy kink - sex in a hotel room - oral (f! receiving) - missionary position - overstimulation - praise - biting (Toji nibble on your ear)- pet names (baby, darlin', cutie, good girl, mama, sweetie) - clitoral play (licking, sucking, and rubbing) - Toji being a good hubby for your first time, but still a menace - mentions of handjobs, blowjobs, and drool. Wc: 2.7k
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"So? You feeling excited~?"
"Umm, I guess so? More like a bit scared..."
"Hehe, I get that. Shit, I'd be nervous, too, starting my honeymoon off with that hunk of a man...Oop! Speaking of, here he comes now..."
You watch your best friend, Utahime, poke to the side with their chin, and you turn to see the direction they pointed to. Tonight was the night of your wedding; the boisterous atmosphere by your guests was still alive and well but will soon wane by the second as the moment you've been anxious about has finally come. You're about to walk out of the venue to the SUV, waiting for you to head to the airport. But before you could do that, someone else had to accompany you. Your groom, the man you married today, walked towards you.
The day you'd see yourself get married to Toji Fushiguro was a day you couldn't foresee. Even after a long while being in a committed relationship with the older man, it's still hard to believe that he proposed to you on your birthday a year and a half ago. Five years of loving and being patient together all led to this moment, and it still baffles you that you are no longer a girlfriend — but a wife. And he, your husband.
Now that the party is coming to a close and pictures are almost finished taken, Toji approaches you outside his wedding attire. Finished changing out of his wedding tux, now substituted with a black turtleneck and dark jeans, a silver chain decorating around his neck. He surveys your changed appearance, your stunning white dress replaced with a comfortable yet elegant jumpsuit that compliments your beautiful skin and figure. He gives you a grin, and your heart swoons. "Lookin' gorgeous, baby."
Your cheeks grow warm, averting your eyes somewhere away from your handsome spouse. "Thank you...you too."
"Awww, look at you being all shy!" Utahime pokes fun at you, snickering to themself when she sees you glare at them. "You better be good to this one, Toji. They just might faint if you look their way~."
The man chuckles at the comment. "Maybe that's what I'm hopin' for, now that I got 'em all to myself." He then moves closer to pull you by the shoulder, your body rigid being towed to his chest, and you just know your friend has a stupid look of glee from the display of affection. "Ready?"
You incline to face him and give a meek nod. He kisses your cheek with a smirk, and Utahime squeals before heading to the front door in front of you. Busting it open to showcase the crowd awaiting your arrival, you two walk down in unison as the guests cheer for the newly wedded couple.
As you make it down the aisle, you look around and share smiles with the familiar faces that came and had fun at your wedding until the blazing sun was replaced with the happy moon. Friends and family clapping their hands to you and your husband, wishing and shouting praises and good luck for the two of you. You saw Mei Mei blowing kisses your way, Gojo lifting his shades to wink at you, and your college buddies chanting your name with your relatives.
On the other side, you could make out Shiu Kong in the far back, taking out the cigarette between his lips and waving goodbye to you and his friend. Geto stands at the front, smiling while his two daughters yell, "Congratulations!!" as you descend. And at the end stands Nanami with a small smile, and beside him are Toji's children. Tsumiki, your pretty flower girl, comes to give you a hug. Megumi, the once stoic ring bearer, followed his sister to do the same.
You return the embrace to the kids, telling them to promise to be good until you return and proceed to walk into the backseat of the car. Toji closes your door and walks to the other side to take his seat, and a roar of applause and cheers erupts when the vehicle drives out of the scene. A tremendous wave of tranquility washes over you now that you're away from the gathering; the wedding is officially over.
However, after you release a long sigh and rest your eyes with shut eyelids, you hear the sound of a seatbelt unbuckling and something — or someone — moving closer to you. And a pair of lips on your neck has you snap your eyes back open.
"T-Toji!" You yell at him in a hushed tone, taking note of the driver in front of your seat. "Not here, wait til we're at—"
"I know, sweetie, I know," he says but resumes arranging your neck and clavicle with kisses. "You just look so fuckin' beautiful; can't a guy have a small piece of his wife before then?" As if you could give him a proper answer before he brings his lips onto yours, your moans taken by him while he sucks and nibbles on your bottom lip.
You grab his turtleneck as you try to suppress the whimpers from airing out, not wanting the driver to hear what's happening in his car (although he's secretly listening to his own music with his earphones). But when Toji's hand snakes down to your butt and gives it a squeeze, you squeak. "Toji!" you whisper shout at him again, and all you're given is a snicker from the sly bastard you're stuck with.
"Shhhhh, lemme have you fr' just a second." Your tiny glare fuels his hunger more, taking your lips once more. And he toys with you throughout the ride to the airport. Such a liar!! You cursed, but this moment was bound to happen.
Despite spending many years together, how you've managed to still be a virgin is still a mystery even to you. You never thought so much about letting your virginity go, so you treated it as something sacred that you only wished to give to the right person. However, when the right person came through, you realized you still weren't ready to let it go. Bless your lucky stars, though, that your [former] boyfriend opted to wait for you, even when you said that it would probably happen when you two get married. You thanked the heavens for having such a patient man, as it showed how much he loved and treasured you.
...But having such a patient, attractive, and brawny man in your life for so long was not an easy task on your part. There have been moments when you'd fantasize about the fateful day Toji would deflower you, so much so there were nights your fantasies took the best of you, and your fingers slithered down the hem of your panties. Or the days when your eyes would linger on his strong, muscular body for too long before your face would feel as hot as the sun, and you'd want to melt on the spot when Toji catches you glancing, a giant smirk plastered on his face. Or times when he'd be too horny, and you'd offer to help him with his erections. Your blowjobs and handjobs would do more bad than good for both of you. Because Toji's desire for you increased day by day.
So ever since you walked down that aisle, you knew your eventual doom was coming to get you. Even when you two fly on your honeymoon, you sense his patience dwindle by the hours. And once you make it to the enchanting luxury suite, he finally snaps. Hoisting you up bridal style and storming right to the bed, clothes discarded to the floor, and lights dimmed to a softer glow.
"Ahhhnn!! Ahhaaa!! Tojiii!! It's too much!! Too mu—Mmnaaah!" He's now between your thighs, your legs propped up by his strong hands and cunt coated with your wetness out for him to see. Your cries are ignored by the obdurate older man, who flicks your clit with his tongue.
"I know, , but gotta have you right fr' me." He coos, chaste kisses set on your inner thighs. "Don't wan' break my baby on their first night." His words meant out for comfort, yet contrasted with the raunchy, lewd noises he was making on your slit. Licking and sucking on your moist folds, teeth grazing your sensitive vulva while his tongue satiates his thirst with your slick. His nose bumping into your clitoris in the midst of it all has you gripping the shits beneath you.
Tears prickle the ends of your shut eyes, your face hot like the air in the room, and your body sweaty and shivering from being in this position for about fifteen minutes. Toji said that the best thing for you was to have him tease and get your body ready. Nevertheless, had you known that you'd have the man eating you out nonstop like this, you would've prepped yourself better! It's so bad that your head pounds, his wet muscle attacking your chasm precisely to the point of your mind being stuck in a haze. No wonder you're constantly jolting, and your legs won't stop shaking — you've come three times already!!
"Hey, mama," you hear him call you, but you can't format a functional sentence now. You respond with gibberish you hope he can make sense of. "Say my name, and I'll let ya cum."
"T...Toji—Eeeyaahh!" He sucks on your clit with vigor; you could've sworn you almost choked on a gasp.
"Aht aht, the other one." Emerald eyes examine your direction.
You bite your lip at the patronizing tone of his voice. You know what he's referring to; it's just too embarrassing to say. For the sake of putting an end to this pleasurable hell and getting what you really want, however, your tongue burns at what you say next.
"Mmmm, please, Daddy...Please, let me cum. I want it!" You whine with hooded eyes looking down at him, and his devilish grin almost makes you melt. Without saying another word, his mouth returns to your leaky cunt. But this time, he brings a. hand down south, and his fingers rub rough circles on your delicate bud, the two sensations shocking your body into an experience you've never experienced before.
It's only a matter of seconds that you come right then and there, your body jerking and legs quivering in sync with your walls clamping onto nothing. And your cries don't stop there, more wails fill the room as Toji drinks your creamy substance for the fourth time that night. His tongue protruded into your spongey core and roughly licked on its tender nerves.
You appreciate the moment he lets you rest for a few seconds after removing his mouth from you, your shivering body slowly calming down to a stable state. You feel so sticky and dirty with the mess between your legs, coated with come and spit. So vulgar to even think about it that your ears ring.
Toji licks his lips of your wetness, "Did s' good fr' me, mama. Such a good girl fr' Daddy." He then stations your legs around his waist, and you peer down to watch him align his erect cock to your entrance. "Ready, cutie? Gonna need ya' to take some deep breaths fr' me, okay?" You nod and follow his instructions. The head of his cock pushes to you with every exhale, and your eyes automatically sew shut when his girth bullying your entrance brings in pain. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into tan skin as you fight the discomfort.
But it all slowly vanishes once the tip slides in, a sharp cry escaping you. More whimpers and choked sobs fly out when he gradually pushes his length into you, tears striking down as his girth stretches your insides.
"Mmmm, holy fuckin' shit," he curses under his breath. "You're so tight, baby." You can only hum as a reply before his hips start moving at a slow cadence. The feeling of his dick between your walls is hard to comprehend. It's finally happened; you're no longer a virgin. So full of him inside you, unable to put into words the feeling you're experiencing right now.
It takes every part of his being for Toji to keep his ruts to a slow pace. He knows this is a big moment for you — it's necessary that you don't get too overwhelmed by him, or else something could go completely wrong. And he wouldn't want that for you. Despite that, a part of him really wants to relish your body. Five years of waiting for you to be ready for him. Five years of fighting the urge to pin you down and have you to himself. Five years of desire all crumble down for this exact moment. Now, when he finally has you for himself and no one else, the patience that was once there converts into that of pure lust.
His hips increase speed, and your hands cling onto him for dear life. The walls of your chasm clamp into him even harder, and your legs wrap around him, Toji groaning at your grip on him. He snickers through gritted teeth, "Jesus Christ, mama, y'r tryin' to snap my dick off? I'm not goin' nowhere." He coos while wiping tears from your eyes.
You open your mouth to say something, but all that leaves your mouth is a scream when he slams his pelvis into your cunt. The action has you arch your back toward him, his length brushing up on the sweet spots that you never considered were there. More mewls bounce off the walls of the suite as his thrusts recur with a vigorous rhythm.
"Daddy, I'm, Oh Jesus—Aiishhhh!!" You hiss out for him, eyes rolling back when he grinds his pelvis on your messy vulva. Squelching noises burn your ears. "I'm gonna cum, Daddy, I wanna cum!"
"Hnngh!! Yeah, sweetie, think y'r gonna cum?" He draws down closer for his lips to be dangerously close to your ear. Your slit clutching hard on his dick. "Wanna cum on Daddy's dick like a good girl?"
"Yes, yessss! Please, I want it!!" You wail out, no regard to how loud your voice is right now. All you want is your orgasm.
Toji's chuckle is too close to your eardrums. You squirm under him, and he playfully bites the lobe of your ears. "Go 'head, darlin'. Make a real mess on me, ya hear?" He kisses you lovingly while his hips snap at you at an erratic tempo, prompting uncontrollable moans to enter the air against your will. With every rut is an abrasive hit to the tender spots within you, and your clit doesn't go unnoticed when he brings his hand back down to play with it, grinding on the pearl rough with his calloused forefinger. And it's thanks to this that your fifth release comes to you in mere seconds.
Your husband tries to rut out more deep thrusts into you and plunge into you a while longer. But it's to no avail when your cunt flutters on his cock deliciously, forcing him to succumb to an orgasm of his own. Moans are exchanged between your mouths, and your bodies experience the aftershocks together.
And when the two of you enter a halcyon state with the quiet room, Toji frees your lips off his and wipes your pretty face off of tears and drool. "So," he kisses your cheeks. "How ya feelin'? Like a new person?"
"...I don't think I can feel my vagina anymore." You say aimlessly, happy to know your drained self has the older man laughing.
"Sorry 'bout that, mama." He brings his lips to your forehead. "Be lucky I'm tired from that wedding and flight. Otherwise, I'd be fuckin' the shit out of you all night." He snickers at your helpless expression, shaking your head at such a fantasy. There's all the time in your honeymoon for that.
You use whatever strength you have left to bring your hands to his face to cup. "Thank you for sparing me, my lovely husband."
Toji hums with a smile, the scar on the right of his lip lifted. And he kisses you until fatigue takes over you both, sleep being the only thing that shuts you from the outside world. The warmth of your embrace and the connection of your bodies are proof of the start of your newlywedded life.
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