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#but now it’s too late and she’s in bed and I need her to enjoy her time because she needs that
surielstea · 21 hours
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Territorial
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel was busy with work and Reader decided to go out alone, much to the males dismay
Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | pwp | 18+ | p in v | oral sex (m receiving) | shadow play | bondage | angry/passionate sex | cum inside | creeps at a bar | reader’s kinda ditsy but we love her
4.4k words
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"Az?" I call, peeking my head out the doorway. "Azriel?" I sing, padding down the hall when I don't hear him reply. I follow the golden tether connecting us to his office, only half-clothed with my unzipped dress dipping off my shoulders.
"Hey," I spot the male at his desk, eyes scanning over a form. He doesn't spare me a glance but replies with a quiet, "Hi."
"I called for you and you didn't answer," I take a few steps closer, leaning against his desk and holding the neckline of my dress up. "Yeah?" He mumbles as he continues writing, clearly not listening to what I am saying and filling the silence. "Can you help me?" I ask and he freezes, then finally turns to look at me, ears perking at the question. "The corset," I point to the back of my dress. "Ah," He nods but doesn't move from his seat.
Instead of his hands, it's shadows that move to my back, tightening around the strings and then pulling them tight. I frown slightly but don't move as I allow the darkness to tie the strings. When they're done they return to Azriel's side, swishing around like they were trying to get his attention too, but Azriel seemed busy.
We've been staying in the Hewn City for the past few days, Azriel had interrogations to see to, then paperwork, then more interrogations. So it was easier to stay in the Moonstone Palace for the time being.
My mate was busy quite often but he always made time for me, always. So what's so different now? It might've been shallow that I continued to hover at his side, waiting for him to give me some attention.
I watch what he's so intently writing, frowning at the way he didn't even spare me a second glance. "Take a break Az, we could go to the evening markets?" I suggest and it's like the words don't even reach his ears. "Or I could open a bottle of wine and we could cuddle in bed," I add in a light tune, running my hand down his arm.
It takes a few seconds for him to reply, for the words to even register. "Maybe another time," He brushed me off and my frown deepened. "I understand, sorry for bothering you," I grumbled, then left his office and closed the door with a particularly hard force.
I told him I understood, except I didn't. He worked for Rhysand, and of course, the High Lord is still his boss but if Azriel turned in an assignment a few hours late I doubted he'd get reprimanded in the slightest. If he was anyone else it'd be fine, but this is Azriel, the male who always makes time for me and never makes me feel like a burden.
But now I was standing in the hallway alone, and a little defeated.
I curse myself for being so sensitive and walk down the hall and into the kitchen. I open the door down to the wine cellar but before I can take the descent to the basement I realize I didn't want to drink alone. I sigh, closing the door.
It wasn't that I needed Azriel to be able to enjoy myself but he's got in my head, and now he's all I want.
I decided to pass the time by going to the evening markets on my own, he couldn't be mad at me for doing it by myself when I'd already offered to include him, right?
I scribbled down on a note that I was leaving and signed it with a heart before leaving through the front door without so much as a proper goodbye.
The evening markets were much different in the Hewn City than the ones in Velaris. Every vendor seemed to be trying to con or scam me.
I came across a cart, a skinny pale woman with thinning black hair stood behind the counter with dead eyes. I notice a young pair of twins huddling beside her long, ripped skirt.
She was selling gemstones. They were all fake, you could tell by the way they gleamed under the moonlight but that didn't make them any less beautiful. A specific blue stone caught my attention. I smile softly at the woman and give her my entire pouch of gold marks, enough for a month's worth of food if spent right. She begins shuffling through the coins and only takes what's owed out as I pluck the sapphire up.
"No, keep all of it," I brush her off with a wave of my hand. Her eyes widen as she stares at me in shock. I give her a kind smile. "Get them something nice," I gesture to the two girls the height of her waist. "Thank you," She bleats out and I nod with a gentle smile, pocketing the gem before waltzing away with a small pep in my step.
I come across another stand, this one with aisles of flowers leading towards the shopkeeper. I smile as I gaze at a bush of jasmine, the scent reminding me of Amren. I continue walking down the aisle, spotting moonflowers as big as my palm, and bouquets of chocolate daisies that somehow smelt like the enriching cocoa flavor I was so familiar with.
The clerk seemed busy so I didn't buy anything, just continued to walk until there was a snag at my skirt. My brows twitch and I look down to see one of the twin girls from earlier fisting the cloth in her hand. She doesn't say anything, just holds out a white rose. "For me?" I smile gently and she nods shyly.
I bend down and take the flower, breaking off all the thorns before reaching towards her and tucking the rose behind her ear. "There, beautiful," I compliment and she flushes pink. "Thank you," She whispers and my smile widens. "Thank you, too," I say, standing. She stared up at me in wonder. "Why don't you go snatch one for your sister as well?" I suggest and she nods before scurrying off back toward the flower market.
I turn on my heel, walking with my skirts in my hands as I continue my route down the dimly lit path, shops slowly dwindling away and mage lights flickering the further down the alley I go.
I grip the material of my skirt in my hands at the shift in the atmosphere, my steps speeding up, eager to get out of the eerie ambiance.
Hyena-like laughter echoes down the stretch of the brick road and my entire body tenses. I looked to where the sound had come from, three men sat on upside-down trashcans all talking amongst each other with shit-eating grins. It was rude to assume they were of any danger to me, but I was better off paranoid than ignorant.
I reach through my mental bond towards Azriel only to be met with unbreakable, obsidian walls. I frown, flattening my palms to the cold rock but it was entirely solid and I was locked out. I huff and thrust my own shields up, blocking him out too. Instead of passing by the three men, I step into the building at my left, a bar.
I enter the tavern with a slight panic in my step. I hadn't realized how safe Azriel made me feel until I no longer had his company.
The place was packed, every night in the Hewn City was a night for a drink, there were crowds but it was eerily quiet and I had eyes from every direction staring at me. I ignored the eyes and tried not to catch anyone's gaze as I walked towards the bar top, settling into an empty stool with torn leather that creaked when I put my weight on it.
A bartender immediately comes over to me and I order something light, only planning to pass the time here until I think Azriel learned his lesson and noticed that I didn't need him to have a good time. It was petty and something he probably already knew but I had to solidify that fact.
"What's a girl like you doing all the way out here?" A gravelly voice asked and I turned to the male beside me, his long, graying beard thick with what looked like food sprinkled throughout it. I fight back a grimace.
"A girl like me?" I arch a brow, not interested in telling him where I'm from. "Sure, the fancy clothes, shiny hair," He utters. "I bet that bracelet on your wrist costs more than my house," He scoffs. I look down at the bejeweled bracelet that I wear at a constant. "Well? How much?" He asks and I shrug. "It was a gift from my mate," I utter, not knowing the exact price— but with the amount of diamonds glinting on the piece of jewelry, the stranger wouldn't be far off with the estimate of his house.
"Mate?" He grunts and I nod. "Why aren't you with him now?" He demands, sticking his nose into my business. I nearly roll my eyes. What does it matter to him anyway? "He's working," I swing my legs back and forth. "And what's this male do for a livin' to be able to afford gifts like that?" He gestures to my wrist. "He's the Spymaster of the Night Court," I say, the male gulps down whatever fear bubbled up inside him at the title.
The bartender hands me my drink and I thank him with a gentle smile.
The stranger next to me turns away from me, instead going towards whatever poor girl is on the other side of him as I silently sip my sweet drink, swinging my legs back and forth as I gaze up at the ceiling, running my eyes along the cracks and crevices, attempting to think the way Azriel does, how he notices every single thing, analyzes every movement, every breath. I wish I could observe things like him, read him the way he reads me. I huff in defeat after growing bored from one minute of observing, instead sinking into my stool.
A few males throughout the night approach me but I tell them who my mate is and they immediately back off. I liked the idea of Azriel being so feared in places like this, how he had me blocked from his side of the bond and yet was still protecting me from every male who engaged.
There was a slight commotion behind me, mumbles and synchronized footsteps like everyone was rushing out of someone's way. I ignore it, keeping my eyes pinned to my half-full glass, debating on finishing it or just going home and cuddling up with a book, perhaps Azriel is done with work.
There's a sudden presence behind me, one that's vaguely familiar but nothing too keen. A hand comes down onto my shoulder and my spine straightens at the familarity. "For the last time, I have a mate—" I begin but then I feel shadows twining up my ankles, the scars on his hand, the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.
"I know," He started and I whipped around, wrapping my arms tightly around the back of his neck. "Az," I greet, and even if I was just annoyed with him, it felt refreshing to have his eyes on me again. "I just had the most wonderful evening," I say as he intertwines his hand with mine and pulls me from my stool. I follow, forgetting about my drink while Azriel pays the bartender with a bill too large for what I ordered.
"I wish you had come with," I say as he pulls me through the crowd, well it wasn't much of a crowd anymore, his wings gave him a large enough frame that groups had simply split in half to accommodate for him, me in tow as he guides me through the path.
"And I went to the markets and bought this pretty gem," I pull out the blue sapphire. "Remind me of your siphons, don't you think?" I hold it up in the moonlight. He looked at it and gave a dip of his head, his mind still reeling as he pulled me away from the alleyway while I continued blathering on. "And there were these twin girls who were so adorable, and later one of them gave me a flower—" I was cut off as I was completely consumed by a familiar darkness, Azriel's hand tightening on mine as he pulled us through the shadow realm, the real world seeming so bright in comparison.
"Az," I pause, looking around at our house as we land, standing in the center of our bedroom. Not in the Hewn City, but Velaris. He had taken us all the way home. "What are we doing here? Did you finish your assignments?" I say, striding up to him and realizing only now that he had yet to say anything this entire time since the bar, I've just been prattling on about my evening while he only nodded, which was typical but, it felt different, there was something cold about him.
"Azriel? You okay?" I reach up towards his face but he catches my wrist before I can make contact. "Do you know how worried I was about you?" His tone is warm but there's a certain deathly flicker in his eyes that sent a chilling shiver down my spine. "There was nothing to be worried about," I mutter, pulling at my wrist but his hold doesn't yield. "You believe that?" He arches a brow but I was too undermined to nod.
"Love," He sighs, his hold loosens and I'm met with relief. "Do you know how many people in that court want me dead?" He tilts his head and I swallow thickly, I hated thinking about stuff like that and he knew it. "How many people want to hurt me the way I've hurt them?" He adds and all I can do is shake my head no.
"I need you to understand the only way to hurt me is by hurting you, make sense?" His hand comes to my cheek, angling my head to look up at him. I meet his stare and nod bashfully.
"I do understand, but, I’m fine," I argue. "I can handle myself, I promise I was safe," I stress and his gaze hardens yet again, now I've done it.
"I know you can handle yourself, but, just let me protect you," He sighs. "Why? I don't need your protection— in fact, you had me blocked out all night, so if I did need you, you wouldn't have even been able to save me," I express and he bristles. I shouldn't have said it, I know it'd hit him where it hurt but, gods, I was so sick of feeling so dependent, like I relied on him every waking hour since we mated.
Azriel never shouted, barely ever raised his voice. But when he did, he was a different male. Animalistic and feral, and entirely uncaged. Some sick part of me found it insanely attractive. His power was so immense I couldn't help but let it turn me on, shadows flooding the room as a vein bulged at his neck as he explained why I need to be more careful when on my own, but I was barely listening to his words, just his voice, his passion. The spine-shivering tone reaches the wrong parts of my body and leaves me clenching my legs, staring up at him helplessly as the smell of my arousal becomes apparent and he shutters, his words halting as he stares at me.
"Are you fucking serious?" He scoffs and I look down at the floor with a bright flush, attempting to hide what's already known. He takes a menacing step closer, hand coming to my chin and tilting my face up dauntingly slow, I avoid his gaze. "Look at me," He snaps and I do as he says immediately, eyes staring up into his, that familiar hazel analyzing every part of me like it always did. "You like it when I yell at you?" He asked and I swallowed thickly. "Answer me, love," He says, hand tightening on my jaw and I nod with creased brows. "Yes," I confess and I could already tell my panties were a mess.
"You gonna be a good girl and take your punishment?" He tilts his head and my pussy throbs in anticipation at the promise of discipline. Again, I nod. "Yeah? On your knees then," He commands and I waste no time before dropping onto the floor before him, staring up at him with shiny, wide eyes. "Open," He says and I part my lips, tongue lulling out. Two of his fingers immediately plunge down my throat while his other hand works at the ties of his pants. I move my own hands up, attempting to offer assistance but shadows are quick to twine around my wrists and pin them useless behind my back.
I close my lips around his hand, sucking on the two long, thick, and calloused fingers. I dip my tongue between them, coating them in my saliva as he curls them into the back of my throat, forcing me to gag on them, loving the sight of my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
He gets his pants down and his cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard and leaking pre-cum, his tip red and angry. I whimpered at the sight of it as he removed his fingers from my mouth, using my saliva to further lube himself for easier entrance. He strokes himself once, then another. "Please," I rasp out, needy for his cock. He knew just how badly I needed him inside of me.
He continues pumping his cock just in front of my lips, groaning out at the intense feeling of his hand. "Open," He repeats and again, I obey. The head of his cock slaps onto the flat of my tongue and I nearly moan at the salty taste of him, tears brimming the edge of my eyes as I run my tongue up and down the underside of his member, tracing the bulging vein.
I pulled at the restraints on my hands, whining in need of more as I suck on the head of him, swirling my tongue around his tip and pressing my tongue to the sensitive slit as he grunted in pleasure.
His hand finds the back of my head, gripping my hair roughly as moans slip from me. "Three taps, remember?" He asks and I nod urgently, remembering the safe code in case he went too far, but I knew I wouldn't be using that any time tonight.
He then thrust all of his length down my throat and I gagged on him, adjusting to his size of him was impossible as he continued to abuse my mouth, tears now free-falling onto my cheeks as his other hand found my neck, squeezing occasionally when I choked on him.
I struggled to breathe as he continued to pummel into my parted lips, his head tilted back in pure ecstasy as I sucked on him hard, bobbing my head. "Gods, you suck me off so good," He praised and I rub my thighs together for any form of friction but nothing could compare to his cock. I seal my lips around his base, jerking my head as I swirl my tongue underneath his cock, drinking every drop of his pre-cum, savoring the taste and eager for more but as he twitches he pulls away from my mouth, keeping himself from crossing that fine line of release. I cry out a whine, wanting the salty taste of him on my tongue now.
"Please, Az," I sob but he ignores the whine. "Get up, on the bed," He nodded his head toward the mattress as I rose from my knees, my wrists unbinding and allowing me to crawl up towards the pillows with shaky limbs. I go to turn around to face him but he stuffs my face into the pillow before I get the chance. My back bows as I struggle to breathe and his hold ceases, allowing me to lift only slightly from the bed. His hands come to the curve of my ass, my dress pushed up by shadows. He doesn't even bother with the ties of my corset and instead tears me free from the material, shredding the gown into pieces and discarding it onto the floor. I whimper as my panties follow without any other foreplay, the cold air breezing against my soaked cunt.
"Count five then I'll let you have what you want, okay?" His hands grope at my ass and I rise onto my elbows, my back arching up into his as he leans over me. I nod with a needy moan, reveling in the feeling of his scars on my skin.
His hand rises then comes down onto my ass, a loud smacking sound filling the room, my mewls quickly following. "One," I gripe, clenching the sheets in my fists as he gives me the second one, harder, the sting lingering and sending shockwaves up my spine. I stuff my face into the pillows as I call the number, so caught up in the pleasure of it all.
His third strike is joined with a cold shadow brushing against the apex of my thighs and I scream at the friction, the neglecting had grown so strong that I could feel myself dripping down my thighs, sopping wet for him. On the fourth smack, the shadows return, this time to stay, swirling around that familiar bundle of nerves and all thoughts leave me, completely consumed by the pleasure of it all. "What number was that?" He purrs beside my ear and I shutter. "Fuck— I, I don't know," I whine. "Oh c'mon, think hard you can do it," He directs, trailing kisses up the side of my ear but it was impossible to think about anything but those damned shadows circling my clit.
"Four," I reply with a hopeful lift to my voice. "Good, such a good girl," He hums, kissing just below my ear before landing one final slap to my ass, the skin red and stinging in pure pain, and I doubt I had ever been more turned on.
"You want me inside baby?" He asked with barely anytime for me to recover, biting at my earlobe as I cry out my reply, "Shit, Az please."
I feel the head of his cock press against my folds a beat later, lathering himself in my fluids as I clench around nothing, legs jolting as I arch up higher for easier entrance, showing just how much I wanted him.
His tip aligns with my entrance and I beg for him, for every inch of him. "Need you, please," My voice shakes and he rises from behind me, his hands coming down onto my thighs, gripping them tightly. Shadows pin my legs to the bed, restricting me from moving as his tip enters me only slightly. "Don't move," He commanded and I nodded, then he thrust all of him inside of me and I felt like I split in half.
I screamed, clawing at the sheets at the intense pain yet pleasure that quickly followed. My brows knot as his base slaps against mine and without much adjustment he begins to pound his length into me, pulling strings of moans from the base of my throat. "Fuck, you feel so perfect wrapped around my cock," He sighed out, head tilting back in pure relief, continuing to pummel into me with an unrelenting force.
"You ever g'na leave without me again?" He asks in a cold voice and I shake my head no. "Use your words," He tells, and my back bows at the tone of his voice, so fucking demanding. "No, never Az," I swallow the lump in my throat. "That's right, 'cause who do you belong to?" He asks, his lips on my neck. "You, all yours," I manage to say, words not coming easy as I was too distracted by the feeling of him thrusting up to what felt like my ribs. I moan his name loudly, head hanging low into the pillows as I arch, pushing further onto his cock, his tight balls slapping against my folds while he twitches against my sensitive walls, shadows coming to contact with my clit and doubling the amount of pleasure.
"Az I can't, I can't take any more," I rasp out as he places sloppy kisses on my shoulder, biting and sucking and licking on any bare skin he could get his mouth on. "You will though, won't you?" He said and I couldn't help but agree with him, knowing it'd feel close to death if he pulled out now.
The tip of his cock brushed over my most sensitive area and I shout in euphoric pain. He smirks against my skin and continues to toy with the area, easily hitting that deep place inside of me, molding me to him, stretching my walls to fit his cock and his alone.
Marking me like territory.
"Az, I'm gonna cum— I can't," I struggle to breathe at how tight my lungs felt, the knot in the pit of my stomach threatening to snap any second now. "Go ahead baby, make a mess all over my cock," He allows and his shadows pinch my clit, forcing me into that orgasmic high.
Warmth blooms in my hips as I find release, tears falling down onto the pillows as my legs shake in pure relief, pleasure racking through me like a wave of ecstasy.
His release followed mine, as I clenched around him from my high it forced him into spilling out his warm seed into my cunt, painting my walls white and making me his entirely. "Fuck," He grunts out. "You did good baby," He whispered softly, pecking my tear-stained cheek while slowly pulling out, his cum flowing out of me and down my thighs as I slump down onto the bed, exhausted.
"No sleeping yet, I won't be able to live with myself if you don't get proper aftercare," He ushered me out of the bed as I sat up with a whine. He smiles softly then picks me up, carrying me princess-style towards the bathroom. I marvel at how easily he switched personalities, shifting between Azriel and the Spymaster so easily.
"Alright pretty girl, let's get you cleaned up."
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1d1195 · 3 days
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Neighbors Extra V
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Read Neighbors here | ~2.5k words
From me: based on this ask. Takes place probably in between Part 5 and Extra I
Warnings: a little angsty, a little fluffy, enjoy 💕
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It was the stretch of bad weather that did it. Played a trick on his mind. It hurt to think about those weeks without his favorite people. He knew what bad weather could do to people and he knew how it could affect him. It was weird, the night before he rather enjoyed the sound of rain against the window, the slight chill in the air contrasted with the warmth coming off her from the bed. Now it seemed like a curse.
“Harry?” Rory called, hearing the thunder in the middle of the night. It made his heart ache to know Rory called Harry’s name and not for Mumma the way he usually did. Harry rolled out of bed pressing a swift kiss to her forehead despite his negativity settling into the pit of his stomach. He made his way for Rory’s room. He forgot about the frustration he felt about her and the weeks that she chose to separate them. Rory needed him.
“S’matter, lad?” Harry asked sitting on the end of his bed. There was relief in his eyes that was visible in the low light of his nightlight. That relief made Harry’s heart clench. He put his hand on his leg atop the covers and squeezed his shin.
“Is... is Mumma scared?” He asked softly.
Harry tilted his head curiously. “Mummy’s sleeping,” he assured him.
“Oh... um...” Rory was so little looking in his bed. “Mumma gets scared with thunder sometimes,” he explained. “I usually go sleep with her to keep her safe.”
Harry blamed the lateness of the hour for his slow-moving brain cells and not understanding what Rory was trying to tell him faster. “Oh?” He nodded. “I see. Well, do y’want t’come check on her?” He asked standing beside his bed and pulling the covers back.
He nodded eagerly; it was punctuated by a crack of thunder that practically shook the house. His eyes widened with fear while trying to be brave. After his little hospital stay, Harry noted how nervous Rory seemed sometimes—especially when it came to his mum and making sure she wasn’t nervous too. “That was scary,” Harry admitted and scooped Rory into his arms quickly, tucking his head against his shoulder.
“You’re scared of thunder?” He asked incredulously but didn't move his face from Harry's neck.
“Isn’t everyone?” Harry smirked without Rory seeing. “Y'know that Mummy is, me...s'like you’re the bravest one of us."
Rory squirmed a bit in Harry’s arms--like the weight of his phobia and subsequent fake-bravery was too much for him. “I think I’m a little afraid of thunder,” he whispered to Harry. Harry nodded and squeezed him.
“S’okay. S’brave of you t’want t’check on Mummy anyway.”
“I didn’t know if I was allowed to,” he admitted.
“Allowed?” Harry repeated.
“Because Mumma has you now.”
Harry didn’t want to have this conversation in the middle of the night. Not when he was feeling frustrated with the love of his life’s actions. Not when the weather was souring his mood. Not when Rory felt scared, and he didn’t know how to fix it completely.
“Rory,” Harry sighed stopping outside the bedroom. “Mummy and I are always going t’need you,” he promised. “You don’t have t’change how y’do things because m’here,” he pressed his lips against the little one’s forehead.
"Okay," he nodded.
Harry smiled at him again, ran his hand through his hair comfortingly before he headed back in the bedroom. He knelt on the bed and deposited Rory in the middle. She hadn’t moved. Probably tired from being perfect all day, Harry presumed. Rory nestled into the middle of the bed and Harry smiled softly, feeling more tired, thankfully, than when he woke up. His mind didn’t need to reel with more feelings of frustration before he fell back asleep. “Night, Harry,” Rory whispered.
Harry smiled as he drifted off. “Night Rory.”
*
The rainy night turned into a rainy day. Harry was quiet. She noticed it immediately. When she woke up with the help of her internal clock at six-thirty, she realized Rory’s little face was staring back at her. She blinked in surprise, wondering when he got there. Harry’s hand was resting protectively on Rory’s little rib cage and her heart melted so thoroughly she thought she would cry.
Swallowing the emotion in her throat she snuck out of bed to start breakfast as Rory would surely wake up with the help of his own internal clock in about thirty minutes. The rain and dark clouds made her think of her trip to the hospital in the middle of the night, quickly she shook her head of those thoughts.
As if on cue, Harry and Rory descended the stairs as she poured juice for them. “Hi Mumma!” Rory smiled excitedly. Harry released him and he scurried over to hug her legs. She bent and kissed the top of his head before returning to the scrambled eggs on the stove.
“Hi love bug,” she grinned. “Did you sleep okay?”
Rory glanced back at Harry and nodded. “Harry said I was really brave about the thunder.”
She was surprised she didn’t wake to the sound of it and moreover the sound of Rory’s little worried voice because of it. She pursed her lips and glanced at Harry as well. “Yeah?” She asked quietly.
Harry nodded. He pressed a kiss to her temple and grabbed the three glasses of orange juice to settle on the table. “Rory was braver than I was,” he repeated. “He wanted t’make sure y’were sleeping okay. Because y’get scared in the thunderstorms sometimes.”
Her heart clenched with love for the little one. More for Harry for going along with every little detail and every insecurity Rory shared with him. She smiled and nodded. “Thanks, cutie pie,” she ruffled his hair as he held onto her leg still.
Harry sat at the table. Normally, she wouldn’t have paid much attention to the position, but he didn’t really look up from his phone. He didn’t look up when she said breakfast was almost ready—when he usually hopped up to get plates, silverware, etc. Rory followed over to Harry. Joined him by sitting right on his lap, Harry moving instinctively to hold him as they examined Harry’s phone.
“Honey, can you ask Harry if it’s okay first—he might be doing something for work or—”
“S’fine, kitten,” he mumbled, interrupting her without further explanation.
“It’s highlights from the soccer game,” Rory explained.
Biting her lip, she suddenly felt a bit intrusive. Quietly, she set plates in front of the pair and then ate her own food in near silence—save for the cheers and announcers coming from Harry’s phone. It felt odd to feel left out. For so long it had been her and Rory. Perhaps she was imagining it, but she swore Harry almost seemed... annoyed with her.
After Rory started playing on his own, she would ask. Or maybe when Rory went to sleep tonight.
For now, even if she was a bit anxious about Harry’s coldness toward her, she couldn’t help but adore how sweet Harry and Rory looked at the other end of the table. The same concentrated expression on their faces as they watched his phone screen. Her heart was so full it felt illegal to be that happy. Harry kissed the back of Rory’s head without fanfare, without thinking. His phone propped against the flower vase while he ate his breakfast with one hand.
Just as quietly, she snapped a picture of the pair of them. One to send to her family as well as his for sure.
*
Rory and Harry were nearly inseparable the whole day. It allowed her to get a lot of cleaning and laundry done that had been neglected since Rory couldn’t play in the yard with the unending rainy weather. In the late afternoon, Rory asked that they play a few rounds of Candyland. So, they did. Harry smiled at Rory the whole time and chuckled every time her turn brought her back to the Peppermint Forest when she was almost to the Candy Castle.
It almost felt mean spirited.
But the boys went to play again in Rory's room after Candyland. Harry even got Rory to take a bath without the usual argument that ensued when she did. Their little day spent together right under her nose made her a little jealous—although she wasn’t sure who she was jealous of when she thought about it. They paused to have leftovers for dinner (because it was Saturday, and that was their routine) While they played, she read some of her long-neglected book that was often set to the side for room to play with her son.
“Rory wants you t’say goodnight,” Harry said quietly as he flopped onto the couch grabbing the controller off the coffee table. She blinked, glanced at the clock along the wall of the dining area and shook her head at how rapidly the time had moved.
“It’s eight already?” She asked, mostly to herself. There was no arguing, no ‘one more story,’ not even a good night kiss as had happened many nights before when Harry put Rory to bed.
He nodded anyway, scrolling through movie and show options on Netflix without even looking at her. She eyed him suspiciously the entire time she ascended the stairs to Rory’s room. “Hi Mumma,” he grinned happily. He smelled clean and fresh. His room was tidy (thanks to Harry’s kind reminders as they played, she was sure). Rory was perfect. But she may have been a bit biased.
“Hi baby,” she smiled. “Did you have fun playing with Harry today?” She asked.
He nodded. “We played so much,” it was as if he realized it all on his own and how weird of a day it was to have a playdate right near her without hardly including her.
“You did,” she grinned and kissed his forehead. “I love you. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” She had said it to him since the day they met Harry and he had asked for clarification.
He grinned and rolled over sleepily. “I love you, too, Mumma,” he yawned. She turned his light off, ensuring the nightlight remained on. She closed the door and returned to the living room. Harry was unmoved; legs outstretched on the coffee table.
Harry shifted as she removed her book from the sofa and placed it beside Harry’s feet on the table. He was silent. Her discomfort amplified and she turned to him. “Are you...okay?” She asked. He nodded, still unspeaking. She bit the inside of her lip. “Uh...Harry, it really feels like—”
“It was really unfair,” he mumbled. His gaze was unmoving from the TV but he wasn’t watching.
“What was—”
“You just...stopped talking t’me. Y’didn’t tell me why. Rory had t’come t’me in secret t’invite me t’his game,” he reminded her. “I know why y’did,” he looked at her squarely for the first time all day. “But it hurt. And I never really got t’grieve it because you came back but it hurt,” he repeated. Her chest ached, feeling like he pierced a whole right through it.
“Harry,” she whispered, an apology forming.
He shook his head. “Y’don’t have t’say anything. S’over and m’not...” he sighed. “M’really not mad, kitten. M’not. S’jus’ the crummy weather made me think of it. Playing with Rory all day made me think ‘bout all those weeks I didn’t have with him. S’not fair and s’not anyone’s fault. M’jus... sad.”
Her heart felt shattered. “But—”
“You don’t have t’say anything.”
But she felt like she did. Harry resenting her felt like a very real possibility and it terrified her. “You’ll resent me.”
“Of course I won’t,” he turned to her with such fierceness in his eyes she felt as if the sun had finally broke the cloud barrier after their long weak of rain. “I know why y’did it. But m’sad about it,” he grabbed her hand. “I trust you that it won’t happen again,” he kissed her knuckles. “M’sorry I was cold today. I jus’ never got t’process or tell you how it felt.”
Well, if it was worse than this moment--and she was sure that it wasn’t even a fraction of the anguish and hurt Harry felt at the time--then she didn’t want to ever make him feel that way again. Didn’t want to experience it herself in any manner—even if Harry very much deserved to make her feel the way she made him feel.
“Harry,” she repeated. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. Tongue-tied, confused, and unsure. Things she rarely felt since she had Rory because she couldn't. “I... I don’t know how to—”
“Kitten,” he squeezed her hand. “M’not mad. M’not going t’hold it against you. But I needed to tell you, so I don’t.”
“Harry,” she felt like a broken record.
“Beautiful,” he echoed in the same tone. “M’not mad,” he promised.
She crawled across the couch, curled in his lap and nuzzled against him in a way that a grown woman had no business to do. Tears stung behind her eyes and her breath felt shallow in her lungs. “I was an idiot,” she whispered hoping it would ease the ache, the fear she felt of losing Harry when she had only started to have him.
“Oh, kitten,” he cooed. “Y’might be the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met,” he assured her running his hand up and down her back. “I was mean today. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You should have punched me in the face.”
He chuckled. “Never in a billion years, love,” he brushed her hair out of her face. “You didn’t need t’do it, but I get it.”
“I didn’t. I shouldn’t have. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
“M’telling you, you don’t need to. I won’t behave poorly like I did today again.”
Her heart felt so broken--she was afraid to speak. Worried it would just come out in a mess of sobs that Harry would unfairly have to comfort. “I can’t even believe you’re apologizing for your behavior. It was my own doing.”
“Angel,” he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose. “You did what you thought was best as a mum. M’never going t’fault you for that; just...” he smiled and shook his head. “Tell me beforehand next time, yeah?”
She snorted. “I won’t ever let there be a next time,” she vowed. He winked at her, cupped her face with his hands that she missed gently caressing her and touching her in between playing with Rory, all day long. Gently, he pressed his lips to hers to seal the promise.
--
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spicyclover · 10 hours
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You used me
Summary : It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did.
Next part of "You betrayed me"
Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.
Thank you! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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When the door closed that night, I collapsed on the floor of my kitchen, on the cold tiles. In the weeks that followed, I spent them in a blur. I kept myself busy to stop thinking, to stop thinking about you. I lived on automatism. I'm a fucking robot, because of you. I get up in the morning without motivation and go to bed with the ball in my stomach to meet you in my dreams.
I’ve been going over and over our conversation. I’m a bet. A fucking, humiliating bet. I have never been more shame than that evening. Everyone knew and no one told me. They knew that I loved you so bad, and I let you treat me like that. I'm so naïve. I just want myself back. I just wanted to be enough. Don't you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded? Don't you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing? But don't tell me you're sorry. You should feel sorry for yourself. An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean.
Once the door was closed. My friends left with you. Because you bring them more than I could ever and it hurts like hell. To see these "friends" I know since my early childhood mock me for my naivety. Until this day, it is hard to believe. I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one, In a short time you became the reason I get up in the morning and the reason I like to dream. And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone.
It's bittersweet to think about the damage that you did. You betrayed me.
For the first time since we broke up, I saw you in the street. You had your arm on a new girl. Showing her off like she's a new trophy. A happy and rested look on your face. I wish I dared to come running and punch that smile off your face, but I couldn’t move. You hang out in public with her, but never with me. I went home with tears in my eyes and no morale. It was the first time I managed to leave home after weeks of moping.
The more time passed, the more I felt my head getting out of the water. My body was less numb and I started breathing again, enjoying what I used to love. I adopted a little puppy at this time of my life, the kind we talked about in our long late-night discussion about our future together. You gave me your word. He's the world to me now. Milo, the dog.
The late afternoon often takes me to the beach. I let Milo run on the deserted beach and play with the waves. I take advantage of this moment of calm to observe the sunset. I breathe in and out deeply, letting my last thoughts of you go into the sea. I feel free. After three months of hell, I’m back to normal, like you never existed.
"Hi, bab..." That voice is yours. Why do you come back? Why do you haunt me like that? I turn around and there you are, in all your splendour. Your curls are more beautiful than ever, your face more beautiful than ever. I can't let you win. I walk away from the beach. Milo follows me. I feel your eyes following me soon it's your footsteps I hear. "Please, Y/n, I need to talk to you."
"I think you said enough. You should go back to your new girlfriend. I think she's getting lonely." I said without looking back. The waves fade and I feel your hand grab my arm.
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baby-jaguar · 1 day
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Lust by Nature {Part 4}
Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Read on ao3
Pairing: Captain John Price x fem!Reader
MDNI: 18+!
Warnings for this chapter: Drugging, hinted non-con but just a hair
Word Count: 5,777
Summary: He’d been used to the small messages telling him to make you simmer down, something not uncommon in the scope of you being, well, you.
A/N: There are a few POV Shifts and time skips in here, denoted by the "---". Work has been kicking my butt so sorry this is late. I hope ye enjoy
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Waking up, you almost bit a medic’s hand off.
Wild and afraid. It was sudden and the place was seemingly so new that it triggered your fight or flight. You did not want them anywhere close and for far too long than you deemed necessary. Insistent on them leaving you to heal on your own even if you’re sucked dry of any magic at this point. Snapping your teeth like a wild animal when one medic tried taking your shirt off to get to the gouge on your side, before snarling as two were tag teaming you to keep you down. 
Something about their hands not feeling warm enough, not having the smell of tobacco leaves stained into their skin to leave a trail of smoke. Yet there was something lurking in the air. Something different; You knew the scent was familiar, it felt like it belonged in the medical ward yet it shouldn’t be here near you. It screamed danger, something clawing and scratching at your mind to remember.
The scent trails around the room like the smell of burnt clover, making your stomach want to recoil and throw up its acid with the lack of any substance in it. 
The lab.
Neurons fire off, and your hackles are raised. Literally. Hissing and ignoring the medics around you, yowling like a damned animal in pain when you realize what you’re smelling. Stuck in fear, now grappling with the sheets as your hands grab onto the bed rails, shaking the bed as you shift in short and shaky bursts.
---
Somedays Price’s office felt like a sanctuary, while others, it feels like his own jail cell. Head down, furiously scribbling his memories onto paper to prepare the after-action report while leaving a separate sheet blank and off to the side with your name at the top.
God, he had it in his head that he needed to be so fucking pissed at you. For the dream, for disobeying orders, for getting hurt. But he knows it’s irrational and can at least objectify his emotions enough to see them from a third-person point of view.
His head’s in his ass and he’s acting like a fucking boy.
Even Soap had earned a scolding from the Captain, taking it in strive to only break the berating with a smirk on his lips. He knew. Johnny knew, Ghost knew, and even fucking Gaz knew that you were getting underneath Price’s skin. Something no woman had ever done so easily and successfully before.
His cell rings, not his personal mobile but rather his work flip phone. One that either means business or trouble.
“Laswell.”
The number was unsaved, as all are since this was the one he toted around everywhere while deployed. 
“Captain. I’ve got some news for you. Now a good time?”
Leaning back, he takes this saving grace as a moment to rest his eyes and hand from writing. “Of course. Wha’s goin’ on?”
There’s shuffling on the other end of the line, sounding like she’s standing up to walk somewhere. Price presumes it is towards a window. Dramatic woman.
“We’ve gotten word that there's some unrest back in-”
Her statement is cut off when the phone begins vibrating again. “Laswell, hold on. I’ve been expecting this call, can I catch you in a moment?”
A scoff is his answer before cutting the call and switching to the new one.
“Yes?”
“Need you in Med, stat. Saint’s going-”
“On it.” Snapping his phone shut while moving to the door. He’d been used to the small messages telling him to make you simmer down, something not uncommon in the scope of you being, well, you. 
He can hear the commotion at the end of the hall before he’s near the door. Opening the door in a flurry, he finds you in a state he’s never seen before; Wide-eyed, backed into the back of the bed, and curled up to shield yourself. A second sweep of the room makes him realize you’re not protecting yourself from the medics. No, you’re looking towards him, but seemingly not at him.
“Saint.” The growl catches your attention, focusing on his mustache twitching as his eyebrows furrow. “Care to tell me why the medics said you need to leave the infirmary before you make one of the staff go to inpatient?”
“It's wrong. Doesn’t smell right.” In return, your head only snaps in his direction, eyes only keeping on his for a moment. “Don’t take me back, I don’t want to go back.”
The blatant stare you receive is more than enough to let you know he’s lost in whatever this whirlwind of emotions is. “You need to settle down, and behave.” The whisper is a promised threat, entirely off-kilter from what you need right now.
“I don’t want them touching me!” You hiss almost petulantly, being sure to restrain your voice for only him to hear. “I have to leave. Just let me heal myself, please-”
His hands move out of sight from your narrowed eyes as you beg; Coming up to capture your jaw with one hand as the other holds your shoulder. He steadily leans in to hold your face still.
“You need to stay and get checked out. You were hurt, sweetheart.” The harsh command battles with the softness of his palm cupping your jaw as his thumb stroking your cheek.
That’s when you saw him through the window. 
A man, dressed in square glasses and a white coat that seemed cheap and fake in material. A scam of a man. Dr. Deidrick. 
This man knows you well, as you know him. He was a constant in the lab, the person who oversaw all testing of blood, vitals, but most importantly testing the magic inside you. A large amount of scars on your body were because of him, always measuring your healing capabilities depending on your energy levels and what you had used as energy prior to the test.
Locked in a stare-down, Price only registers your change when you stiffen and stagger a breath. “What’s wrong?”
Looking at where your eyes are, he finds the man looking in through the small door window, glaring at your face, seemingly at where Price touches you gently. When he moves to glance at Price, he gives a small nod before entering. 
“Everything okay, Captain?” His tone is polite and neutral, speaking to Price while his gaze remains on you. “Is she having a little fit?” 
The clicks of his dress shoes make more noise of his entrance, your hands latching onto Price’s forearms.
“And you are?”
The doctor laughs, giving a smile more than forced. This you know for certain.
“My apologies, I am Dr. Deidrick. I came to visit once I heard our little demon was wounded.”
His possessiveness in the phrasing alone ticks off the Captain's mind, raising questions as to what in the fuck is going on. He can feel the slight tremor of your hold and, for more decency, the hand cupping your jaw moves to hold onto yours.
“So, you’re from the facility?”
“Yes, I was her previous caretaker in medical for the last several years.” Cockiness evident when his attention shifts to grab the chart at the end of the bed. “I hope you do not mind I came to check in on her healing and progress. Just a simple evaluation and report.”
He reads over the chart for a moment; Flipping the page while moving closer to your side, opposite of Price. 
“How are you feeling, Devil?”
Instead of quiping a sharp or actual answer, the response is enough to shock the Captain.
“Hello, Dr. Deidrick.” Speaking softly and politely, as if you were some nobel greeting a high priest. Don’t misbehave.
You’ve learned this lesson with him.
“Hello. Now, how are you feeling?” He digs in further with the question, eyes moving up from the paper with a weighted look.
“I’m fine. Sore. Tender. I told them I could heal on my own.”
"Mm..." Dedrick watches as you speak before moving to place the clipboard down, grabbing a pair of gloves.  "And you believe that you can heal yourself easily?" His voice remaining calm and civil.
That's one thing you’ve always hated. Even in the cruelest and inhumane moments when studying creatures and hybrids alike, he had the calmest voice.
“Yes, I’ve dealt with worse.” Spitting the answer at him in a quick snap, you can't help but let anger flare. “You of all people should know that.”
Dedrick's expression changes for the first time. His eyebrows raise and jaw tightening in warning with a sharp look.
"I know that you can heal, but that doesn't mean that you should." A hint of an edge to his voice bleeds through. "Your injuries are still serious. If you leave here before fully healed, that would be highly irresponsible."
“The medics already cleaned and sutured it. There’s nothing more to do.”
You can see the game he plays, yet you’re playing it too. Price doesn’t know, the entirety of your team doesn’t know. If for their sake or the sake of keeping yourself alive, it's not certain. 
Telling Price would solve this problem right here, right now. Screaming the horrors Dr. Deidrick has committed to others and to you could easily raise alarm bells through the whole base, yet you remain a perfect little actor. Just as you were trained.
“I’ll determine that for you, not you.” Deidrick retorts shorty, gaze shifting from your body to Price. “I will have to do an exam of the wound and her damage. Just to make sure there are no outliers to her magic or health.”
There isn't room for argument here, seeing as Price is a Captain and not a fucking Doctor over mystical creatures and beings.
“Well, I can be in the room with her. That be an issue?”
The most Deidrick can muster is a forced grin, narrowing his eyes to Price’s presence. “Yes, that is perfectly understandable for you to oversee the process, Captain.”
A swift silence ensues as Deidrick walks to the medical cabinets and the end of the room, looking over his clipboard and grabbing medical tools- the kind that isn’t even needed but instead for show. All for the sake of Price.
The velcro cuff of the sphygmomanometer wraps around your arm before the manual pump begins from Deidricks hands. The cold stethoscope in the crook of your elbow, silence as he measures your blood pressure. Just as he is about to speak, the sharp ringing of a dial tone sounds out.
“Shit- I have to take this.” Price’s hand retrieves the phone from his pocket, confirming the caller. “Be right back.”
“No… No, please.” Unabasidly begging, your hands on your Captains arm to try and anchor him to you. “Don’t go.” It's a quiet plead, begging if that, but the wild look in your eyes makes him stiffen for a moment while caught between two choices.
“I’ll be right back. Be good.” The faint squeeze of your hand registers in tandem with him leaning down to place a reassuring kiss on your head. Before you can beg again, he’s out the door.
---
“Laswell.” Price speaks quietly into the phone, moving into the hallway near the medic’s station, a few idling around on their computers to input vitals.
“Said you were gonna call me back, John. Got worried your old mind forgot about me.”
A small scoff out of courtesy for the woman's harsh humor, yet he doesn’t say anything back.
“Anyway, I need to tell you where your group has been assigned to. You’re headed out to-”
“Do you happen to know if any personnel relating to Saint's previous facility can be on base?”
Cutting off Laswell would usually end with a sharp reprimand akin to an elementary school teacher. Yet this question is well worth her thought. Even she can recognize that.
“Not without warning and an established confirmation of visitation. It’s the normal protocol for off-site visitors to that level. Why?”
He chews the side of his cheek, nodding in thought as he confirms what he previously knew. His eyes flit between your medical room’s door, the window to the outside, before settling on a whiteboard with various patient names.
“There’s a doctor in the med unit with her right now. Say’s he found out she was wounded and came to check on her… That’s just downright unnatural when she was wounded three days ago for fuck sake. How’d he even find out?”
Silence greets him in response, but it's a sign of her thinking. A tussle of paper sounds out before typing on her keyboard. “There was no agreement or discernment of their medical staff being on base. Only the executives and her previous commander. He shouldn’t be there nor even have access.”
It only confirms Price’s simmering anxiety, eyes stuck on your door from afar.
“What did you say his name was?”
“Dr. Deidrick. Said he’d be givin’ her an exam of the wound-” The words die in a sharp crumble on his tongue when you scream his name.
“Was that-”
“Send the boys my way, I’m dealing with it.” Hanging up the phone, his body already shouldering the door at a moment’s notice.
It doesn’t budge.
Looking through the window, he’s met with your wide eyes, brows arched up, while your body tries to scurry off the bed yet you’re not even moving. The sight of brown leather tied to your wrists becomes glaringly obvious. 
“Somebody get this door open, right fucking now!” The bellow echos in the hallway, sending a fluttering panic around the staff while he continuously tries to shoulder the door and get the handle down.
“John! Help me!” Your howling meets his ears to send a shiver down his spine. I should have listened, I should have stayed, I should be in there.
I should be protecting her.
Shifting his stance to the left, he can see Deidrick at the counters, holding up a small brown vial while extracting its contents into a syringe. Only after he deems it filled, pushing the air bubble out, does he look to Price. 
“It’s just to settle her down, not to worry.”
God, he wants to throw up. He wants to murder this man with his hands and rip each artery from his body to hang up as vines growing onto the wall. He wants nothing more than to soothe your crying face in his arms away from whatever torture is going on right in front of him.
“WHERE THE FUCK IS THE KEY?” He shouts again, sparing a glance towards the staff as five of them look in drawers around the main pod of their stations.
Movement from the room demands his attention, the footsteps ringing out in heavy weighted clicks on the floors. You can’t even look back to Price, struggling like an animal caught in a metal trap.
---
“They already know, just fucking run while you can.” The guttural hiss is uncontrolled as it leaves you, voice raw from lack of water in your mouth accompanied by the panting of your breath. Eyes only set on Deidrick, you can’t focus on anything but keeping the needle away from you.
“This is your exam, my dear. There’s no harm in that.” He chastizes, tsking you with a mocking voice. Fully seeing his old self alights your body and magic, trying to strum out of you like a whip, yet so dulled into yourself with nothing to thrive on.
“I can see how weak you are. Have they not been taking care of you?” The coldness of his hand dawns upon your face, grabbing roughly on your jaw to pull you towards him. “You know I can give you what you need.” The green of his eyes makes you sour, having only ever seen them as a rancid mix of piss yellow and barf green to match his existence.
“You’ll settle down and be a good girl for me, yeah? Just like old times.”
“I can’t wait to torture you in hell.” 
He laughs, a genuine smile lighting his face up as he leans in closer. “The sweetest promise of eternity, devil.” 
Moving back after giving your jaw a far too firm squeeze, his bony fingers bring the needle up to the light to double-check before gripping the meat of your bicep. “Dont. Move.”
You couldn’t hear anything over the commotion outside, thus, when the metal door slams open, you jump.
Right into the fucking needle.
A shocked cry leaves you, eyes now stuck in fear to watch for the amount he pushes through. 
Half of the dose goes into your arm.
It would have been more, save for the body that immediately pulls him and the needle away from you, throwing him onto the ground.
Price stands, heaving and shaking with a snarl lighting up his face while looking down on the man. 
“When I put you under, it will be six feet under the god damned ground.” His hands are on the man in a flurry of movements, checking his waistline for any other surprises, and when finding none, he throws a punch at him.
Then again. And again. And Again.
You don’t realize you’re stuck in a trance of watching him until warm hands find your wrist on the opposite side of the commotion. You’re startled until being met with warm brown eyes that match his skin, his smile calming.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?” Gaz’s hands work quickly on undoing the straps of your wrists, letting the sounds of the fighting echo in the room while rushing footsteps come from the hallway.
Ghost and Soap enter the doorway, a quick survey before getting to Price and doing god knows what to the man- you can’t see anymore as Gaz cradles you into his neck. Tucking the blanket around your backside before carrying you away in a bridal carry, he shushes you when his scent and warmth break you into a sob.
“Shh, it’s okay. We’ve got you now.” Vaguely registering his lips on your head, your eyes dim into a barely open gaze while the world moves too fast around you. Hot tears track down your face and onto his shirt.
“You’re with us now. Not gonna let that happen ever again.”
The sound of a whimper mixes in when you call out his name. Raising a hand to grasp his shirt in a weak fist as you register him moving you to somewhere through the hallways. Somewhere familiar; the team’s common room.
“Gonna make you nice and comfortable right here. Not gonna leave you, Saint.”
And in the most ironic series of events, for a second time, your world goes dark.
---
The sound of the TV playing a god-forsaken soccer football game makes you stir. Muscles stiff and tired, a feeling of something on the back of your hand makes you wince. Groaning, you move the other hand to paw at the intrusion, before someone else’s touch halts you.
“Hey now, none of that.” The soft voice from earlier speaks out, with an almost hint of authority as he moves your hands away from each other. “You’ve got an IV in you, Need to keep that in for a bit longer.”
Stirring, the world comes back into view when your eyes open slowly and try to blink the yellow overhead lights away. “Gaz?” His name is slurred in your drowsy speech, head lifting up to look around before finding him face to face with you.
“Good morning, Princess. How’ya feelin?”
Stiff, sore, like you just got run over by a train. 
“Not too bad.” Sitting in his lap, now in a pair of sweats and a shirt that you recognize isn’t yours, you both sit under a fuzzy blanket pulled from your room. “What happened? Where is-?”
“Hang on, let's focus on you first. Does your side hurt right now?”
It does, a constant stinging that radiates into a dull thrumming. It feels bulky, the firmness of tape keeping down what you presume to be gauze while it pulls at the peachfuzz on your skin. Your arm, the one that took the injection, feels sorer than after a full mission. 
“Feels fine right now, would like some meds maybe later.” Quietly responding before looking up to his brown eyes. While Gaz usually has enough snark to serve his entire country, his gently and nurturing tendencies highlight in the soft and intimate moment.
He holds the qualities of a leader, and possibly be concerning at his young age. But seeing as he’s grown under Price’s wing, being a favored candidate from the beginning, maybe his weight was a shouldered experience to lighten the Captain's load. Maybe he won’t be able to fully take his place until the gentleness withers away into hate and bloodborne desire to bark and bite under the pull of a leash.
Maybe he’ll get sick of it and decide to have a family, leaving this life behind when he feels his hands have turned far too dirty.
He turns his gaze to the TV for a moment, drawing a long sigh in before releasing, a small frown on his lips. “You remember anything?”
You’d rather not. Had you still been in a sterile environment, you’d have woken in a panic just as before. 
“Yes. The… yes.” Glancing away, you can feel the shift in your eyes focus. “I remember something happening when I saw Price’s face then you were there.”
You miss the look of worry on his face when the game on TV catches your attention as someone scores. “Where are the others?’
“Price and Soap dealing with the brass. Ghost was here a second ago but will be right back.” Gaz’s head tilts back behind him to check around before reaching up to the IV bag behind you two. “You’re just about finished, you fine if I take this out?”
Offering him your hand, he removes the tube and tape before placing a gauze square and bandaid over it. “Not supposed to take it out until you’re completely done, but you’ll drink your water, yea?” Inadvertently speaking close to your ear while he clamps the IV line shut, a chill runs down your spine.
“Mm, I will. Thank you.” Silent gratitude for him being sweet enough to let you off the tether, you take it as a signal of freedom and try to get up. Before being interrupted.
“Stay down, Saint.”
Ghost enters the archway of the common room; Dressed in baggy sweats and a T-shirt that shouldn't be as form-fitting as it is. A black gator mask hides the lower half of his face. He makes his way to a spot on the couch adjacent to you and Gaz.
“Your stitches are barely holding from earlier. Not allowed to be moving like that.” 
Underneath you, Gaz squirms while clearing his throat once you settle down. “Ah, actually. Ghost.” He starts, voice now sounding reluctant with trepidation. “You mind taking over for a bit? Haven’t eaten and need to piss.”
A mix between a laugh and worry crosses your mind as you pout when realizing he’d been here the whole time with you. 
“Sorry, Kyle.” Whispered as you give his shoulder a pat, looking to Ghost for whatever his plan would be. “How long was I out?”
The lieutenant scoots next to you, arms brought out to grab underneath your legs and back before gently transferring you into his lap. You can feel Gaz getting up behind you, a soft squeeze on your shoulder before he leaves. “Bout an hour ‘n half.” 
The difference between Gaz and Ghost is definitely in size, but the lieutenants body is firm and demands that you accommodate to him rather than how Gaz’s size lets his boldly mold to you. You’re still blinking slowly, sluggishly trying to reintegrate your mind into full speed. A grunt acknowledges the statement.  
“Didn’t know you had blond hair.” 
Ghost is pretty, not even in his own way, he is just simply pretty. Brown eyes contrast the lightness of his hair, some spots missing where scars trail over his scalp. His forehead also having lines from stitches done too messy, wrinkles from years of fighting, and a few freckles decorate the top bridge of his nose. A second scan shows a hairline scar over his left eyelid, a group of eyelashes being blond where the scar ends.
“You wouldn’t ‘ave known.” A huffed laugh makes his chest puff up, only looking down at you for a moment before watching the game. 
Before you can even ask another question, he voice muted. “That… doctor. He wasn’t supposed to be on base. Not even from what he did, but there was no agreement to have the facility’s medical here. Not even the command can get on here without clearance and a schedule.” 
The clench in your jaw halts your words, growing almost distant in the eyes as you digest the information. “So how did he get on base? Just lie his way through everything?”
Ghost sighs, watching one of the teams score a goal before turning back to you. 
“Yes. Fucking skunk lied his way through, altered some ID and got into medical. They say he was watching over your file and once he saw your name ping in as a combat injury, he was acting as your attending and case manager.”
It really should send more of a chill down your back than the small amount it does, rather, a sluggish feeling churning in your stomach. You’ve been through horrible things. Having eyes on you stopped phasing you a while ago.
Letting the conversation drop, you both turn your attention towards the football game to watch the halfway point. You find a place for your face to rest on his collarbone, laying yourself to use his chest like a pillow. He doesn’t react, yet in moments where the visiting team comes close to scoring a goal, his knee bounces in anticipation. 
“Did you ever play any sports?”
His knee settles before responding. “Hockey. Short time, but ‘s fun.” 
“Hm, was gonna take you for a rugby kinda guy.”
“Nah, that's more John’s style. The both of them.” The mental image of a younger pair of Johns conjures in your mind, a soft grin twitching the corners of your mouth at the thought. “Sometimes they’ll play when we’re together on leave.”
“Leave?” A pause as your eyes blink open slowly. You don’t remember closing them. “Like you guys just… Leave?”
The feeling of his large, warm, hand moving to hold your back comes when he shifts to look down at you. “Leave. When we get a break from duty.” It comes out as a question more so, his brows furrowing down.
“Oh.” Matching his confusion. “I didn’t get to have those. Nowhere to just, go.” You didn’t have a home, lost that long ago. Sadness was gaslit into happiness by telling yourself you didn’t have to pay rent, and bills, and not worrying about the economy.
Something shifts in his eyes, Ghost himself looking like a kicked puppy now as he takes in your implications. Softness emits subtly in his eyes and the way he slightly rests you on his chest when pushing you into him. 
“I’m sure you can ask Capt’ to fix that.” A soft scratch of your scalp leads you to settle down, and when you keep breathing in the smell of him, you fall asleep.
---
“... lost it by a point. Bloody coach looks like a muppet.”
“Won’t be able to show his face for the next year. Damn bloke.”
The voice sends enough of a spark to take you out of your REM cycle, now taking stock of where you’re at. From the smell of it, you’re on the couch but now lay on it instead of a body. There's a few more steps of shuffling before it stills.
“How is she?”
The warmth next to you grunts, shifting to leave the couch. “Seems fine, but fell back asleep quickly once Gaz left ‘er with me.” The new set of footsteps have a distinct gait, trying to be silent but failing with the TV no longer being on. “How’d your side go?”
“Almost got me on excessive force.” The croaky voice makes your mind wake up more, realizing its Price. “Almost knocked the brass out hearing that. Had to make sure he saw the vials and needles he snuck in.”
“Was he going to… do anyth-”
“No.” Price cuts Ghost off immediately, something lying in the tautness of his voice. “I don’t know. I don’t want to know, else I’ll fuckin’ kill ‘em.”
Exhaustion covers your body and mind, fighting it to the point where it feels like you have to unstick yourself from the couch but tingling makes your body want to still. You pull on your muscles enough that Price notices.
“Hey, pretty girl. Can you hear me?”
The groan that leaves you is enough of a signal that you can. One of his hands moves to pet your hair down as the other adjusts the blanket on you. Footsteps elsewhere fade away, signaling Ghost’s departure. Your eyes open to watch Price squat down in front of you.
“There she is.” He coo’s in a hushed whisper. Part of you wants to cry at how good it makes your heart feel. All you can manage is a whimper.
“Still tired?”
“Mhh. Yes.” Croaking makes you realize how thirsty you are, somewhat regretting not staying up to drink your water like you’d promised Gaz. “Where were you?”
Blue eyes leave the depths of your red ones, tracing over your face to your neck, down to your body, and how you lay on your uninjured side. “Taking care of business. Nothing to worry about.”
His hand comes back to your arm, making you flinch as he presses onto the tiny spot of dried blood. The small twinge of pain from his softness makes you want to scream at him, cry at him while crying for him to hold you. To give any emotion clearly while silence eats away between you.
“Did I mess up?”
The white of his eyes shows a bit more when he widens them in surprise, fliting up to hold your gaze. “No… No, Saint. You did not mess up.” In a moment, he moves to his knees, crowding you onto the couch while bringing your face closer to his. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have left you in there. Should have fuckin’ listened to you.” 
In a twisted sense, the couch seems like his pew, and you are the body he weeps over. Wrapped in a blanket is a far-off notion from any white to be buried in, but your open eyes just feel so tired and dulled from the last few days. Rightfully so. His hands cup your face like they would hold a bible open, finding scripture in the features of your face.
Price doesn’t cry. How much would it take to make him? Has he had a family? Did he lose someone he loved because of enemies? Did he have a tragic backstory that granted him an almost immortal sense of luck?
There’s certainly no angel on his shoulder because you’d have fought and killed it on the first day.
“You didn’t know.” Starting hoarsely, swallowing the saliva in your mouth. “I didn’t want you to know.”
There's dissatisfaction from hearing your answer, a pull at the corners of his mouth. “I need to know, Saint. I have to know. That’s not goin’ to happen again.” Leaning down to press his chapped lips to your forehead. “I’m sorry.”
The feeling of his hair in your hands is surprisingly soft, almost as surprising when you realize you’re bringing him in to kiss you. 
It’s soft, languid, and slow, yet anxiety boiling at the bottom of your stomach. His lips part yours, leading you to taste the tobacco you tried days ago. His mustache and beard scratch your face, prickling your skin in an added sense of feeling to grapple onto. Dragging you closer with an arm wrapped behind your back, his tongue teases yours before diving in deeper.
“While this is sickeningly romantic,”
The voice makes you gasp like a whore in her lover's shared bed, the drawl sardonic enough to know it is exactly not that.
It’s so much worse.
“I rather prefer a different type of scene.” 
The woman stands against the doorway, arms crossed while she surveys the scene. Dressed in black pants and a turtleneck, her blue eyes light up with the white overcoat that shields her from the coldness of desert nights.
“Kate-” Price backpedals, separating himself from you enough to sit up straight from his place on the floor. Stuttering, he glances at you before back to her, a blush fading into existence on his aged skin. “I- uh. What are you doing here?’
Kate Laswell, smirks before looking at you with a slightly softer expression. She’s still cocky through and through from catching her prestigious ally making out with his little demon. 
“After the shit show got up the ladder, I decided to make a quick trip to check-in. And, you never called me back, Captain.” 
Ok, now it is starting to seem like a lovers quarrel. Feeling out of place, you don't move until Price takes a moment to clear his throat, leaning forward as if to obstruct you from her view.
“Well, I’m assuming it’s more serious than a phone call let it out to be.” Standing his hand brushes your shoulder before he crosses his arms. Laswell watches, moving forward a bit. Her eyes glance towards you, a subtle nod in greeting.
“Pleasure to meet you, Saint. Sorry to interrupt.” Absolutely no shame eludes from this woman. Continuing on, she holds Price’s gaze;  “A base just got accredited for their first hybrid operator. Similar to our situation with Saint.” She takes a moment to look over you, briefly checking out the remainder of the IV bag on its stand. “Need you to go do didactics for our friends.”
“And which friends are you speaking of this time.” 
She pauses, a flicker of her lips turning upwards if only for a moment. 
“You’ll be headed back to Las Almas.”
As if watching a dramatic TV show, your eyes flit back to take in his reaction. If you had the energy, you’d feel bad for Price’s stress levels. With the sigh he lets out, you know that he can never catch a break.
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fanficshiddles · 18 hours
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The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 52
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Loki and Claire were cuddling in bed the following morning, they were speaking about last night of course.
‘I’m sorry I never told you the truth… I’m ashamed, I think I tried my best to block out the fact that he did save my life. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for him changing me.’ Loki said sheepishly as Claire lay on top of him, her chin on his chest as she looked at him.
She shook her head. ‘It’s ok. You went through a lot, both of you. I’m a little surprised at your dad for not taking Chris’ worries into consideration before telling you. I know what he does isn’t right, but at the end of the day he is an original vampire with strong instincts. He can control them, though just enjoys letting them run wild sometimes. He seems like he cares about those around him though, since he’s not ever killed a student human or teacher.’
‘That’s true. Even though he often threatens, I think it’s just him being an ass.’ Loki chuckled as he trailed his fingers up and down Claire’s back.
‘Plus a lot of the bickering and teasing is just major big brother vibes.’
‘Hmm. Some a bit far though.’ Loki said with a raised eyebrow.
‘True. I do feel for him though, searching for his soulmate for so long.’ Claire sighed.
‘Mmm, me too.’ Loki said sadly.
‘It’s a shame we didn’t get to enjoy the Halloween night properly though.’ Loki sighed and slid his hand up Claire’s back to the back of her neck, making her eyes flutter shut for a moment.
‘It is… Though at least we’ve got your birthday party at the end of the month.’ She grinned widely.
‘Oh god, how could I forget?’ He chuckled.
‘It’ll be great. I’m guessing we now add Chris to the invite list?’
Loki smiled and nodded. ‘Of course. Though we will need to watch him closely since your sister will be coming too.’ He frowned.
‘Once she meets Matt, I am sure she will be hooked and he with her. He’ll look after her.’ Claire assured Loki.
‘You are determined to hook them up, aren’t you?’ Loki laughed as he put his arms around her and rolled them over.
‘Of course. He’s a lovely sweet guy, he will be good for her.’ Claire smiled.
‘He will be. I think he will enjoy wooing her, he’s quite the romantic from what I’ve gathered.’
‘Not as romantic as you though, surely?’ Claire asked as she put her arms around Loki’s neck.
‘Oh, more so I think.’ Loki chuckled.
‘Oh damn. I went for the wrong vampire then.’ Claire sighed dramatically.
‘Cheeky.’ Loki growled and buried his face into her neck, nibbling playfully on her neck as he tickled her sides, making her squeal and laugh underneath him.
He stopped tickling her after hearing her laugh for a while, he enjoyed just tickling her to hear her laughter. He dipped his head down to kiss her, it swiftly grew heated and before they knew it, Loki was thrusting into her slowly yet deeply, making her whimper and moan against his lips.
Claire clung to Loki tightly, her nails dug into his back, though he barely felt it. Sweat soon beaded on his forehead as his movements became more erratic. The sounds that spilled from her lips was driving him nuts.
He always liked to make her cum first, he enjoyed feeling her cum around him. He slid a hand down between them, he sought out her clit and lightly teased it, working her up nicely until they were both close.
‘Cum for me, baby. I can feel you so close, come on.’ Loki growled and put more pressure on her clit, with a final thrust was all Claire needed.
‘Ohhh fuck! Loki!’ She cried out as she came, setting Loki off too when he felt her clenching around his cock.
Loki collapsed on top of her, though made sure not to crush her. Even though he knew that she enjoyed feeling the weight of him on top of her.
They were both panting hard, needing some time to recover. Although they didn’t get it, as they heard Bat running up the stairs, yelling her head off. It was breakfast time and they were late, which simply wasn’t good enough.
Bat strolled into the room and walked to the side of the bed, yelling loudly at them. She sat down on the floor at the side and kept making a noise.
‘Bat… Give us a minute, please. I know we’re a little late for breakfast.’ Loki groaned.
Though Bat then began wagging her tail in displeasure and with every wag, her tail thumped hard against the laminate floor, making Loki groan even more.
Claire burst out laughing under him, hearing the noises Bat was making. Her displeasure was very clear.
‘I mean, we are one minute late for breakfast. That is the worst crime ever.’ Claire laughed.
‘Do I have to move?’ Loki huffed.
‘Unless you want Bat to get even angrier, I’d say so.’ Claire nodded.
‘Ugh.’ Loki rolled reluctantly off of Claire, he slipped out of bed and grabbed his boxers to chuck on. Bat chirped happily and made her way out of the room, looking back to make sure that Loki was following her.
‘You’re such a Bat bitch.’ Claire called to him with a smirk when he was halfway down the stairs.
‘Just wait till I get back up there, you’re so in trouble!’ Loki shouted back to her, making her smirk even wider.
-
In the afternoon, Loki and Claire were just lazing about watching TV together when the doorbell rang. Loki went to answer it, he wasn’t too surprised to find it was Chris. He had a feeling he’d appear to talk some more.
He invited him in and got them all some drinks.
It was the first time that Claire had seen them both being reasonably relaxed in one another’s company.
They talked a lot, got some more little issues out of the way. Loki knew that Chris wouldn’t change his ways in regards to feeding from humans, it was something he was going to need to just accept. Chris also knew that Loki would never approve of that, so he knew he would need to try and stop badgering him about it being the best way.
Bat had made herself comfortable on Chris’ lap, purring away while he stroked her.
‘I’m glad you accepted Bat when I gave her to you. I had been worried at first you’d turn her away in spite of me.’ Chris chuckled.
‘You know I love cats, I could never have done that. She was far too cute, and still is. It’s like she’s barely aged, I can’t believe she’s almost sixteen.’ Loki said as he looked adoringly at said cat. ‘It’s as if you turned her too, keeping her young.’ He chuckled and took a swig of his drink.
Chris had been petting Bat, but sort of paused and a brief sheepish look crossed his face, though it quickly disappeared and he continued sliding his hand along the cats fur.
But Loki and Claire caught that look.
‘Wait… Chris… Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t turn my cat?’ Loki put his drink down and leaned forward, his eyes wide.
Chris looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he slowly raised his head to Loki. Bat lifted her chin high and let out a meow, then looked from Loki to Chris.
‘You did… Didn’t you? What the hell, man?’ Loki whined and ran a hand down his face.
‘Look… She was almost dead when I found her. Initially I was just going to leave her, but I couldn’t. Her eyes were just pleading at me to save her. So, I did… I changed her. I wasn't even sure if it would work on an animal but it did. Then I was going to set her free, but she kept following me. I took her home and decided to gift her to you. I didn’t want a pet, but I knew you loved cats. Knowing she will live forever gave me peace of mind that you’d have a companion forever, too. Incase like me you never found your soulmate.’ Chris admitted.
‘I KNEW IT!’ Claire blurted out and clapped her hands excitedly, making the vampires jump slightly.
‘Sorry… but she’s so smart, come on Loki. Surely you were suspicious too? It’s like she always knows what we are saying.’ Claire said a bit calmer.
Loki put his head in his hands for a moment. Bat jumped off Chris’ lap and went over to Loki, she butted his leg with her head, he moved his hands and looked down at her. She meowed at him and jumped into his lap, purring.
‘So, you’re a vampire Bat cat, huh?’ He hummed and scratched under her chin. ‘Why didn't you tell me before, hmm?’
Bat meowed in response, making him chuckle as he shook his head. ‘I guess I should’ve known, really.’
‘Ahhh, Bat! That’s so freaking cool.’ Claire laughed as she reached over to pet her too.
Bat meowed playfully and leapt onto Claire’s lap, she did a little dance around on her lap that made the three of them laugh.
‘I guess you could say the cat’s out of the bag now.’ Chris said with a smirk.
‘Oh god, now he’s doing dad jokes.’ Loki face-palmed. ‘I think I prefer the insults thrown at me.’
‘Don’t worry, brother. There will still be plenty of them.’ Chris grinned. ‘Anyway, I better get going. Some work to do before tomorrow.’
‘Are you going to get in touch with the school board?’ Loki asked him when he stood up.
Chris nodded. ‘First thing.’
‘Let me know when, I’ll join in the call.’ Loki smiled at him.
‘Thank you.’ Chris smiled back a genuine smile.
‘Oh, by the way. Loki’s birthday, we’re having a party here. Be here around four ish, there will be plenty of food and alcohol.’ Claire said quickly before Chris left.
‘I’ll be here.’ He nodded and began to head out, but he paused a moment and turned back to face them. ‘Is your sister coming?’
Both Loki and Claire instantly frowned. ‘Yes… why?’ Claire asked cautiously.
Chris smirked. ‘I just want to meet her, since I did kill her husband after all… I’ll try not to bite too hard.’ He winked at them.
‘You’ll do no such thing.’ Claire warned him.
‘We’re setting her up with Matt, so you’ll stay away.’ Loki said firmly.
Chris chuckled. ‘Sure, sure.’
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danielnelsen · 6 months
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family is out having a nice dinner and trying to convince me to come but i have way too much to do before i have to get up at the crack of dawn to get on a plane tomorrow, so dad's like "the food will be so nice, you're really missing out" then gives the phone to my sister who's like "the food will be so nice, you're really missing out," like........what part of "i have too much to do" says i can be convinced as if im just lazily deciding to stay home? all you've done is made me feel bad on top of being stressed about everything i have to do and how im not gonna get to have nice food today. cool thanks
#personal#if you know me i am CONSTANTLY complaining about how we never have any food at home#so i was gonna make some toast or something#but oh im so glad you're gonna be enjoying your nice restaurant food#do you think with everything ive said over the last few days that any of them realise that im having a TERRIBLE TIME RIGHT NOW???#it's like when we were out on sunday and i started saying i was exhausted and wanted to go home after we'd been out for HOURS--#--and everyone just shrugged and told me to deal with it for MORE HOURS while i was VERY VISIBLY HAVING A BAD TIME#and very obviously been recovering from that since then#AND BEING STRESSED OUT OF MY MIND ABOUT OUR PETS WHILE WE'RE GONNA BE AWAY#that's another thing. like late last week i said thing were really stressful#that was because my sister volunteered to look after my cat at her house while we're away like DO YOU KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT CATS#terrible idea. and she suggested a trial run and i was so stressed for that but thought maybe it'd be fine and reassure me...#no. cat was at my sister's house for about 24 hrs and didnt eat AT ALL. just hid under the bed the WHOLE TIME#and like. my cat doesnt drink water at all; she only gets it through her food. so she DIDNT DRINK that whole time too#and i was so stressed beforehand and then so much more stressed when nobody seemed pressed about getting her back home with any haste?????#someone's gonna look after her at home while we're away now which will be fine but there's still a bit of background stress there#like i have been stressed out of my mind the last two weeks and ive been explaining why im stressed to people all through it#and NOBODY IS PAYING ANY ATTENTION. IM EXHAUSTED AND STRESSED AND I HATE TRAVELLING AND EVERYONE KNOWS THIS#i was looking forward to having a few days by myself because im coming home before everyone else (thank god)#but the person looking after the cat needs somewhere to stay for a bit so they'll be here for a few days after i get back#i'll still get a few days by myself after they've left but like. i need a break. we havent even left and i need a break. im gonna go cry no#but only briefly because I HAVE TOO MUCH TO DO#sorry this has just been building for weeks and so much of it has just been worse than i expected and im still just so fucking tired#this food thing isnt too big of a deal. im just gonna order something. but just on top of everything else................#im just upset that everyone around me is just completely oblivious to me TELLING THEM THAT IM FEELING TERRIBLE#like i said on the phone just now 'why are you making me feel bad when ive said i cant go' and dad didnt really have an answer#AND THEN HE JUST GAVE ME A LIST OF OTHER THINGS HE WANTS ME TO DO BEFORE THEY GET BACK TONIGHT. HELLO???????#sorry that part only just occurred to me. he literally just gave me more to do after i said i cant go out because i have too much to do. ok
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tteokdoroki · 1 month
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HIGH HEELS - ryomen sukuna.
౨ৎ — about. “sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much.” as rough and rugged as he may seem, ryomen sukuna lives to see his girl happy. he loves to see her smile. he loves to know she feels as good as she looks…but when you end up looking a little too good in a certain pair of heels, he can’t be blamed for making you late for a dreaded dinner... ( 6.2K )
౨ৎ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, pwp — video banner. modern!au, rich girl!au, forbidden romance, reader has sisters, degradation, praise, pain play, fingering (f!receiving), exhibitionism, slight!daddy kink, hold the moan, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), masturbation (m!receiving), cum play, creampies, modern bf!sukuna, rich girl fem!reader.
౨ৎ — things to note. haii everyone ! it’s been a while since i posted a longer fic so im excited. this was supposed to be a thirst lol. i’m just testing the waters with my version of modern bf!sukuna ! many thanks to @yennified for the ask that inspired it all. i’d like to thank everyone for their patience ‘n i hope you enjoy mwah mwah <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪࣪𖤐₊ ⊹
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“we’re going to be late, hot stuff.” 
“no we’re not, ryo. give me five minutes! i just need to —“ 
if there’s one thing ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori had  learned from dating you, is that time management was never and never will be your strong suit.
if the phrase fashionably late could be embodied as a person, sukuna believes that it would definitely take the shape of you. you and your beautiful brown eyes that plead with him to give you a moment not even five minutes before you leave the house for dinner reservations. you and your sinful curves only accentuated the silk slip dresses you spend so long steaming before sukuna takes you out for the night. you and your perfect lips that have to be painted with the right gloss or lipstick to match your nails, purse and heels. 
all of you, and your beauty, make up the meat and bones of the phrase ‘fashionably late.’
just like right now, where you sit reapplying your hot chocolate lip gloss, perched on the edge of the luxurious king sized bed you’d demanded be in your hotel room. a room booked by your father for a family-oriented get-away. sukuna hadn’t wanted to come, as a man from humble beginnings, using your daddy’s money wasn’t something that he favoured — but the man liked to see his girl happy. sukuna lives to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it. 
“do ya really need five minutes to fix your lip gloss?” the pink haired man chides, sweeping a hand through his rosette locks in the mirror as he re-enters your bedroom. “i’ve seen you do it in less, gorgeous,” blood red eyes are quick to place you in the centre of the room — they never stray from you for too long, sukuna will always find you in a room no matter how busy or bare it is. your presence fills him with love and brings him comfort, even if he refuses to accept that as his truth. 
there’s a coldness to the look you give him over your compact mirror while you rub the swell of your lips together, spreading the pigment across them easily. it’s a warning not to rush you, a warning to your boyfriend who knows better. “i said, i need my five minutes.” 
ryomen drops the topic with a shrug, fixing his silky tie at the collar of his dress shirt — the one you’d so carefully picked because it matches the deep tone of his eyes and the colour of your slip dress. a mark of possession on your part. once he’s done, he takes to packing your designer clutch with all of your essentials from the dresser — blotting powder, your purse, any silver jewellery you’ll want to put on in the car. he slips on a couple of expensive rings to match with you too.
sukuna is more prepared for this dinner with your insufferable relatives than you are. he knows that tonight will be about your little sister and the rich lord she’s bagged as her boyfriend along with how soon they’ll be getting married. or it’ll focus on your older sister and her marriage that she’s trying so hard to keep together, despite it clearly falling apart. both of your siblings seem to think that they’re above you and your brooding, misunderstood boyfriend. 
but you don’t believe that. 
and you like to rub your love for one another in their bitter faces. 
“pretty girl,” sukuna purrs, his chest rumbling with affection once he takes note of your heels discarded to the side. their silver sparkles glint under the warm embrace of the lighting up above. sukuna knows those heels, he’s pulled them off of you a million times before during a haze of lustful kisses and sly touches. they’re expensive too — he has no idea why the sight of them turns him on so much. “if you don’t hurry up, we won’t be able to brag to your bitchy sisters about how in love we are.”
by no means is sukuna a man of weak resolve. his will is as strong as his exterior — coated in the scars of his rough past like the thick black tattoos that ink his arms. he remains strong in every scenario except for ones that concern you, one look from you and you’ve got that mountain of a man crumbling like an avalanche and falling to his knees. you cast your boyfriend an amused gaze, smacking your lips as you watch him sink to his knees before your very eyes. 
once again, your man takes the hint — thick fingers reaching for your glittery red bottom heels on the floor before he brings them up to the soles of your feet without a word. “you know how much i love the sound of that, ryo,” comes your dark hum, the colour of your eyes dimming with a desire ryomen sukuna knows all too well. “but i don’t see an issue with looking good while i do it.” 
“you’re right,” sukuna quips in a husky tone, taking one foot and slipping one of your expensive shoes onto it. “who cares if we’re late to meet your sisters. as long as you feel as good as you look — i couldn’t give a fuck.” his thick fingers that know the twitches and ticks of your body oh-so-well reach for the straps of your heels and slowly begin weaving them around your ankle, upwards. 
his blood red eyes remain hooked on your exposed thighs and supple skin, littered with a beautiful array of marks and scars from over your years of existence. some from before you even knew of ryomen, others from during your time together. “do you think i look good, baby?” you ask him innocently, leaning back on the bed with the palms of your hands lost in the whipped peaks of expensive cotton sheets — most exclusively found in this five star hotel. 
sukuna grins in that slow and sexy way which makes your stomach lurch with lust, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. “fuckin’ gorgeous, they’ll be shakin with rage.” he says, praise melting on the tip of his tongue. his words, in a symphony syllables, are accompanied by an undercover tune of desire — sukuna is a hungry man with little patience and a big appetite. once he’s settled on something, he’s damn sure to get it. 
tonight; his prey is you. 
the hulking man with the contrastingly soft pink hair bends at the neck to press a chaste kiss to your knee cap, smoothing the rough surface of his palms and workman’s hands over your doughy thighs — massaging you, easing any knots and tension beneath the top layer of your warm skin. his lips, only slightly chapped, curl upwards with a knowing smile when you let out a pleased chirp. sukuna’s hands work wonders on your body — causing your mind to drift away from the family dinner that awaits you. 
tonight; you could very well fall victim to the claws and fangs ryomen sukuna possesses.
kisses quickly become open mouthed and wet, hot and slippery over your flesh — and soon, sukuna adds teeth to the mix once he reaches your inner thighs, littering the area with deep shades of purple and midnight blue. he had no intentions of ravaging you like this, at least not so soon, but with a woman this irritable and fiery and troublesome on his arm how could he not? they say that you attract what you put out and the mirthy look in your eye, hidden between beautiful brown flecks of innocence, tells sukuna that you’re exactly what his guarded soul has been looking for all of his life.
his pulse quickens beneath the calcium cage of his chest — heart beat rising as you allow his curious lips and pink fluffy hair begin to disappear under the silky fabric of your figure-hugging dress. sukuna can practically taste you, the air underneath your skirt is dewy and warm and your flavour (that he knows oh so well) lingers within its particles.
god, he wants you so bad. he doesn’t even care how this may look. 
a man like him on his knees, ready to worship you as if you spout riches and bleed liquid gold. 
except you do, you’re worth more than sukuna could ever hope to be. the weight of your net-worth unfairly tips the scales and he doesn’t even care. all because he loves you. 
“why’re we even goin’ to this stupid dinner in the first place?” your rough and ragged boyfriend ponders out loud, with his words slipping over the edge of his sneaky snake's tongue. said tongue, if ryomen inches forward enough, could drag over your budding clit — clearly outlined through the barely-there crotch of your lace panties. “spend the night with me, doll. don’t gotta go a place…” a thick finger pulls the string of fabric away from your sticky slit, toying with the material until your premature arousal glazes his fingertip. 
but before the man can reward himself with the goods between your perfect thighs — the sharp point of your heel digs into ryomen’s firm right pec. your shoes are clean so they won’t leave a mark, but he feels like you’ve left one on his heart, even as the bottom of your shoe pushes him back and away from your warmth. 
“oh ryo, you must be hungry for the wrong thing,” you laugh breathlessly with your head tipping backwards, the sound shooting straight down to the hardness beneath sukuna’s black slacks. you push at him further until he rests back on his haunches — expression crazed and like a starved animal. “you forgot the other shoe, love.” 
it turns out, you’re just as skilled a huntress as sukuna is. a vixen who stalks her prey and makes them beg for all her mercy. “how careless of me…” the man drawls, finding himself drawn to you like a moth to a candle’s flame. he craves your attention, he basks in it when you give it to him in the way that you do now. there’s not a moment where you’re not looking at him, admiring the shape and form of your man as if he’s the rarest piece of art in the world or a treasure more expensive than any diamond. 
within the depth of those enticing brown eyes lay the truest form of love — even when you’re seconds away from devouring each other, your love for ryomen outgrows any doubt planted in your heart by your bitter family. 
“y’must be so disappointed in me…” he goes on, lifting your second ankle in one hand and adjusting your foot into the perfect position to slip your other heel on.  “how can i make it up to ya, gorgeous?” sukuna’s voice is gravelly, laced with intonations of neediness as he laces you up and finishes the job with a hand clasped over your knee. “i’ll do anythin’, anythin’ you want.”
graciously, you remove your red bottom from his shoulder and part your knees like the Red Sea — giving the older itadori the perfect view of the small string of fabric nestled between your glistening folds. even with the way you play coy, you’re always ready for him — as if it’s coded into your DNA to yearn for his touch. 
the upper row of your teeth sink into your shiny bottom lip as you look down at your man with unadulterated hunger. “anything, ryo?” 
sukuna’s chest rumbles (like a storm) with pride, his watchful gaze noting how you twitch and writhe for more. he leans forward and lets his black painted nails sink into the surface of your thighs — dragging you towards his awaiting mouth. “anythin’ for you gorgeous.” he repeats, voice raspy. in one swift movement, your red-bottom heels are swung over wide shoulders with thick muscles, keeping you nice and spread for him. 
from over your barely-there-panties, a finger glides through your glistening pussy lips and presses into your budding clit just to get a reaction out of you. a squeak that makes sukuna’s hips buck into the floor and a full body shiver that has your heels knocking behind the man’s head. arousal pearls on his fingertip through the material, which he leisurely rubs into the rest of your heated and throbbing sex, right down to your quivering hole. 
two fingers with polished black nails slip past your underwear’s waistband and dip inside of you with practised ease, instantly curling to find that special spot that drives you up the wall. sukuna knows you well, he’s spent years getting to that point. he’s committed every little detail there is to know about you to memory — the your lashes flutter when you like how he touches you, the way your throat bobs just before you mewl out his name. he knows exactly what you like and how to make you feel good. that fact drives sukuna into a frenzy.
his fingers start to work you faster, a lewd suctioning sound echoing throughout the luxurious room the deeper they plunge into you. sukuna’s thumb deliciously rolls over your swollen clit to add to your mounting pleasure, writing the signature of his claim on one of the most sacred parts of your body — where no other person can have you. 
“ryomen!” you squeal in surprise, your shaky thighs threatening to close around your boyfriend’s skilled hands. your hole clenches around his thick digits feverishly while drooling directly into the seat of his rough palm.
a resounding chuckle echoes between your legs, vibrating against your syrupy sex as his pink head of hair disappears beneath the hem of your silken skirt. “that good, huh?” comes his lazy reply to your call of his name, using his fingers to fuck your arousal back into you. “what’s the matter, pretty girl?” 
condescension twists with your boyfriend’s baritone voice, sending sparks of delight through your body like a thunder strike from zeus himself. when it comes to sex and pleasing you — sukuna is a god amongst mankind. the best you’ve ever had:
“don’t tease,” you growl out impatiently through gritted teeth, though your words melt into a whiny moan when sukuna easily bares down on your g-spot because he knows your squishy insides like the backs of his very hands. he finds it adorable when your face scrunches at the sensation of his cold, silver ring brushing up against your molten, sticky cunt and hums in content when you squirt a little bit for him in response. “we…we h-have plans for tonight!” 
“‘m sorry princess, didn’t know we were in a rush.” ryomen says smugly, leaning into the sinful scent of your sex as if he’s been bewitched. not even the sound of your silver gladiator heels knocking against one another behind his head can pull the man out of this reverie. despite your warning, your boyfriend figures that there’s still time to have his way with you, you don’t really care about being on time to meet your family and you hardly have the brain capacity to think about them right now.
not when you fall under the vicious waves of ecstasy and give in to your depraved lover. ryomen quickly has you drowning in pleasure as he finally takes the plunge and replaces his thumb on your clit with his lips wrapped around it. he sucks on the little nub from over your panties, tongue glazing the fabricated barrier with his saliva as he commits the taste of you to memory once again. 
your natural musk has sukuna drunk and high within seconds. you’ve got him returning to old habits and addictions he doesn’t have the strength to fight off. you’re bad for him and he knows it, but he can’t help but to make out with your clothed mound like it’s his life’s mission, mapping out the shape of your cunt through the stringy, soiled material. you ought to be embarrassed with the way you throb against sukuna’s eager lips as he buries his face further into your pussy. he inhales sharply, nastily, with his nose nudging against the sensitive treasure in circles — coaxing you open like a flower in the spring bloom. 
ecstasy decides to bloom within you too, evergreen roots taking residence deep within your chest and curling around your beating heart. your pulse quickens in anticipation, an intoxicating veil of covetous yearning shrouding your brain in darkness as the tip of sukuna’s tongue now begins to circle your tight little entrance. even with the fabric in the way, you greedily attempt to clench down on his predatory pink appendage and keep him locked inside your cunt — squirting small streams of your juices in the process. 
if your siblings could see you right now, how dirtily your man begins to ravage you just minutes before your family dinner while dripping on his tongue and the expensive bed daddy paid for, they’d be horrified. the sentiment strikes a pang of arousal in you, spreading to your boyfriend like a wildfire. 
and as ryomen hooks a finger around the soiled gusset of your panties to pull them down, you hardly find it within yourself to care about what your snotty sisters might think — not when you’re about to receive the best head and best orgasm of your life. 
“how d’ya wan’it?” instead of making a move to eat you out properly, ryomen takes two fingers and spreads your folds and exposes them to the blazing heat of his breath. exhaling through his nose next, he watches with blood red eyes as you twitch beneath his hold, dribbling liquid gold more than his mouth drools. “you’re so fuckin’ wet…all this from puttin’ on those pretty shoes?” your thigh shifts in response, heels clicking and back arches from luxury sheets crinkling under your back.
huffing impatiently, you send a threatening look down at your boyfriend despite how vulnerable you are to his torture teeth that could tear you apart in an instant. “ryo…your mouth,” you whinge, voice slipping into an almost babyish tone. despite your hard stare, your eyes are wet and wide like a prey animal watching its life go by right before it’s hunted or a deer in headlights, for that matter. “you promised you wouldn’t t-tease!”
“yeah, yeah, i know. ‘m sorry,” sukuna hums confidently, except he’s not really apologetic in the slightest — hardly doing his best to tame the uncomfortable yearning building up at your core. you’re a mess for him and he loves it, he’s entertained by the thought of you needing him so bad that it might kill you. he takes pride in knowing it’s not just him who feels this way. “thank you for tellin’ me, by the way. gonna use my mouth to fuck this pretty pussy til’ she’s creamin’ all for me,” he growls to you in a sultry tone, his aphrodisiac-like  words a breath’s width away from your sloppy mound — its timbre sound sending tremors of electricity through your swollen, unattended clit that convulses from the lack of attention.
nothing inflates ryomen sukuna’s ego more than the feeling of your sex throbbing against his face — juices glossing the plump swell of his lips as he wraps them around your puffy pleasure nub. his chest bristles as you open up for him like a flower in spring, the scent of your arousal acting like a perfume to him — the bee with the stinger of pleasure. he works his savage mouth along the length of your slit, as though he lacks the manners of a decently raised man, tongue prodding at your entrance just to be mean. after a while, sukuna stops sucking and making out with your dirty, creamy cunt to nip at your titillating folds, taking one between rows of sharpened pearly whites and gently pulling it away from you. 
at the abrupt feeling — you cry out hoarsely in a mix of bliss and surprise, taking a peek at the pink haired man between your spiked thighs with swimming vision. sukuna’s face is soaked, his angled jaw and cheeks and chin glazed in a layer of your slick as if he’s bitten into the ripest piece of fruit in adam and eve’s garden. the trail runs armously down and over his adam’s apple, coaxing your lover into eating you out properly this time. 
finally, finally putting his filthy mouth to good use.
“fuck, i love the way y’drool for me down here. got so much to give, don’cha gorgeous?” sukuna mewls into you whilst kitten licking your slit, drinking you in as though you’re a glass of water in an oasis of lust and sex. he chuckles happily at your dreamy sigh and circling hips that grind down on his face, tapping three fingers against your sticky pleasure bud lovingly. annoyingly ( but not without appreciation from you), sukuna takes it a step further by sloppily kissing you there. 
even with the time crunch, your pleasure takes priority. eating you out is like a reward for your man, it’s as though he was out on this earth by the gods purely to make you see stars. you feel lucky that he chose you out of all he could where he feels blessed to be the man you let touch you like this. 
“mmph, ryo… always g’na be wet f’you. for my man. only you get me this fucked up,” you drawl with a silky voice, making a show of tweaking your own nipples from over your dress for your boyfriend. with the slipperiness of a snake, your hands slide down from between the valley of your heaving breasts, over your clothed tummy ( that twists with knots of ecstasy ) and into the slicked pink locks that tickle your inner thighs. messing up his perfect look, you grip sukuna’s roots and tug on them forcefully — coaxing him further into the debauched realm concealed by the skirts of your dress.  
“princess…” ryomen lets out a pathetic, muffled groan — increasing the pace of the tip of his tongue as it lewdly flicks at your sex. “have you always had such a dirty mouth? what would yer daddy think?”
your head tips back at the new, gratifying sensation — ecstasy mounting in your lower tummy like bricks of a steady wall. “for as long as i’ve been yours,” comes your crazed and melodious laughter, only interrupted by pockets of squelching noises emitted from your squelching cunt. “oh baby…i don’t give a fuck about what my ‘daddy’ thinks. only you. let him stay mad — f-fuck! kuna!”
fuelled by the idea of pissing off your stuck up family, tattooed hands move to grip where your legs bend at the knee — pushing them back until your skirt rides up over your fleshy ass and your knees hit your shoulders and the soles of your shoes are able to lay flat against sukuna’s rippling back muscles. he hisses at the slight sting he feels from the pointed heel digging into his skin through his shirt, but it only fucks him up more. your pleasure is his pain, ryomen doesn’t give a fuck about anything else except for how good his girl feels. 
somewhere amongst the sweat soaked sheets your phone lets out a shrill cry — signifying a call from someone in your spoiled family. without sukuna’s command, you scramble through the sea of stiff fabric peaks and reach for the device, hitting the answer button before checking the contact. 
“h-hello?” you say in a poor attempt to speak clearly, stifling a deep moan. “speak of the devil and the devil shall appear…” comes your shallow whisper as you address your boyfriend. your chest grows sticky with perspiration beneath the bust of your dress — breathing uneven and heavy because of the way ryomen’s tongue wriggles past your tight little hole, squirming about against your lush walls to hit that special spot that has you screaming and seeing stars while on the phone to one of your relatives.
“excuse me, young lady?” it’s your father, much to sukuna’s dismay, his voice is irritatingly recognisable over the crackling of the line. of course he would find some way to unknowingly interrupt yourself and your loving, doting, disapproved boyfriend. “you were supposed to meet your sisters and i for dinner nearly forty minutes ago. where are you?” 
sukuna’s agitation shows with each wet kiss he aggressively places between your swollen folds, nasty and miscalculated whilst designed to leave you a shaky mess.“o-oh! hi daddy,” you emphasise the word, voice rising an octave until its light an airy. your swimming, doe eyes lock with crimson ones that bore into the depths of your soul from below — taunting and testing the pink haired man’s patience. “‘m getting ready. don’t you want me to look pretty?” 
the silky lilt to the tail end of your words causes sukuna to growl against your pulsating, temperate mound while his fingers yank you down onto his handsome face by your meaty thighs. eagerly, your hips canter down to match the stride of his tongue stroking your pretty pussy as though you’re riding his aching cock to your heart’s content. his tongue fills you up almost as good, warmly slipping and sliding over pleasure spots only he can reach. 
he kitten licks and sucks and bites at your raw sex like a wild animal, loudly moaning into you with every roll of your cunt over his face. you taste like heaven, the flavour almost angelic on his tongue. sukuna feels like a sinner with a greedy craving for more and if you cared just a little bit, you might have been concerned about your father catching the lascivious sounds from between your thighs over the phone. 
“i’m past the point of caring about how you present yourself at dinner,” your father says your name stern and low — talking to you as if you’re a child and not the woman you’d grown into. “your sisters are ravenous, they flew all the way into the country for this. don’t you think that they deserve an ounce of your time?” 
losing yourself to the danger of it all, you chuck your phone to the side after putting it on loud speaker. your lover targets your prominent, adorable clit again, the tip of his tongue rolling it in large circles until you’re close to tearing the sheets from the bed. you try your best to contain the scream building up in your throat, but sukuna has never made it easy for you to keep quiet. 
“mph…fuck!” 
“young lady! watch your mouth!” your father scolds you, still blissfully unaware of the fact that you’re getting tongue fucked by the man he hates all the way up to cloud nine. “i bet that good for nothing scoundrel has put you up to this. i keep telling you, no daughter of mine should be with a man like that. where is he? he’s the one making you late.” 
“actually, dad, sukuna’s been a good boy. sitting all handsome in those suits you like. i’m the one making…oohhh…m-making us late!” cruel carmine eyes flutter at your generous praise, lovesick as a sunburn like blush spreads over the bridge of sukuna’s nose from how desperate he is for you. if you tried your hardest to listen in over the wet sounds of your cunt being sucked on for dear life, along with the shaky delectable laments your lover lets out, you might be able to hear the sound of a zipper going down or the slickness of sukuna’s hand around his meaty shaft as he jerks himself off. no longer able to fight off his desire for you. 
your stomach flips at the sight and the pleasure mounts with your impending high, dainty fingers beginning to tug and twist at sukuna’s blushing pink hair. his pain is your pleasure.
“you’ve lost your mind, i didn’t raise you to be like this.” 
“you hardly…hardly raised me at all,” the words feel tacky in your mouth, as if it’s been stuffed with cotton that sucks up your saliva. it doesn’t help that your voice begins to waver too, reaching whistle tone notes. 
ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what’s hotter, the fact that you’re so easily able to sass your rich, douchey father or the fact that you’re letting him give you head while on the phone. “shit,” he curses as low as possible, using one had to smooth the pad of his thumb over the slit in his cockhead — smearing the precum that beads there over the sensitive flesh. his kiss swollen lips part from your sweet sex for only a moment to taunt you. he remains connected to you by a single rope of clear elixir that leaks from your precious little hole. “god, gorgeous. you’re fuckin’ drenched…all from talkin’ back to daddy, huh?” 
a lewd and sacchariferous mewl rumbles from deep in your chest as it rapidly rises and falls. it’s all too much for you to keep up with, you’re way too dizzy and it’s only made worse when sukuna bobs his head between your quivering legs so that his fat tongue drags through the entirety of your ravaged pussy lips. 
“holyfuckingshit!” you shoot the man a  glare once you remember where you are and who you’re on the phone to.
ryomen offers up a cocky smirk as his excuse before delving beneath your silken skirts once more, though it does nothing to mask how turned on he is — squeezing the base of his drippy shaft to stop himself from cumming too soon to the sight of you. 
you try not to forget the presence of your father again, it would be hard to, since he’s insistent on betraying you down the phone. “speak back to me again and i’m cutting you off. starting with cancelling the card you and your mangy boyfriend live off of.” 
“do it, i dare you.” you somehow manage to snap back, jolting at the sensation of sukuna’s razor sharp teeth grazing your clit. he hisses deliciously against your sex as your heels cut pretty crescent moons into his back. “i-i wonder what mom would have to say about it if you…if you did!” 
silence echoes down the line, broken by small pockets of your boyfriend slurping on your folds like a man starved. slurps that you’re just so blessed to be able to hear. you should feel ashamed instead of hungry, doing nothing to tame the greedy beast inside you that craves more and more of sukuna’s attention on you. you must have lost your mind, for letting him eat you out so brazenly while you converse with your father on the phone. it’s so depraved, so dirty and yet you wouldn’t give this… give sukuna up for the world. 
you love him more than anything. love how he treats you like you’re the strongest person he knows whilst handling you as though you’re made of glass. you love how he gets off to you, dribbling thick white from the tip of his cock because you make him a mess enough to need to jerk off. you love how he pleasures you, his baritone laments and simpers muffled against your cunt sending fireworks up your spine and setting them off at your tailbone where your mounting pleasure lies. 
you love ryomen ‘sukuna’ itadori, and no amount of scolding from your father will ever change that. 
“just…just be here within the hour. please.” your father requests quietly. 
“see you soon, daddy,” you hang up the phone faster than a lightning strike, all of your composure flying out of the window with the last dial tone. “ryo, fuck! i’m close… gonna cum. please, hurry!”
“god you’re such a fuckin’ menace, hah, pretty girl?” your pink haired lover quips airily, his jaw tight from flicking his tongue against your sex in sync with his fist flicking around his throbbing dick, slinging precum about the place. he’s amused and love sick all at once, a feeling that was once foreign to ryomen before he met you. “gotcha so turned on by talking back to your dad, yeah? all while i ate this pretty fuckin’ pussy out… so nasty,” only sukuna could make you feel this loved while degrading you, the only man who’s ever been able to do so. none of them could come close to knowing your body like he does, the way you twitch when you’re close and start to pout like a spoilt brat when you’re frustrated from waiting for your orgasm.
sukuna takes the edge off by lifting a tattooed arm and slapping his hand down on the entirety of your cut — letting out a haughty moan at the sight of glistening droplets of arousal flying about the place while your heels drag down his back with delightful pain. you cry out, but your boyfriend’s mouth is back on you in seconds — soothing your poor pussy. “‘m so lucky to have you though, my nasty fuckin’ princess,” he mewls into you, using his tongue to bully your g-spot over and over and over while he fists his precum glazed cock into oblivion. “gonna make you cum, gorgeous girl. let you make a mess in my mouth, you want that?” 
“m-more than anything, ryo!” you wail, fighting back tears as you spew a fresh wave of your sweet nectar from your pathetic hole. you do have a dinner to get to after all, you should only be crying from one place. your cunt. the sound of said squelching cunt and your dulcet whines make sukuna’s balls twitch with a load he would only dedicate to you.  “i love you, love you s’much…love you,” 
the delirium starts to catch up with you, becoming too much to bare as you babble nonsense into the sex tainted air. you can’t hold back, some of your release already beginning to stream out of you. “‘m gonna cum, ryo…cum with me, please!” you squeal in warning, mere seconds before your body succumbs to sukuna’s eager tongue and the wrath of your orgasm. 
“love you too, s’much,” your glittery heels knock behind his sweaty mass of pink hair, cutting into his back as he walks you through it all. “f-fuck baby, that’s it,” he goads as you gush into his mouth like a tidal wave. you have so much to give, release trickling into his mouth, painting his cheeks and sliding down his adam’s apple in a viscous current. sukuna is swept away by the arousal in the air, drinking you in as he pumps his cock harshly and in tune with the way you weakly hump at his face through the aftershocks. 
pulling his sticky mouth away from your equally sticky sex, sukuna replaces his tongue with three of his fingers to your clit — coaxing you through the rest of your high as he draws random shapes on the puffy nub. “keep that orgasm goin’ for me, pretty princess, give it to me…give it t’me while i fill you up,” he rambles brainlessly, abruptly standing up as he fists his cock pulled out from the zipper of his dress pants — barely fighting back his own orgasm. “spread those fuckin’ legs, wanna cum inside.” 
“ryo!” 
“ahh, fuckin’…fuuuck!” in one swift move, your boyfriend slips his sensitive and bulbous cockhead past your quivering, orgasming entrance — shallowly thrusting into your tight heat as you spasm around him, before he’s thrown off the edge into his own high. “c-cummin’…” hot sticky ropes of white seed flood your womb, which sukuna keeps plugged into you as he folds you over — chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. your heels clink at the dip in his waist behind his back. you’re still cumming as languid thrusts smear your boyfriend’s cum against your rippling walls, but you’re content, breathing beginning to even out as you both come down from cloud nine.
still releasing in small spurts, ryomen slowly pulls out of you with soft kisses pressed to the side of your face. “sorry, didn’t wanna fuck up my pants before dinner,” he chuckles over the warm static spreading over your happy little brain. 
you offer him your own dopey laughter, remaining sprawled out underneath your hunk of a man. “so you decide to just jizz inside of me? you’re a class act ryo. what about my dress?” 
“first of all, you don’t like it when shit goes to waste ‘n second off all, i made damn sure that it stuck. your dress is fine, brat.” a chaste kiss is pressed to your nose as sukuna helps you sit up, double checking for any mess he might have left between your shaky legs. “let me clean you up, don’t want your dad findin’ out what we were really up to all this time.” 
“pretty sure he already knows,” you shrug, rolling your ankles as you lean down to fix a strap on your heel. “you’re a messy eater, ryo.” 
but before you can fix your shoe back into place, ryomen sukuna is already on it — adjusting the strap to sit comfortably on your leg before he stands again and retreats to the bathroom for a warm cloth to clean you up with. 
you watch with a smirk as he goes, admiring all of the little red marks on his shoulder blades you’ve left on him with your shoes. “then i guess i’ll have to use some fuckin’ table manners at dinner,” he remarks childishly. “but i can’t help how delicious you look in those heels, gorgeous.” 
and it’s true, you’re the only meal sukuna could ever want — especially when you leave your claim on him with high heels like that. 
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere. special thanks to @yennified for the ask below !
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Are You Bored Yet?
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Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader
Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.
Word count: 8k
Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:
a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️
Masterlist
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12:59 pm.
The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.
Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 
Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 
Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 
With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 
Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 
But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 
One minute. 
Two minutes. 
The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 
1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 
You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.
With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 
“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 
Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 
His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 
“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 
“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 
He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 
“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 
“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 
“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.
Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 
You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 
The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 
He was lucky you accepted bribes. 
~~
“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 
“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 
It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 
“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 
You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 
He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 
You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 
Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 
Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 
You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 
“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 
“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 
You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 
“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 
“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 
Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 
“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 
He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 
You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”
“Something like that.” 
He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 
Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 
You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 
The duality of man. 
It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.
“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 
You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 
“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 
“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 
“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 
“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 
He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 
You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 
“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 
“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 
You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 
“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 
Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 
This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 
“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 
Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 
Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 
Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 
Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 
“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  
You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 
He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 
Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 
“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 
“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 
“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.
Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 
You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 
~~
Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 
Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 
Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 
Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 
Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 
“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 
“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 
The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 
You: Your house is soooo dirty
Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 
After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 
The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 
“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 
The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.
“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 
“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 
“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 
You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 
“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”
Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 
“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 
You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 
Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 
He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 
You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 
And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 
You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 
His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 
“M’not even that drunk!” 
“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 
“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 
“We both know that’s not true.” 
You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 
Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 
“So much.” 
“How much?” 
You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 
“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 
“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 
“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 
His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 
You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 
You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.
Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.
“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 
“You’re so fucking pretty.” 
He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 
“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 
“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 
“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 
Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 
This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 
Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 
But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 
“Are you going to kiss me?” 
Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 
“Would you let me?” he responds. 
“Yes.” 
He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 
But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 
A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 
A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 
“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.
Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.
You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 
You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 
Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.
You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 
You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 
He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 
You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.
That you should be different, somehow.
~~
Bucky: You’re here???
Bucky: Where are you?
Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone
Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 
You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 
You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 
Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 
When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 
Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 
From: University Peer Assistance Program 
Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 
This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 
Thank you, 
University Peer Assistance 
You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.
This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 
But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 
You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 
Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 
Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 
The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 
His mistake. 
That word felt wrong. 
You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 
Ice cream would fix this. 
The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 
Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 
You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 
“Nice outfit.” 
Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 
“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 
He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 
You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 
“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 
“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 
You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 
The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 
You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 
“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 
“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 
“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 
“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 
Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 
You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 
Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 
“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 
“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 
He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 
“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 
He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 
“Please let go of me.” 
The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 
He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 
“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.
“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 
Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”
Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 
When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 
His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 
“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 
The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 
A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 
“Look at me, y/n.” 
You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 
“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 
He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 
“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 
You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 
Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.
He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 
“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 
“Of course.” 
There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 
You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 
“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 
He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 
“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 
“You get harassed all the time too?” 
“No…” 
“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 
“Bucky—” 
“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 
Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 
“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 
A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 
“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”
“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 
“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 
He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 
“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 
“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 
“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 
“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 
“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 
“You ever hear of lying?”
“Why would you—” 
“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 
You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 
It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 
“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 
He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 
“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 
You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 
“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.
“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 
“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 
You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 
His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.
“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 
You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 
“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 
“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”
He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.
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bimbobaggins69 · 3 months
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dreams about my dealer…
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dealer e.m. x fem reader
blurb request: 💌Hey Tori! Hope your day is going lovely 😊 As a request for the vday celebration, could I pls get a blurb where the reader is nerdy and loves reading old cheesy romance novels like these? And one night she falls asleep after reading and she fantasizes about her dealer Eddie as this suave romance hero who sweeps her off her feet and gets her all hot and bothered. And so after that night she starts buying books covers where the men resemble him and he catches on during one of their smoke seshs. You decide how it ends 😉😉 by: @honey-flustered
authors note: This is such a fun request, thank you for sending it in lovely. Hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants a part two of just smut pls lmk cause I’d love to, but ya know I’m trying to blurb here.
all of my works are 18+
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“there ya go, wrap your arms around me, sweet girl. Just like that.” The familiar voice bellows into your neck.
“I’ve got you now, sweetheart.” He murmurs against your flesh this time, sending shivers down your spine. The long familiar hair tickles at your collar bone as his arms wrap tighter around you. This time causing a very needed friction between you and this mystery man.
“Mmm, go ahead angel, make yourself feel good.” He says again before removing his face from the crook of your neck and revealing himself to you.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
You pop up out of bed, removing your sleep mask before you slam your hand down on the obnoxious alarm clock sitting on your side table.
You feel a wetness in your panties when you go to stand up and it’s as if a flash goes off in your mind and you’re taken back to the dream you were just awoken from. Eddie, your drug dealer in nothing but blue jeans, his hair wrapped in a low bun and his big muscular chest dripping with sweat as he held you against his body protectively.
You look back over towards your bed, eyes glancing over the book you fell asleep reading. You couldn’t deny the man on the cover looked pretty close in comparison to eddie, long hair and the same exact attire as he was wearing in your dream. The man had a smirk on his face that was almost identical to the usual smirk eddie always had when you’d buy your weed from him.
later that day you find yourself across town, at your local library; ready to check out any and every dirty romance novel with a man that in some capacity meets your dealers description. You couldn’t believe the crush that formed from one little dream, you’d been festering on thoughts of eddie all day and you need more ammo for these ongoing fantasies and the very welcomed dreams you might have tonight.
You’re able to find five books in total, and you just knew you were gonna whip through them all in one week. There was a hunger in your center that just needed to be satiated, and if you couldn’t have the real thing, then the next best will do just fine.
The next morning, you speed walk through the halls of Hawkins high, binder held tight to your body as you keep your head down just trying to get to biology in one piece, but you’re running late so your feet move frantically as you go over an excuse to give Mr. Sivertson before you breech his classroom door. As you become deeply lost in your thoughts you collide into another body who was rounding the corner, your binder falls out of your hands and on to the floor as the other persons hands catch you by your waist.
“Where’s the fire, sweetheart?” The all too familiar voice fills your ears and you freeze, eyes now level with an ozzy shirt and his statement leather jacket.
Eddie’s eyes glance down towards your stuff that fell into a messy pile between your feet, your heart hammers when he bends down to grab something. The smirk on his face tells you exactly what he’d found and now you just want to run back to where you came from, get in your car and drive to a whole new town.
“Whatcha got here?” He says through a dopey laugh, as if you’d been caught red handed. That’s exactly what’s happening.
“Didn’t think a church mouse like you would read these kinds of books.” He whispers, although you two are the only ones in the hall.
“I-I’m not a church mouse, and give me my book back.” You huff and snatch your book out of his heavily ringed hand, but your face was far too guilty and you knew that eddie knew exactly why you had these books in your possession.
You eventually side step him, not wanting to hear any of his teasing that you knew he’d readily dish out. Eddie wasn’t a bully per say but he was an asshole, a cocky asshole to be specific.
Once you’re out of biology, you speed walk to your locker. Ready to put this godforsaken book away until the end of the day, when you can read it in bed, cuddled up where no one would make fun of you. But as you open your locker a folded piece of paper falls out and hits the toe of your flat. you shove your binder into a cubbie before bending down to retrieve it.
Meet me behind the football field after school
- EM
Your stomach fills with butterflies as it simultaneously sinks into the depths of your ass.
Why would he want to meet up after school? Was he going to poke fun at you? Have you show his friends your book so they could all laugh at you?
But another part of your brain said:
What if this is it? What if he really wants you? Maybe he’ll kiss you? Maybe you can finally feed this hunger.
That was all you needed to make your split decision.
After school, you grab your book from your locker and make a beeline for the football field. Bypassing quick goodbyes from your friends.
When you finally make it to the tree line, you exhale a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, then you take a few deeper steps into the desolate woods. No one else came back here except for one infamous metalhead, so you knew you wouldn’t be met with any asshole jocks. That settled your stomach a bit, but not fully.
You see the back of Eddie’s head first as he sits on the old warped, wooden bench; hunched over as if in concentration. When you move closer, walking around the rickety table you can now see that he’s breaking up a nug of weed and placing it into a zig zag before rolling it up, snug.
Your eyes meet when he glides his tongue along the lining, he smirks up at you as your eyes gawk at the movements of his pink muscle, licking up and down. You can’t help but to squeeze your thighs together, that burning in your core blazes hot and he hasn’t even touched you.
Your eyes flicker back up into his and you realize that he’s watching you, watch him.
In a moment of faux confidence, you ask—
“What’s with the letter in my locker, Munson? I thought I was the one that was supposed to put the letters in your locker when I want to smoke.” You shoot him a weak smile, making him scoff as he puts the joint behind his ear for safe keeping.
“Are you gonna sit your ass down and smoke this with me or not?” He huffs, pulling a zippo lighter out of his leather jacket pocket and flipping the lid open and closed, open and closed. Is-is that a nervous tick? Is he nervous, too?
You lower yourself onto the seat in front of him, taking on your own nervous tick of picking at your nails.
He takes the joint from behind his ear, his eyes never leaving your form and it has you cowering deeper into yourself. He lights the spliff and inhales deep, holding it in for a second and then letting the smoke bellow out of his nose and mouth. You can’t deny how undeniably sexy he is.
“So, those little slutty novels you have—” He starts
“They’re not slutty! They’re romance novels, Eddie!” You screech in embarrassment, as your cheeks heat up from the deep cackle he makes in your expense.
“Yeah yeah, princess. Tell me, do they fuck in these romance novels?” He throws weak quotation marks up for the last two words, as his eyebrows shoot up under his bangs in question.
“Well, I mean…yeah they do.” You respond with a defeated slump of your shoulders.
“Mhm, just as I suspected. Slutty.” The way he sing-songs ‘slutty’ makes you fall into a fit of giggles, and the noise is music to Eddie’s ears.
“So uh, do you want me to make you feel better than those shitty books ever could?”
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moonit3 · 5 months
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A LOYAL BUTLER pt. 2
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➥ warnings/notices: yandere, nsfw, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, afab! reader, male! yandere, dom! reader, sub! yandere, kissing, dry humping, non penetration but smut, I don’t how to write moans so bare with me, implied overstimulation.
➥ synopsis: a party leads to an unexpected moment for you and elliot that makes the relationship even more intimate.
➥ yandere! butler x f! reader
➥ a/n: with the help and guidance of @taeee0902 , im bringing the second part of the story that many of you have been waiting for! keep in minds this is probably the now longest piece of the blog for now, also the most long smut ive write before \(//∇//)\ so im hoping to all of you enjoy this piece as i loved writing this one! also, this is part two of this post! so check it out for some context.
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➥ it’s been a few weeks since you and elliot got closer than ever. letting his hands and lips going over your body during working hours, making you feel relieved after long days of paperwork and making you feel so much pleasure from his hands alone. to think he is doing it almost daily is insane, specially when it’s risky to be caught. one time, elliot touched you in the library, despite knowing there were servants around.
➥ the occasions when he isn’t touching nor speaking dirty things to your ears, elliot still helps with your family’s finances. despite being your lover behind the curtains, he still needs to be a presentable man to keep his job as your personal butler, but also to prevent anyone from finding it out the relationship you two share. elliot knows how many people wants to steal you away from him.
➥ “you are mine, [name]…” his hands holds your waist down to the bed, preventing you from escaping his touch as he teases your entrance. the lovely sounds coming out from your lips and seeing how your eyes are rolling back makes him smile. “none can see you like this but me, do you understand me?” the only thing you could do is nodded, too busy to speak when his fingers entered your hole and too much concentrated to not moan loudly, too focused to not moan out loud of this situation.
➥ and his touchy attitude got more intense with the invitation from an old friend of your late father. a gala where many nobles will celebrate the birth of the new addition of the duke’s family, not a big deal though. however when the party started, noblemen got all over you, asking for your hand and shameless flirting with you, not caring it’s that is against the queen’s words.
➥ i should’ve stayed home…that you keep thinking by every time one of those old men gets closer to you, offering you to become their second or third wife. you can’t believe men like this exist, how can they be this stupid? thankfully, elliot is here to help.
➥ his expressionless face and sharp words were enough to make those men step away from you. because of that, many nobles began to believe that he is the voice of reason of the barony, a harsh and cruel butler who has to help the inexperienced baroness who inherited a large territory, but they don’t know the true, none of them really does.
➥ when it’s the time to leave the party, you decided to go to the bathroom and elliot took the opportunity to arrange the carriage. you give your best at smiling at those nobles for hours and hours, so that’s the barely minimum he can do for you. he was ready to enter the carriage to wait for you, but suddenly a maid calls for his name, one that he recognizes to be working for the party’s host.
➥ despite telling her name, elliot’s mind fail to remember as she talks and talks even more about her admiration for him. it’s an innocent crush, elliot can tell that by how her cheeks gets reds when he pretends to pay attention and how she can’t hold her voice low whatever she speaks about her current hobbies. situations like this are normal, everyone gets a crush on someone else, but this girl is getting off the hook. trying to touch his gloved hand and taking steps to be closer to him, this girl is surely bold or stupid enough to not know her place.
➥ he was ready to yell, maybe making a scene to scold her behavior, but nothing happened as you returned. with a smile on the lips, you make your way to stand next to elliot and dismiss the maid. the tone of your voice is shape and cold, completely opposite of your usual manner. it was efficient and the maid quickly left the scene, but not before staring at you with hateful eyes.
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“my lady,” he is relieved by your arrival, things could’ve been different if you hadn’t arrived in time. “thank you for helping me with that maid.”
the sweet smile on your lips calm him down, “no problem, elliot. its my duty to assure that my closest friend feel uncomfortable.” is that so? your hands goes to his and you get closer to whisper your next words, “before we leave, i need to show you something. follow me~”
and he obeyed you. step by step, elliot walked behind you for a path that he didn’t visit earlier of the duke’s manor as he was too occupied by staying at your side during the party, however you seems familiar with this part of the mansion. have you visited here before? perhaps. after all, every noble knows each other from either arranged marriages or business relationships.
it took a few more minutes til you arrive at the place you wanted to show elliot, a library, where the only living souls around are you and him. the door is closed when he enters after you, there is something around that you want to show him? maybe an ancient book, money or could it be something else?
“elliot.” turning to face you, elliot is surprised by your hands pushing him to sit down an dusty empty armchair. slowly, you began unzipping the back of your dress, revealing the black bra and panties that you are wearing underneath it. what are you doing? this is unladylike of a noblewoman! but why isn’t he stopping you? “is this alright with you?”
he nodded, too busy to talk by the moment your hands hold his face closer to your. feeling your breath to his skin makes the entire world pause for an instant and the soft of your lips on his makes elliot feel the luckiest man to ever exist. the kiss was meant to last seconds, but elliot didn’t want to let go of this magnificent moment, so he pulled you closer with his own hands and kissed you for longer.
it’s a little weird to know that had touched you before in numerous occasions, but it’s just now that you shared a kiss with him, one that left a line of saliva when the two of finally separated. cheeks red and completely breathless, those are the words that describe you and elliot in this situation.
“a-are you—“ you interrupted him with another kiss, but it didn’t last long as elliot pushed you away. “we shouldn’t do this—it’s wrong and unacceptable to a noble lady kiss her servant.”
“really? off all the things we did before, you consider a kiss to be more blasphemy than those times you were in middle of my legs?” a laugh escapes from your lips, trying to minimize the awkward of this situation. “besides, i know you want this too, to take things just a little more further between the two of us.”
the embarrassment of elliot’s face faded with your words. “you want me?” the thought of alone makes him wonder for long you have planned this.
“of course i want you, elliot.” you kissed his neck, dirtying a small part of his white long shirt and smiling at his face. “but i will understand if you wish to pretend this never happened—“
“NO!” he holds your hips closer to his, not daring to let you escape from his grab nor getting up from his lap. “i want this. i want you, [name]…so please, continue to touch me as you wish, my lady.”
“then, i will begin.” you smiled.
with his hands on your hips, elliot guide you to move forward and back on his lap. soft moans comes from his mouth by every time you rub your intimate part closer to his buldge, it’s a new sensation for the butler, one that is making his body feel so good.
your hands on his shoulder makes him smile, this isn’t a dream, this is real and feeling your soft finger touching him is a reminder this whole experience is reality and he won’t ever change this for anything, not even for a fancy title.
elliot can feel that he is close. the moans turned into whimpers and whines speaking your name when his grip is getting weaker, his eyes are full of tears of pure pleasure. he wants to hold it, too make this moment last longer, but he failed to do so.
“ahhhh……mmm~!” one of your hands went to his lips, preventing elliot from moaning out loud to the entire manor, but that didn’t stop him from dirtying his brief and pants. its stick, you can feel as you get up from his lap and it’s visible if anyone pays closer attention. also the look on his face doesn’t help much either. “…[name]…”
things was supposed to end there, at least, that was elliot thought before you kneeling in front of him. before having you unzipped his pants, removing his briefs to take his cock into your hands. he couldn’t say a words, not when his own voice was betraying him by only letting the library’s wall listen to his stuffy moans.
the tears coming from his eye block mostly of his vision, only letting elliot see your blurry hands touching his cock and feeling your tongue licking the head of his member. wait. are you going to do what is he thinking? your lips gets closer to his shaft and then take as much as possible of him inside your mouth.
“ah…” elliot groans, the hand that isn’t preventing the moan from escaping goes to your head, guiding you to take just a little more of him. “hmmmm~”
the base of his cock is getting stoke with your non-dominant hand while the other one is holding his thighs from closing whatever elliot whimpers. your tongue can already taste the precum coming from the tip and he is already telling you to stop, saying that you shouldn’t drink it, that is dirty to a lady like to do it, but you don’t hear him.
and for a last time tonight, elliot whimpers as he finally came over and in return, you take it all inside your mouth. not a single drop escape from your lips as you smiled after drinking it all, impressing elliot in the process.
“elliot~” you still between his legs, holding his still hard cock in your hands. “are your ready for another round?”
“y-yes, [name].” he stuttered.
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hiding behind one of the many pillars of the manor, a maid stares at the library’s door, waiting for two people to step out and to caught them for staying after the party was finished.
“my lord won’t like this at all.” a smile crept into her lips, already imagining the many scenarios of the baroness and her butler getting scolded and gaining some extra money for it. “and i might get a chance with that guy afterwards.”
the maid stood there for at least an hour or so before the door finally opened, revealing the two individuals she was hoping to see, but instead of calling their attention or some knight to scolded them, her body freeze by what she notice of them.
lipstick marks on the butler’s neck, a tiny drop of white fluids on the noble woman lips and what made her too stunned to speak…they are holding hands! a member of the high society being touchy with a mere commoner, isn’t that wrong? she was supposed to say something or at least call someone to shame them in the public eyes, but she just stood still, watching the two walking away to the entrance.
the baroness and her butler smiled to each other when stepping out of the duke’s manor, happily to their relationship getting more intimate and to the maid who was too scared to do something against them.
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@moonit3 writings
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mamayan · 4 months
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Yandere! Dark Fae King x Darling! Changeling (Part 2)
Part 1 (Here)
cw: NSFW • Sub! Reader • Dom! Yandere • Dark/Yandere Themes • Gore/Death • Monster Fucking • Fae • Kidnapping/Imprisonment • Dubcon • Fem! Darling • Dumbification • Praise • Overstimulation • Pheromone Drugging/Aphrodisiac • Manipulation • Breeding
A/N: Upon multiple requests and asks, I’ve decided to expand and make a part 2 for Avarice and Darling’s story. Enjoy♥️
“Freak!”
“You should be ashamed to be alive! When your own sister died, how dare you appear here!”
“Jinx.”
“I hope you die worse than she. Poor soul…”
You snapped out of it when he finally left again. The nightmares of your past seemingly haunting you as the death of so many rested on your shoulders.
Your fault. It was always your fault, wasn’t it? That’s what you were after all. A jinx.
Ava… he haunted you more than anything. His eyes so dull as of late but you couldn’t find it in yourself to assure him of forgiveness you did not want to give. You’d said horrible things to him though, when he’d confessed to killing your entire village due to your pressuring. He killed your family, or at least, the only family you knew. He killed the women and children, the old and innocent. Ava had no discretion when it came to slaughtering humans.
“Of course I love you! You’re my little sister, why are you asking me such a silly question so late?” Your human sister had looked so befuddled when you’d questioned her love for you. It must’ve been a rebellious phase, for she raised you and your younger human siblings much like a mother should’ve. The mother which birthed your siblings and the child swapped for you had lost herself to alcohol and gambling, her husband and your father too loyal to leave her despite the pit she began to dig for the entire family.
Your fault.
“Come eat. This sickness of her’s seems to be affecting us all. Father shall return with a fresh kill, I’ll make a stew. You like deer stew right?” You hated it but nodded anyway, your sister’s cooking so awful it even made your father’s eyes water but… “I do. I love it… and I love you too.” You’d replied, and it was the warmest moment you remember in that small wooden house.
You’d picked your nail beds bloody, eyes numbly staring at the broken skin and wondering why it wasn’t telling you the right answer. What were you supposed to do? You couldn’t leave, even if you wanted to, and that was the problem. You didn’t want to leave Ava, because aside from your deceased sister, he was the closest living creature to your heart. He owned part of your soul now too, but you could feel him in you too. It wasn’t one sided, and while Ava certainly was full of cruelty, you knew him capable of care. He cared for you, his people and subjects, and his kingdom.
So why did he do it? Harm so many? Oddest of all, why did he abhor humans to much? He wouldn’t answer anything you asked, merely stating it was a necessity, that they needed to die, or be cleansed as he’d phrased it. You had loved a human dearly though, her memory still filling you with the familiar taste of warmth and overcooked venison. She was not a sister by blood but through life and trust.
Would Ava have killed her too?
You could only wonder endless dark halls of a castle you never saw an exit to. The windows revealing what appeared to be an entire kingdom below, built into a forest much like in tales of your childhood. This was a community, one which you now shared responsibility to help grow and flourish.
You didn’t feel like you were home though.
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“Look at me.”
He’s impossible to ignore.
“I will force you if I must.”
You turn, giving the barest of glances upward, head forced to tilt completely back to meet his dark golden eyes. He, in all his immortal and frightening glory, looks tired. You admit it makes something within you ache to see it, but you aren’t ignorant to the fact that you look tired as well.
“You are not sorry at all… are you?” His lips press tight, eyes narrowing a fraction as he cocks his head, a few dark curls spilling like waves to follow the movement. He stalks closer like a predator, and even now, when you know he intends no physical harm to you, it raises your instincts to run. His towering form lowers to the floor where you’ve seated yourself, endless marble surrounding you in an empty ball room, the enormous glass window you’ve opened allowing fresh air in.
“Do you wish me to apologize for eliminating those vile creatures… or for upsetting you?” He cracks a rueful smile, teeth all sharp edges and eyes hardened by your distance. “If it is the latter little flower, then I sincerely am apologetic, I never wished to upset you.” You can tell he’s sincere, see it even, but something still nagged at you that wouldn’t leave.
“Ava…” his full attention is trained on you, “Why do you hate them? What did they do to you?”
His wings shift as he settles himself fully on the ground with you. An image unbefitting of a King yet also suiting him as he leans back on his palms and directs his gaze at the tall ceiling above.
You liked the sight of moonlight bathing him more than candle.
“I thought I loved a human once.”
You flinch, despite knowing it must’ve been so long ago, it stung nevertheless. He twitches, as if to move towards you before he stops himself and settles again, talons scraping along the floor as he continues.
“That human used my youth and ignorance against me and destroyed my entire existence for a time. I lost my position as a rightful heir and prince, lost my home and family, and lost my freedom. I stayed alone a very long time little Faery,” his gaze slides to you, glowing molten gold in rage as he remembers. “All alone, because I did the one thing no Faery is allowed to do, the most forbidden art which exists amongst our kind, all for one measly deceitful human.” His lips pull back in a grimace, even as you crawl a little closer.
He likes that your gaze is upon him again, filled with that familiar compassion and empathy he adores. He just loathes it is directed at him because of his disgusting past.
He watches as your tongue dips out to lick your lips, eyes filled with curiosity as you sit beside him, close enough to nearly touch yet not quite.
“What was it?”
“I granted them access to the Tree of Life. The tree which gave birth to all Faery kind.” His expression turns mocking, jaded as he seems to recall with perfect memory. “I had been ready to pluck the stars from the sky for that filthy ungrateful thing, and they dared to use me to gain eternal life by drinking from the tree’s fountain.”
He sees the look of astonishment and horror, clearly upset as realization dawns. It was said the Tree of Life would die if touched by human hands, destroying all of Faery kind should it occur. If it was true or not was unknown.
“…they touched it…?” You broke the dense silence first, curling your limbs around yourself as you feel the itch of your wings notify you of the awkward arch you’ve made with your spine.
Ava barks a dry laugh, dark amusement sparking in his eyes despite the serious story.
“Of course not little flower. My younger sister killed them before they could dare, becoming a hero for all Faery alike for protecting the race against a treacherous prince and a foul greedy human.”
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He’s amuses himself with watching you through a small handheld mirror. Decorated in gold and jewels, the delicate ornate trinket has a spell cast to view his target at will.
You were asleep, tired from the seamstresses which had fussed so long over your dresses and you, face peaceful as you rest on the large expanse of his bed.
You sleep where he awoke this morning. Curled into the spot like you’re attempting to reclaim any warmth left over from his own slumber.
“You’re making quite a disgusting face, your majesty~” his eyes narrow as his mood sours in an instant.
“Leave witch.” He hisses, undisguised displeasure painting his sharp features as they scrunch in revolution.
“Make me faery,” a lithe feminine voice hisses back, his eyes finally lifting to acknowledge the vermillion haired woman which had appeared before him. “What has you making such a warm expression? I nearly lost my breakfast seeing it.” She glides more than walks, shamelessly spreading the floor length fur coat wrapped around her open, sitting on the arm chair of his throne.
“And your presence is going to make me gouge your eyes out and feed them to my hounds,” he flashes an equally unfriendly smile, the air becoming volatile towards the witch.
“Don’t act as if I wish to be here anymore than you wish it. You were the one who requested my potion.”
“Your potion not your presence.”
Dark eyes roll with a flutter, her red painted lip curling in disdain as she snaps her fingers, a small wooden box appearing in her palm.
“It cannot be delivered frivolously faery, or so you trust your servants so deeply?” He doesn’t answer.
She laughs, handing the box over with a smile as he pulls out a silver dagger and plunges it into his forearm.
Gold leaks from the wound, the witch quickly frowning and removing an empty vial to collect the liquid.
“Don’t be wasteful now, your blood is in high demand amongst my coven. It’s an incredibly binding agent.”
“Silence or I will bind your tongue for all eternity.”
“As if you could.” She cackles, vanished and gone before his talons could sink into her throat.
The box rests in his free hand. His distaste for the witches strong, but he admits they create the most potent and stable magical concoctions. They’re good in business too. He notes she didn’t allow a single drop of blood to go to waste before his wound sealed and closed.
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“Drink for me, petal.”
You look lovely. Dressed lavishly in the finest silks and slowly becoming more confident in your true appearance. You no longer sit before the mirror and grimace, instead you play absently with your wings, more accepting as time continues.
He would rather just take you by force.
This method somewhat feeling beneath him, but in the end, he was already a wicked monster. What was this compared to his true nature?
You still curl or turn away when he touches you, less trusting of him now and though you should be, he finds it irritating. He wants to feel you melt against him again, blink your pretty eyes up at him and whisper his name with your kiss bitten lips.
You eye the delicate glass cup warily.
His clawed hand holding the pretty pink clear cup was nearly comical. He could tell by the quirk of your lip which you quickly tempered to avoid his detection. He caught it all though, still hoping he’s not forced to make you drink it. Though he doesn’t mind the act, pouring the drink in his mouth and laying his lips over your own to create a seal.
You take the cup gingerly with both hands, licking your lips as you bring it close to sniff.
“What is it…?” You look confused, nose scrunching up adorably, and he finds he wishes to kiss you there.
He’s forced to stay where he is though, aware you will wiggle and run if he touches you.
“Tea, made from milk, honey, and dried fruits.”
“It smells sweet…” you still eye him with mistrust, but you take a sip anyway, eyes lighting up as you take another. “It’s very good,” you’re not immune to bribery, “Thank you.”
For just a short moment, he feels his chest warm and a genuine smile grace his lips.
“You’re welcome, little flower. Thank you as well.”
“Huh?” You’ve finished the tea. “What for…?” His smile grows as you tilt your head in confusion.
“For being so foolish.”
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You’re burning from the inside out. Tears and drool soaking your face and the bed as you cry out again.
“Why?” Digging your nails into the fabric, you find the texture appalling compared to usual, too rough and cold. “Ava…” you struggle to breathe, chest heaving as perspiration clings to you like a second skin. “It hurts…” you were fading into a blur of dizziness as your lower belly cramped again, more wetness coating your inner thighs.
“Shh…” he coos, ignoring your weak flinch as he slides his long tongue from your chin to your cheek, drinking your tears as his chest rumbles like a giant cat. “Do you need something sweet girl? Use your words.” He murmurs, groaning as he sees the amount of fluid you’ve leaked, your pussy swollen and glistening as you buck your hips and whine.
“Mean—!” He chuckles at your accusation, smiling shamelessly as he continues his chaste kisses against your skin.
“To you, petal? No, mean would be if I left you like this, no release for your poor little body.” He threatens, ignoring your silent pleas and body language for him to touch you more, keeping just enough distance to have you clawing at him to come back. “I’m nice though, I’m going to kindly fill your womb and make it all better.” It’s like a demon whispering in your ear as you writhe beneath him. His large frame cages you though, presses down on you as your bare chests connect and you can feel the thundering in his rib cage through your own. “Are you going to be good and let me breed you, little feary?”
You can’t think. Not when the promise of something hot and big going inside you, stretching you out like your body is begging for now. You nod, mind already gone as your clouded eyes connect with his own. You look high, pupils blown as he brings two fingers to his lips, opening his mouth and breaking off two of his sharp claws to blunt them.
“Spread your legs.” You obey, pliant body opening at his commands as he uses his fingers to dig into your slick gooey hole. He delights in your moans and reactions, hips moving for more friction as he fucks your tight entrance loose enough to take his cock inside you. “That’s it, petal, you don’t need to think anymore. Let go for me,” he murmurs, kissing you gently, tongue melting into your mouth while he digs his fingers up and rubs until you’re coming around his digits.
He pulls them out slowly, eyes drifting down to catch the sticky wet mess you’ve made and the jump of his cock in response. He laughs, deeply to his core as he brings them to his lips and lets you watch him clean them, blissed out expression marred with tears from pleasure and pain.
“You’re mine. For eternity, you will be always be mine.” His eyes are wild, something frightening entering them as he laughs, face so pleased and enamored you feel the urgent sense to crawl away from him, to run. “There is no escaping me. No where you can go that I won’t find you.” You feel too weak and sluggish to move, to even fight back, as his dark hand wraps around your neck, magic and gold swimming beneath his flesh. He feels warm, hotter than even you and your feverish mind. “I am no longer a patient a male, no longer content to wait and watch for results. You deny me, your mate, for humans which wanted to sacrifice you to a false deity, planned to rape and defile you,” he’s squeezing tighter, not cutting off air but blood flow instead as your mind becomes fluffy and unfocused. He speaks directly into your ear, the pointed tip curling down as he settles himself between your thighs. “They wanted to burn you, did you know? They called you a jinx, hated you, only wished you harm and destruction in the most vile and painful ways… and yet you still choose them?” He looks mad, smile filled with malicious intent and eyes glittering like jewels.
You speak with what little focus you have left…
“My sister…loved me.”
His smile falls, eyes narrowing in displeasure.
“Always…she loved me.”
He shakes his head, disapproval clear. “You think she loved you. Humans aren’t capable of love, my sweet flower.”
“You’re wrong…” he halts, watching as you weakly claw at his hold on your neck. “She loved me..! I know she did! You’re wrong! Take it back!” You cough as he releases your throat completely, eyes wide as you look at him with burning resentment even so deep under the influence of an aphrodisiac.
“I love you, but you,” you look filled with hurt, “you don’t love me.”
He’s shocked into silence as you seethe beneath him, face firm and eyes resolute as you declare his feelings for you.
He snarls, snapping his teeth at you, rage filling him as his wings spread out and magic and malice fill the air.
“I am not afraid to punish you, petal. I will not tolerate disrespect—,”
“Neither will I!” Even in tears, shaking as you are, he shifts back, the overwhelming force of your emotions startling him. “You treat me as if I am not worthy of respect, as if I’m not worthy to be listened to. You aren’t—,” you heave for air, struggling to draw in enough oxygen as you whirl on him, “—asking me. For anything. You just take…”
He’s silent, body frozen and tense as he watches you.
“Was it all a lie… when you said you’d be my friend? I thought faery couldn’t lie,” you’re in tears once more, sorrow endlessly streaming down your cheeks.
“No, don’t cry like that,” he feels oddly sick seeing you so upset like this. His frame once more curling around you, but to simply wrap you in the blanket and bring you to his chest. “We are friends, mates, I do not lie.” He whispers, cradling your body to his chest, trying to urge you to look at him.
“Friends don’t sneak away and do things that they know I wouldn’t like,” you calm after a while, swollen tear streaked face turned into his chest while he pets your hair.
He knows it must be painful, still under the effects of the drug he’d given you. His touch helping ease some of the heat.
“Okay. Okay, I was wrong, I…,” his teeth bare as he forces it past his lips, “I apologize…for not respecting your wishes…,” it makes him want to tear one of his hearts out and crush it. His hatred for humans no less despite his apology.
You look hopeful though, eyes returning some of the light he adores within you.
He’ll apologize everyday if he’s allowed to see that.
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“Oh gods…!”
He’s trying to kill you. He must be.
You can’t struggle away though, no escape in sight, and true to his word Ava has filled your womb over and over again. You’re delirious on the pleasure, the second his heavy cock had entered you the earlier burning pain subsided into mind numbing euphoria. Each powerful snap of his hips has your body jolting upward, one large palm wrapped around your neck keeping you anchored. You could feel every vein and inch searing into you, eyes going in and out of focus on him face as he heaves for air and fucks you into another orgasm.
“Please, more, I need more—!” You’re reduced to a tearful mess, wantonly begging for his seed as he grimaces and fills you up again, balls drawing up tight as your cunt ripples around his length.
His face is ruined, eyes more red than gold as his pupils remain blown out, thick lashes holding a small cluster of tears as he licks his lips and continues his ravenous pace inside you. His hair clings to his face and horns, black curls damp with sweat and your cum, taking on a nearly purple hue. He wears a delirious expression like you, drugged out into oblivion as you both pant and moan as the heat devours you.
He’d felt badly for drugging you, especially as you writhed and cried in pain. His solution had not been to find the witch he’d bought the elixir from though.
He’d simply drank the remaining fluid while smiling mischievously.
“Let’s just fall into complete depravity petal,” he’d said, before your world went in and out of darkness. Only the scent of sugar and spices dominated your brain, and the feeling of fullness and completion each time he spilled his load within you.
“Are you ready for another sweet faery?” He knew you couldn’t answer, knew that words were too far away for your cotton filled mind to conjure. He asks anyway, drawing your hips off the bed, leaving your upper body limp on the soaked silks while he bounces you on and off his cock. “I’ve always known it is hard for Fae to conceive.” He speaks with a slur, as if it is liquor intoxicating him and not a lustful spell. He laughs as you cum around him, moan so breathy it appears like a silent scream as your back arches higher. “I have a good feeling it will not apply to us.” He nods, slamming down to the hilt as he collapses on you while he comes too, nose buried in your collar bone as he humps out his remaining seed and presses deep to ensure it stays.
“I think your little cunt likes being bred, gripping me so tightly so I can’t leave it,” he huffs, breathing labored as he sees you’ve lost consciousness again.
“Looks who’s mean now…” he murmurs tiredly, but his smile is fresh as he licks up your sweat and tears, cock already hardening again as blood swims in his ears like a river.
“I can’t anymore—!” It’s a squeal and a whine mixed, as Ava grunts against your throat.
“Can’t what, petal?” He asks rhetorically, humming as he slowly rolls your hardened nipple between two clawed fingers. His free hand between your legs, messily rubbing your clit as he works his cock inside you. His thrusts are no longer as violent or heavy as they were two days prior when he’d taken the drug, but his body still howled to press you flat and fill you up. To mark his mate up for all to see.
You look divine to him, too weary to even bite him anymore, nails broken from scratching at his back and arms when he’d blacked out and taken you too roughly. Even still, you looked beautiful, skin less sweat soaked and more simply damp, his care to ensure you drank water paying off in between rounds of riding him.
“I think your cunt has finally relaxed,” he teases, enjoying the sloppy squelching which echoes as he drives into you, your pussy indeed finally accepting it’s fate to be subjected to his cock for eternity. “Your womb has dropped too,” his hand stops torturing your clit to press on your lower belly, purring as you weakly complain.
“Let me rest…”
“No. I took the drug later than you, so it’s still in effect for me.” He chuckles, merrily still using your exhausted body. “Just a little more sweet girl, be good for me,” he moans, head falling back as his eyes close in bliss, cock twitching once again to fill you up.
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“I truly am…with child?” His eyes are as wide as your own, cradling you close away from the vermillion haired woman who sneers at Ava.
Rolling her eyes, she nods, fingers pressed to her temples as if her mind is aching.
“Yes. You are with child, as I’ve confirmed four times already. Congratulations little Queen, you managed to love the unlovable.”
“Watch your tone and words witch,”
“My race is not an insult you foul monster—!”
They halt as you giggle, features radiant as you smile and hold your hands over your belly.
“A baby!” Ava is stricken at your delight, throat closing as something sweet tickles him inside. Your floral scent warmer these days, his keen hearing picking up on the second beating of a heart quickly.
“Yes,” he nods, like a love sick dog he grins and answers each time your repeat it in amazement.
The witch truly feels revolted to her core, but wordlessly leaves a book for new faery parents. Leaving without thanks as the happy family gushes over the good news.
As if the disgusting King didn’t know how powerful an aphrodisiac and fertility drug he used on his mate was.
She shrugs, teleporting away to her coven to return to work, minutely pitying the poor faery captured by the dark Fae.
They’re the only fae that can lie after all.
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Dividers/@cafekistune
1K notes · View notes
irndad · 1 year
Note
hi im back! okey so def can see spencer still wanting to hug and snuggle with you even when fighting or mad at each other. he even gets genuinely ??? confused ??? when you try to sleep on the couch instead of in bed at night. he holds you and either reader or him is like "i know we are snuggling right now but i am still super pissed off at you." lol i can just see it. he may be petty when mad but he wont stop trying to touch you bc its a biological need of his and no argument is more important than needing you 🥺
enjoy this I did it very fast!!!! ily
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He knows he’s not easy to be with sometimes. She would never say it, but it’s true. He doesn’t always get the jokes, sometimes pushes things too far and without even knowing it the ground gets pulled out from under him. 
And sleep- Sleep is so complicated. The memory of the first time she slept in his bed is etched into a place he could never erase. Spencer had always had trouble sleeping, either fear or alertness plaguing him into the late hours of the night. He used to lie awake, the kind of exhausted that feels like it’s seeping out of your bones, while constantly facts he’d unwittingly memorized about how sleep deprivation can cause brain damage. 
But then she’d come into his life. All soft words and gentle disposition, and there really is something magic about the way that everything just dissipates when her warm, soft body curves into his own. He’s slept well almost every night since. 
Except today, she isn’t coming to bed. 
It’s his fault, and he knows it. He wasn’t being fair. She hadn’t seen him for two weeks (and he hadn’t slept nearly enough without the weight of her form beside him since the last time he saw her) and she’d said that she wanted to be prioritized more. 
“I haven’t seen you in weeks, Spence!”
His head was killing him. Was it actually possible, for a headache to kill you? Her voice is audibly upset, and it’s alarming how he could be the cause of it. 
“Please,” he had said through labored effort, “Can we talk about this later?” 
“When would you like to talk about it? Because I don’t ever know if you’re leaving-“
“Do you even know what it is that I do?  That it’s not a choice for me to go? I have to do this. I can’t pick and choose and honestly, I don’t want to. If you don’t get that, we’re not doing what I thought we were doing.”
It sounds foreign, his own voice. And it’s after he’s said it that the sick taste reaches his throat because oh, that means the end. Her lovely face is unreadable for a brief moment, before something like grief splays over her expression.
It’s silent for a beat, and Spencer wishes he could swallow the words back up, rewind his life like a battered VHS tape where he’s not so stupid to mess up the one thing that’s ever brought him peace.
“You’re not yourself, Spencer. I’m gonna give you a minute.”
A minute, it turns out, is hours in the living room. She hadn’t left, thank fucking god, but she hadn’t come back. Of course she hadn’t. She wasn’t the one who needed to apologize. 
He’s just so tired. 
He thinks of her so-sweet voice, the curve of cheek- the junction of her neck and shoulder, and how much he would like to have her pressed against him. He pads out into the living room like a nervous puppy, and sees her sleeping on the olive green couch she had picked out. Her hair was splayed across the arm of the sofa, and her head laid on a throw pillow, their fuzziest blanket draped across her form. 
His first thought is how low he’s dropped, that he’s jealous of a blanket. 
His second his that she is not coming to bed. He sits beside her gingerly, and the scent of her body wash lingers in the air. 
“Are you planning on coming to bed?”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He can tell she wants to sound cold, but the truth is much worse; she sounds guarded. 
“I always want you to.” It’s the most honest thing he’s said today, and it’s just not fair, how much he revolves around her. How he has waited 14 days, 13 hours and 34 minutes to hold her again and managed to ruin it within the first 20 minutes of having seen her again. He grabs her hand, soft and pliant against his in a way that almost makes his heart leap. “Please? Come to bed?”
Her gaze softens, the warmth and light that guides him back in her eyes, and he hopes his relief isn’t too visible. It’s then that she drinks him in. It feels too revealing like she can see right through him. His clothes are old. He’d rushed off the jet to see her, and the half moon circles under his eyes only lend to the unimpressive picture of himself. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, touching the side of his face. He instantly leans into it, the contact more than he’d be willing to give up to save his dignity. “Come here.”
She wraps her arms around him, and he pulls her into his lap, squeezing her tight to his chest, like she might disappear. 
“I’m still mad at you,” she says, looking at him with such affection it betrays her words.
“That’s okay,” he says into her collarbone, “As long as I still have you.”
7K notes · View notes
fever-fluff · 5 months
Text
Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All
Synopsis: You’re sick of Cassian and Rhysand sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. And Azriel’s tendency to let things slide when it comes to himself isn’t helping. Word Count: 4k (not proof read)
“I just think you’re becoming a bit…”
“A bit what, Cass?” Azriel was not in the mood for this. Sitting in Rita’s, in a booth right to the back while his two brothers pestered him on his love life was not how he wanted to spend the night after he’d returned to Velaris. You had been absent from his bed when he’d finally made it back in the early hours of the morning. Though he wasn’t worried. You had duties to attend to for Rhys as one of his foreign relations advisors, normally starting as soon as you woke in order to enjoy your evenings free of work to spend with him- even if he was the one still doing paperwork.
“Don’t you think she’s a bit too… extreme?” Azriel snarled at Cass’ blatant insult to you. But he held his hands up in peace, Rhys cutting in before he could do more damage. “What we’re trying to say, Azriel, is that it seems like you aren’t yourself lately. You’ve been showing up more recently, which is not a bad thing and we’re happy to see more of you. But it’s the reason of these increased showings that has us worried.”
Azriel supposed it was true. He had been showing up more – to social events that is. He was always present when it was just their inner circle, but the regular accepting of invitations to social events that didn’t need his presence was a new thing, something that you had gently insisted on since the two of you had become so close.
He was never one for meaningless interactions and had been pushing himself outside of his comfort zone for quite some time now by giving in every time you looked at him, pleading with those eyes of yours. He could never quite say no when you asked, and begged him, so nicely. But he nodded all the same to the two that he understood what they were trying to say, “I guess. I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal. It makes her happy.”
“That’s the thing Az. Sure, it makes her happy. But does it make you?” Cass was trying, really trying not to say the wrong words and have this blow up in his face. Azriel thought for a moment, of all the times he’d watch you interact with others he didn’t even know the name of, never mind their importance to your work, while you linked your arm around his and had him trail along. He was always uncomfortable in the light, always wanting to slink back to the shadows. But you were the opposite, always blooming so lovely in the presence of everyone you deigned to offer your time to. He sometimes wished he could coddle you away from all their adoring eyes and have you all to himself. But he would never cage you like that.
“Not particularly. I do it for her, but sometimes I would rather sit at home while she goes about her work.” His admission was quiet, feeling that if he said it too loud it would carry on the wind and into your ear as you slept.
“What we’re trying to say, brother, is that spending your life with someone is all about compromise. You need to tell her when you don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” Since when has Cassian ever been so wise and all-knowing? He’d bet five gold marks Nesta had whipped that piece of sense into him after he’d thrown another of her books out the window, insisting on ‘a lovely stroll through Velaris’ instead. Azriel knew he was just jealous of the new male protagonist in her recent book series, garnering all her attention throughout the day.
But Cassian’s words had stuck in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Had he been compromising on his comfort for your own? You’d never pressed the issue with him, but he supposed he’d not put much of a front up against it in the past, agreeing almost immediately every time you’d asked for his company.
“You know I respect her and the work she does” Rhys had ordered another round as they settled in for the night of drinking ahead, “she’s one of the best at her job that I’ve ever seen, placating Eris is a testament to that. But she is intense, she has to be. I don’t want that to jeopardise you or your happiness with her in any way in the future. Putting up boundaries with her now is the best way to do that.”
Azriel knew his brothers had always had his best interest in their hearts when it came to things like this. Rhys’ intervention between him and Elain on Solstice years ago was a testament to that. He would have been hurt in a way he would never have come back from. Elain and Lucien’s bond was one of the strongest he’d ever seen – even rivalling that of Rhys and Feyre’s once given the chance. Then he’d met you. You had courted him from the minute you’d met, and he’d preened under the attention he’d longer centuries for. You weren’t his mate; no bond had snapped for him in the time he’d gotten to know you. But he’d worked past that and found that someone choosing to be with him purely of their own volition made it much harder to doubt whether he was worthy of you or not.
So, as they drank on, Azriel let their words mill over in his mind, finally agreeing with their concerns, and decided tomorrow he’d tell you how he really felt about all the parties you were asking him to attend.
Waking up to a hungover Azriel was a rare sight, but an amusing one none the less. You’d gone to bed last night early after reading a note he’d left, saying Rhys and Cass had asked him to drinks to catch up after being away for three months. You were upset, naturally, as you hadn’t seen him either during that time. But Azriel was a people pleaser, and he’d accepted their invitation with no qualms. So instead of wallowing in self-pity of not spending the first night with him back falling asleep in his arms, you had invited Mor and Feyre over to take your mind off it.
They’d left soon after midnight, Feyre wanting to get back to Nyx seeing as his father would be away most of the night. But all those sour feelings had left the second you’d awoken curled into his strong, tanned arms this morning.
Trying to shift in his hold, you’d felt him curl further into you with a groan, wing casting over the two of you to block the ray of sun peering in between the curtains. You laughed, sending a small gush of magic to pull it closed, cutting the bright light off. His hum of appreciation vibrated against your neck while you reached to play with the tresses of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. It was getting long again – which you preferred on him – but he’d cut it soon now that he was home.
“Good morning, love” you’d never tire of the purr the name elicited from the Illyrian warrior beside you, and it rumbled lowly as he reached into your touches further. “How were drinks with Cass and Rhys?”
“Long. Too long. Wanted to come home to you.” his voice, gods his voice. You loved it, the deep tones in the morning unlike anything else you’d ever heard.
“Yeah? I should have realised I’d need to rescue you, nab you back to have you all to myself.” One thing you’d realised in pursuing the Shadowsinger was his need for directness. His heart had been torn so many times that it wouldn’t beat for anything else. And you’d been more than happy to provide.
The morning was slow, full of sweetness and adoration you’d both been missing in his absence. Neither of you had been pressed to rise before noon until your stomach had grumbled its dislike of the lack of food. And so, you’d found yourselves sat at the small table in front of the windows overlooking Velaris, coffee and pastries in hand.
Azriel had woken from his drunken haze, and appeared caught in his own world, more so than usual as you noticed him missing the handle of his mug, for the second time. “Something on your mind, my love.”
His sigh was enough to know you wouldn’t like what he had to say, and your mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts of Rhys already assigning him to another mission far from home. “I swear on all that is good if that High Lord of yours assigned something else to you last nigh-”
“He hasn’t. And don’t forget he’s your High Lord also.” Azriel hated when you spoke against any decisions made by his family, which was rare. You were on the same page as them, mostly. But there were some things you disagreed strongly on. Not always living in Velaris had given you another taste of the world, and it faired well for you in your work here. But there were times when it caused temporary rifts between you and your friends, and you weren’t inclined to change if it could be solved with words instead of blades. But when it involved Azriel, you found yourself more and more inclined to picking up something sharp and slicing it into anything that wanted to steal him from you.
“We were… talking. Last night. About a couple things.” Azriel was not as sweet with words as his brother, but to see him lose them completely was new altogether. Putting the pieces together from the non-existent puzzle he’d left for you, you felt your breath hitch slightly, “About us?”
“Yeah…” you didn’t like this Azriel. The unsure and unconfident kind. He had a silent strength you’d admired since the first time you’d met. You’d fallen in love with the male that wasn’t this, and you hated seeing him act like anything lesser than he was.
“Azriel. Whatever it is, please speak to me about it. I want to know.” You’d moved from your chair, coming to sit on the side of his as you laid your hand next to his, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. But the warmth that encased yours was comfort enough to know it wasn’t something that would break the two of you.  
“I – don’t want to go to the – social events anymore.” Your brows pinched in confusion, where was this coming from? “Care to tell me why?”
“I’m not a fan of them. At all really. And I realised I was doing something that wasn’t making me happy. It made you happy, which I’m glad, but I can’t do it anymore. S’ too much.”
You watched Azriel retreat into himself at the admission, but you said nothing as you saw his gaze flicker over the room until it finally landed on you, searching for any anger, or hurt. “If you think I’m angry, I’m not. I understand what you mean, and I’m glad you could tell me.”
“You are?”
You huffed a laugh, “Yea, I am. So long as they’re your thoughts and not your brothers, right?” he nodded, “They are.”
“Okay, no more unnecessary social outings, for you at least. I’ll still have to attend them, considering.” He nodded again, “of course, I wouldn’t assume otherwise.”
You kissed him lightly as you made to get ready for the day, the conversation ending quicker then it began. These mornings were all you really had alone with him, both your professions taking up the rest of your days and swallowing the majority of the daylight- and twilight.
He’d winnowed soon after from the garden after kissing you goodbye, seeming lighter now that he’d voiced his discomfort, and you released a sigh you’d been holding since.
There was a party in three days, one you’d assumed Azriel would attend with you. But now that he’d expressed his feelings about them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Instead, you’d prepare yourself for the emotional and verbal onslaught to come without the Shadowsinger by your side.
You hated these things. Really, really hated them. being in a room full of fae looking to raise their status, their family name in the long list of nobles was always a tiring feet to be around, but it was a necessary evil to your work. Mor stood beside you in all her ethereal glory, and the pair of you looked nothing more than astounding. Emerie was somewhere in the crowd of people, charming her way through each table she rounded. You were sometimes envious of the support she lends to Mor at these times, the two made a good pair in these places, balancing the other out that lead to progress you would only dream of making in such short time.
But it seemed tonight all you would find for yourself was concealed and blatant admissions of fae asking about your seemingly juicy availability.
“Ladies, it’s an honour to have received an invitation to such a grand celebration, pray tell” the male who’d sauntered his way over to the two of you leered in you direction, “has the lovely lady finally been freed from her cage? Should I thank the Shadowsinger for his decision to set you free from you confines that is the Court of Nightmares?” You blanched at his obvious attempt but concealed it under a smile too easy that it felt tight, “I believe you’ve been fed the wrong fruit from the vine my lord, Azriel and I are still quite the pair. I do hope you don’t mean to sully his name when he is not here to defend himself?” your sinister pout had the blood leeching from the males cheeks, and he stuttered himself into a stupor until he could find his feet to walk quickly away.
Sighing, you grabbed a fresh glass of wine, the last going sour from the interaction. Mor’s head leaned to yours unceremoniously, “Mother, that’s the fifth one in the last hour! How often does this happen?”
“Any time Azriel isn’t with me. When he’s accompanied me in the past it stopped a lot of this for the most part. But with my reputation among the courts here and abroad, anyone will try to get their claws into the person holding the most honey pots.” You were feeling the effect of it much sooner than ever before, the mental strain making your mind lag. You’d really hoped Azriel would have been here tonight, but you couldn’t lean on his strength every time.
“That’s why you’ve been bringing him along…” something seemed to click with her. “You know he hates these things. But you wanted him here for support, for you.” You nodded without hesitation, confused as to why her face seemed so stricken by the knowledge.
“There’s something I have to tell you” Mor’s tone was sullen. As she explained, you listened and felt anger wash over you in gulfs. Oh, you were going to murder someone, and soon.
The following weeks after Azriel had admitted his feelings to you were…odd, to say the least. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. you had been the same as ever to him, loving and oh so understanding when it came to his every need. You didn’t press him to attend the gatherings you had to, opting to inform him instead of your departure. While you were gone, he would catch up on all the paperwork he had waiting, and by the time you came home, his arms would be open and waiting for you to fall into.
But something was still off. He felt it in the way your shoulders slumped more than they usually would after socialising all night. It was still taxing to you, but you had always smiled after when he had attended them with you. Now, you barely had enough energy to lift yourself from his hold, falling straight to sleep once he’d guided you to bed.
Those nights, when you’re too tired to tell him about your day, and instead just curl up against his side, Azriel thinks about the moments of when you’d first met.
Your connection to him was almost instantaneous, you’d follow him everywhere you could. The idle chatter you started with had eventually turned to long and deep conversations, sweeping him along into the early hours of the morning.
Your first kiss, when you’d found him after a more draining mission. You’d helped him bathe, nursing the tension from his back and mind with loving but firm touches to his skin. He’d turned to you in a burst of confidence and captured your mouth with his before he had anytime to think himself out of it. You’d melted into him almost instantly, and the rest had been a blur of tangled limbs and sheets.
The weeks after had been full of secret touches and longing looks, until Cassian had caught the two of you in a heated kiss after venturing to the kitchen for some late night tea. Always the one known for having loose lips, the whole house had known before Azriel could’ve knocked him unconscious, but you had laughed and squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know that you didn’t mind being claimed by him, if he were okay with you claiming him. No, he didn’t mind that at all.
Gods, he had been in heaven ever since. Having someone to come home to, to reach for in the long family dinner when before he had to watch the mated couples around him stare adoringly at one another. He now had someone to call his own, and he was so glad it was you.
But you seemed to be getting worse as the weeks rolled on, and he couldn’t quite understand why, until Rhysand pulled him into his office.
“She’s taking a leave of absence from her position.” Azriel’s world spun on the wrong axis as he processed the words coming from his brother’s mouth.
“She hasn’t spoken to you about this?” he shook his head, mind spiralling as to why you’d do something like this. You loved your job, more than anything. It gave you a purpose, something to give back to the world.
Cassian ventured in not long after, seeming to already know what was going on, “you’re not communicating again. Azriel, this is gonna really affect your-”
“Affect his what, Cassian?”
The three of the bristled at the sharpness of your tone. Azriel cast his gaze over you. Your eyes seemed darkened by a tiredness that hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. Even your posture, always one to hold your head high, looked slumped against Mor and Feyre, who stood behind you.
“I was just saying that you both should talk a bit more about-”
“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of comments on what me and my mate should talk about.”
Azriel stopped.
Everything stopped.
Your- your what?
You sighed, your admission seeming to go amiss amongst the thoughts swirling in you mind, but Azriel couldn’t comprehend how you’d said something like that so…so… casually.
“Azriel, Can I speak to Rhysand and Cassian – alone?” he didn’t feel himself answer, but Mor and Feyre seemed to understand and guided him into the hallway, where the three of them waited with baited breath to hear the onslaught you’d ensue. It wasn’t a secret, how much you detested some of the decisions they made in this court. Hels, you had even come to Eris’ defense more than once during the time of the alliance to put him on the Autumn throne. But this was different, and he knew it deep in his bones.
Mate. You’d called him your mate. But there was no bond. Nothing had snapped in all the time you had known each other. He loved you, infinitely. but that had been a choice you had both made in all that you had gone through, not for some fate woven between you.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in” it was Feyre, “I think we should sit down, get some tea while we wait until they’re finished.”  
So the three of them walked away from the voices on the other side of the door, and made for Feyre’s studio.
“You two need to butt out, now.” You were fuming, white hot rage consumed you as you looked to the grown males in front of you. But they weren’t acting like that, not in all the time you’d known them.
“You-you called Az your mate?”
Shit. Had you? Oh gods he was probably going insane with the thoughts in his head. No wonder he hadn’t answered you. How were you going to explain hiding something so profound from him for as long as you’d known each other.
“What of it.” you were snapping now. You don’t ever snap. That was your charm, ever the collected one, no matter what. But gods they had stuck their noses where it didn’t belong. And you detested it.
 The statement had seemed to shut the two of the up quite quickly, so you continued, happy for the lack of interruption. “I understand you’re looking out for Az; I do. But this is getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. Have you ever considered the weight in which Az holds your words? They’re like gospel to him.”
“We were just trying to help, nothing more.” You snorted as the High Lord’s words. Feyre and Mor have known of your secret since you met Azriel, but it seemed the two of them have truly kept it privy to your circle of three.
“Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong does more damage than good?” you were breaking now, the emotions you had welled up the past while cresting. “I wasn’t asking Azriel to those gatherings because I wanted him out of his comfort zone. Gods, I know he detests them.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because I needed him. It’s not easy listening to fae ask about your hand in marriage while your mate sits happily at home.”
You took a breath as the two said nothing more. “I came here to tell you that my leave was because I was overwhelmed. It’s a lot sometimes, even for me. And I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Az without interruption since we met. I was going to tell you both today, about… the predicament. But it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag, claws and all.”
Gods, how were you going to explain this to him? You’ve kept him in the dark for months. He’ll never forgive you.
“We-acknowledge our misstep. We truly didn’t mean to hurt you, or Azriel. And for that I apologise, for us both.” Rhys’ face was sullen enough for your anger towards the two wash away, and you nodded. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s hurt him.”
With nothing else to say, you made for the door. Cassian’s voice stopping you just as you reached for the handle, “Just, make sure you get him to listen. He’ll go into his head, and its not a good place.”
You nodded.
 “I know.”
There will be a Part II
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lostdreamr-blog1 · 6 months
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Pinky Promise
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Pinky Promise 2
Part 3
Summary: Jake gets a call in the middle of the night asking for a ride home. But it’s who is asking that makes him worried.
Word count: 2k
A/N: Another request knocked out! Currently working on part 2 of Beautiful Stranger and might have plans for continuing this one depending on if you all like it. Thank you so much for reading! -C
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You were a little on the tipsy side as you squinted at your phone trying to make out the numbers on it. With them moving as much as they were, it was near impossible to type in a correct phone number. Instead, you opened your contacts and scrolled down to your brother’s name.
The smart thing to do would be to call him for a ride, but the more drunk side of you could only think about the nagging you would get on the way home and probably the month following. So, you scrolled up and down your contacts deciding on who would be the lucky winner to receive a call at 1 in the morning.
Jake groaned as he heard his phone going off. He blindly reached for it and squinted at the bright screen, trying to decipher who the hell would be calling at this hour. He had to be up in a few hours to get ready for another day of trying to get through the near impossible assignment, so unless it was an emergency, he was ignoring it.
The number that flashed on his screen wasn’t one he had seen before. He almost wrote it off as a wrong number or another spam call, but something told him to answer it. The area code was one he knew and a call this late on a Saturday might mean something is going on. So, instead of rolling over and enjoying the few hours of sleep he had left, he answered the mystery number.
“Seresin.”
“Oh shit! That’s the Jake that’s in this phone? Why would he put that number in here?” The voice was female and sounded somewhat familiar but was clearly drunk.
“Sorry to disappoint. Who is this?” Jake was kicking himself for answering it now, having the person insult him within two seconds of talking.
“Ah. Look, you have to promise not to tell my brother anything. Like pinkly swear and everything.” Jake was too tired to entertain childish requests, but the first part of the statement finally sunk in. The only one on the team who had a sister near base was Bradley. Fuck.
“Y/N? Is that you?” He needed the confirmation before freaking out. What did she do that warranted keeping her brother in the dark?
“I am not answering that question until you promise me.” He sat up in bed, turning on the lamp next to him. There was no way this wasn’t her.
“Alright. I promise I won’t tell him right now. Can you tell me what’s going on?” He was hoping she was too drunk to catch how he promised.
“Fine. I’m at this bar with my friend and I played wingman a little too well and she left with this guy. I mean good for her. She just got over this really bad breakup and needed to get laid.” Jake had gotten out of bed and put the phone on speaker as he got dressed. Something told him he was going to have to pick you up from somewhere. That’s if you managed to stop getting sidetracked.
“Anyway, I have this thing about not liking to get in Ubers by myself and it’s a long ass walk back to my apartment.” Jake had grabbed his keys at this point and was walking out the door.
“Where are you? I’m on my way.” He turned on his truck and waited for a response.
“Shoot. Well, we started at one place and now this is place three. No place four. You know what, let me ask because I have no idea.” Jake sighed and shook his head. He had heard stories from Bradley about his younger sister and how reckless you were. Or at least that’s the way he described you. He always kept you on a tight leash, trying his hardest to keep you out of trouble.
But Jake thought you just wanted to have some fun. One of his sisters went through a phase like this and it was best to keep a close eye on them but never push them. For reasons like this.
You told him the name of the bar and he was on his way. “I’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Are you okay to wait inside for me?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. I need to finish this water anyway.” Jake told you to call if something came up but he shouldn’t be long.
It wasn’t but 5 minutes later his phone started ringing again. He saved your number as Baby Bradshaw, knowing that this probably wouldn’t be the last time you called him.
“Yes ma’am?”
“Are you close?” As casual as you tried to sound, Jake could hear a slight bit of urgency.
“Five minutes away. Everything alright?” The hesitation that followed his question told him everything he needed to know. But he waited for your response before he pushed the issue further.
“Umm, it’s probably nothing. Just this guy by the bar keeps giving me this look and it’s making me feel a bit uncomfortable. But I’m also drunk and a tiny bit paranoid.” Jake pushed the accelerator down a bit further, breaking a few laws in order to get to you faster. He wasn't going to be blamed for getting the youngest Bradshaw in trouble.
“I’ve always been told to listen to your gut.” He heard the hum on the other end of the line as he blew through a red light.
“My gut is telling me they want tacos.” Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that came out.
“We can get you tacos on the way home, sweetheart. Now do me a favor and stand where a lot of people can see you. People like security or a bouncer. Can you do that for me?” He heard you hum again.
“Slight problem. He is following me now.” Jake’s heart started to beat faster and knew he needed to get there now.
“Shit. What did Bradley say. Thumb out, use your knuckles.” He shook his head trying to figure out what the hell you were saying. But it clicked a second too late.
“No don’t-“ He heard commotion on the other line and parked his truck right outside the bar. Flying out the door, he nearly ran into you as you were standing by the entrance with a bouncer blocking a guy with blood running from his nose from getting close to you.
Jake grabbed you before you could get around the bouncer and pulled you outside. “I told you to stay the hell away from me, you creep!” You were yelling at the guy all the way outside, letting him know you weren’t to be messed with. He wanted to go back in there and show the guy what happens when you mess with innocent people, but he knew leaving your side wouldn’t be for the best.
When the two of you were next to his truck, Jake let go and looked you over. Your face had a red tint to it from what he assumed had just happened, but besides that you looked to be in one piece. That was until he saw your eyes start to water.
He put a hand under your chin and lifted your head up. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
You sniffed a few times and wiped the tear that managed to escape. “Bradley didn’t say how much it hurts to hit someone.”
Jake bit back a smile and looked down at your hand. While it was a bit red and would surely bruise tomorrow, it didn’t look too bad.
“He probably didn’t think you would ever have to do that. Why don’t we get you back home and you can tell me what happened.” He watched you nod your head and opened his passenger door for you, closing it when you were in.
He waited a few minutes after you were on the road before asking questions. “Want to tell me why you called me instead of your brother?”
You shook your head at the question. “Have you met my brother? It would be nonstop nagging for God knows how long. Anyone else seemed like the better option.” You paused as you remembered exactly who you were with.
“I will say I didn’t expect him to put your name in my phone. He seems to have a strong dislike for you.” Jake smirked at what you had said and shrugged his shoulders.
“He probably knew I had sisters and would do anything to make sure they were alright. Regardless on who they were related to.” You thought this over and nodded your head. It wasn’t long until the next question came.
“What happened at the bar?” You felt his eyes on you and knew he was more concerned than curious.
“The guy I told you was giving me weird looks ended up following me to the door. He stopped me and tried to grab my hand and even though I pulled it away, he kept coming at me. I don’t know, I guess I just felt like I needed to do something to stop him.” You missed the way Jake’s hands tightened on the steering wheel or the clench in his jaw.
“He was lucky I was 30 seconds behind, or he would’ve gotten more than a broken nose.” You looked over and saw how serious he was. A look your brother wore all too often.
“How long until you tell bird boy what happened?” Jakes eyes caught yours and you saw the conflict in them.
“If I was him, I would want to know something happened to my sister. But I will at least drop you off before I call him. Keep your phone on silent and say you fell asleep. That way you can push it off until he gets off tomorrow.” He heard your sigh but that was the end of that.
It was silent in the car until he heard you say, “I’m not as stupid as my brother makes me out to be.” Stupid was never a word he would have used to describe you. A little carefree maybe, but you knew what you were doing.
“I see someone who wants to have a little fun in their life while they can. Nothing wrong with that.” He glanced over to you to see you playing with your injured hand.
“You’re not as bad as they make you out to be either. Besides my brother, not many people would come and get me when they have to be up soon.” Jake held back a wince when he saw the time. A coffee run in the morning would be needed. Maybe he could talk Natasha into picking him up some from that place she always went to.
He pulled into your apartment complex and parked as close to your building as he could.
“Hey, sweetheart. You can call me anytime you need help, okay? I know your brother and I are not on great terms, but I know he would help me out when family is involved.” You gave him a small smile and thanked him for the ride.
He waited until you closed the door before he backed out of the parking lot, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Bradley. It was nearing 2am and calling him was oit of the question. So, he sent a simple text.
Hey man. Your sister called a random number in her contacts tonight and didn’t realize it was me. She needed a safe ride home and that exactly what I did. We can talk about it more at base, but wanted to let you know she is safe. -Hangman
He went to put his phone down when a text popped up. He prayed Bradley wasn’t awake, wanting to push the rest of that conversation off. But instead, it was baby Bradshaw with the text You never got me tacos.
Jake laughed out loud replying that he owes you some in the near future. With a spitfire attitude that you had, Jake saw the two of you becoming good friends. That’s if Bradley didn’t lock you up after tonight’s events.
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A/N: Not too sure how I felt about this one but thinking about doing a Jake and Y/N friend series. Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you for reading!
Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy
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subbmissivesuccubus · 7 months
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Bully - Part 2
Summary : Your new life as Geto and Gojo's personal fuck toy has begun. You thought you'd get a moment of peace when you and all your classmates went out for drinks...but why would you assume something so silly?
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a/n : Aight you degenerates (with love) here's part 2. Hope you like it. I made it extra long and extra filthy for you, you better appreciate it.
Disclaimer : Contains Bully Gojo and Geto X Fem reader. Free use dynamic. Humiliation. Like a lot of humiliation. Public indecency. Exhibitionism. Pantsing. Dub con warning.
Taglist : @xstormstriderx @lovely-lady-tits @brianmaysclog @obanais-biggest-fan @sp1dermanluvr @spongesquid04 @krishnaabhistha @ihateuguys @misscaller06 @ksvvvn @collectionofdolls @otakuweebs-world @winterlovessanemi
Geto sighed as he walked out of the bathroom, steam following him from the hot shower he just enjoyed. A towel wrapped around his waist and his wet hair dripping over his shoulders, he took a second to look at himself in the mirror, noting that his physique had grown a bit more sculpted thanks to all of their work.
"You better hurry it up." he said, addressing the other people in his room as he opened his closet and grabbed his clothes, "We need to leave in like, ten minutes."
"Fu- ah- ah- mmhm- ah!"
"Yeah, yeah." Gojo grunted, gritting his teeth, "I'm almost done."
Geto chuckled as he started getting dressed, the sound of your moans and pleas almost like background noise. Gojo had you on your hands and knees on Geto's bed, the white haired man pounding into you from behind mercilessly. Both of you were still dressed in your uniforms, your pants and underwear simply pulled down while Gojo just fished his dick out.
"Thought you would keep it in your pants long enough to not delay us from leaving, Satoru." Geto said as he pulled up his trousers.
"Huh?" Gojo responded, hips still thrusting into you, too focused on his pleasure, "You say something?"
Geto rolled his eyes and walked over to the bed before grabbing you by the back of the head and pushing you down harshly. You yelped as your face collided with the mattress, your moans now muffled by the fabric. Geto's grip on your was rock solid, rendering you unable to move an inch.
The man clicked his tongue at you in annoyance, "So fucking loud...anyway," he turned back to Gojo, "I said, I thought you'd be able to not fuck her when we need to leave soon."
"I- shit - I wasn't planning on fucking her." Gojo said, raising his hand before giving your ass a sharp slap, making you squeal into the mattress, "But I was just casually groping her tits and fuck- got horny~"
Geto sighed, letting go of your head and finally letting you breathe, smirking as he heard you gasp and take in deep breaths. "Well, if the others get mad at us for being late, i'm blaming you."
"Blame this bitch." Gojo said, giving you another spank, "Not my fault she's so fuckable. Isn't that right? Hmm?" another slap to the ass and you knew your skin was turning a flaming hot red, "Why don't you apologize to us, hmm?"
"I-I-I'm s-sorry~" you babbled, head in the clouds as you took your pounding, Gojo's balls slapping against your clit every-time he thrust in, "i'm sor-ry for being s-so fuckable- ah!"
Gojo barked out a laugh, his grip on your hips bruising as he chased his pleasure, loving how pathetic you were for him. Once he cums inside you, he was going to take a picture to add to his collection under the folder : Sex toy~, just as he always did.
~~~~~
After that night in the classroom, after Gojo and Geto took turns fucking you and making you cum over and over again on their tongues, fingers and cocks- you were now their personal toy. To bully. To play with. To fuck whenever they wanted.
They left you in that room on the floor, pussy dripping with cum, your chest covered in white and your jaw aching from all the sucking. But before they left, they made sure to take plenty of pictures before Geto told you:
"You're our personal fuck toy from now on, understand? We wouldn't want these pictures to float around now, do we?"
A silent threat but everyone involved knew you didn't need to be threatened. And ever since then, this was the life you've accepted.
Wake up naked between the two men, still exhausted after a long night of sex. Gojo's mouth would be on your nipple or Geto's hand would be between your legs, having slept in that position. They'd grope you some more as you wiggle out of bed, your movements waking them up as well. After taking a shower and getting dressed, you'd head to class where you had to deal with their bullying as usual. In front of the others, they were the same nuisances but behind their backs, they'd grope your ass, squeeze your tits, swipe through your nudes on their phone in front of you-
Geto one time cornered you in the hallway, making sure no one was around before he gripped your top and lifted it up, exposing your bra covered chest. You whined and stayed still as he harshly pulled the cups of your bra down enough for your nipples to pop out, the man immediately bending down and sealing his lips over them. You slapped a hand over your mouth, body trembling as his sinful tongue suckled on your nipple like he was trying to milk you, knowing full well how sore your nipples would be later.
Gojo was starting to form a habit of taking a shower with you everyday. He'd break into the bathroom while you showered, regardless of when you were taking it. He always had a sixth sense and knew when you were cleaning yourself. You learned you lesson when you tired to take a shower at 2 in the morning, only for Gojo to break into your room and barge in anyway. He didn't appreciate you trying to shower without him at some ungodly time which was how you ended up with an ass spanked hot red, preventing you from sitting down without wincing in pain for two days straight.
In public, they harassed you discreetly, the others not noticing anything off about your dynamic, but little did they know that right before everyone sat down and waited for class to start, the two of them fucked your face in the hallway. You excused your red face and told everyone it was due to a cold- and not because the two men slapped your face with their heavy dicks before.
And all of that happened within the span of a few days and you had no doubt it would just get more and more intense. You couldn't help but shiver as your mind was brought back to the present, walking along a wide yet abandoned street with your group of friends.
Everyone decided to go out drinking, a celebration marking the end of a long week of exorcising curses. Utahime invited you along with, Nanami, Shoko, MeiMei, Haibara and of course, Gojo and Geto. After Gojo came on your ass, you quickly cleaned up and got back in your uniform to join the group just as they were about to leave. Utahime snapped at Gojo and Geto, accusing them of being bad influences and making you arrive late as well. They simply joked and waved it off, the group thankfully not noticing your blushing face.
Everyone naturally divided into smaller pairs as you walked on the road, Utahime claiming this was a shortcut. You, Geto and Gojo trailed behind the rest of them, a few steps slower but still able to involve yourself in conversation and respond when you need to. You laughed as MeiMei told everyone another story about how she managed to extort money off of some random guy, a momentary peace among the chaos you'd come to expect.
There's no way they'd try anything when you were right behind the group, right?
Right?
You were too focused on listening to their conversation and having deluded yourself with the false confidence, that you failed to see Geto and Gojo slow down their pace so they were a step behind you- and you failed to notice Geto pull his phone out and start recording- two actions that would normally have you on guard.
You were only reminded of them again when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, Gojo's long fingers digging into the fabric of your pants but before you could say anything or even move your head to look at him-
He tightly fisted your pants and pulled them down in one fell swoop.
You slapped a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from screaming as your other hand went between your legs despite that doing nothing to help your situation. You were in public- right behind your group of friends with your pants on the ground- bare legs and panties exposed to the world.
Blood rushed to your face so fast it almost made you dizzy, quickly bending down to pull your pants up before anybody saw you. Your only focus was to cover yourself back up so you just had to ignore the fact that when you bent down, you were practically showing off your panty covered pussy and ass to your two bullies.
As you grabbed your pants, you could feel Gojo hook a finger into the crotch of your panty before pulling it aside, exposing your bare pussy to the cold evening air. With a wink to the camera, he leaned forward and took a greedy lick of your cunt, tongue dragging from your clit upto your hole. He would have kept eating you out were it not for you pulling you pants back up and straightening your body. And it was just in time too as Utahime looked behind her shoulder, wondering why the footsteps behind her stopped.
Luckily for you, your pants were pulled up and all she saw was Gojo and Geto laughing at you.
"Hey! Are you two bullying her again?" Utahime snapped, taking note of your red face which she chalked up to frustration, "You're so annoying! Leave her alone!"
"Just friendly banter, Utahime." Gojo said, still in his crouched position on the ground, "Isn't that right?" he asked, directly addressing you. You gulped as you looked into Gojo's piercing blue eyes, eyes that always took your breath away. You could tell Utahime about what actually happened and you knew, even if it was Gojo, the others would rush to your side to help-
"I-It's fine, Senpai." you said, trying to keep your voice stable, ignoring Geto's snort of laughter behind you, "they're just teasing."
"Well, if you say so." Utahime said, pouting, "But you tell me if they're annoying you too much!"
"Oh, and what are you gonna do about it, Utahime?" Gojo teased, hopping back on his feet to skip towards the group, "You're a weakling, afterall~"
"Hey! Watch your manners!"
You stiffened as Geto walked up behind you, the man throwing an arm around your shoulder before the two of you started walking, a few steps behind the group. His fingers kept brushing against the curve of your chest, not enough to feel good but enough for your nipples to harden, Geto even running his fingers in circles gently over the hardened bud.
"Fucking slut~" he growled into your ear, "You'll just let us do anything to you, won't you? Oh, dinner's gonna be fun~"
"Y-You're seriously not gonna- not while everyone's around!" you whispered to him, whimpering as he suddenly gripped you tit tightly, giving it a greedy grope before letting go.
"And why do you think that? You're pretty fucking stupid, aren't you?"
Before you could say anything, Geto pushed you towards the group, both of you seamlessly joining the others as you walked. You couldn't focus on the conversation anymore, your mind only filled with countless possibilities of what Geto and Gojo were going to do to you. You gulped, hoping that the others won't see the nervous look on your face and hoping that the two men won't notice the way you were pressing your thighs together as you walk.
But of course they noticed.
~~~~~
Ok. Ok! This was ok!
A semi-crowded restaurant with bright lights. Sure, the table that was given to the group was against a wall and the three of you were sitting on the couch against said wall- and yes, the table had a long tablecloth that covered your bottom halves- but even so, they surely wouldn't do anything-
Right?
"Here you go." Nanami said, handing you a copy of the menu. You thanked the man, getting up from your seat so you could reach it, the man sitting diagonal to you. Gojo and Geto were sitting on either side of you, pressing against your sides. Fortunately - or unfortunately- nobody else wanted to share seats with the two bullies so the others adjusted themselves accordingly, leaving you at their mercy.
But since it was public and everyone was around, they'd behave themselves-
Just as you were starting to sit down, you felt the two of them grab fistfuls of your pants before they started dragging it down and within a fraction of a second, your bare ass was against the cushion and your pants were pooled down on the floor.
Oh fuck.
Blood rushed to your face, your cheeks and ears turning a bright red as you took in your predicament, so taken aback by the situation that you barely processed Gojo copping a feel of your butt. Your body trembled as you gripped onto the menu tighter, a hundred things rushing through your mind. You were pansted by these two assholes in a restaurant and the only reason no one realized was because of the table cloth covering you.
"Hey, everything ok?" Shoko asked, noticing your red face and wide eyes, "You look like you've seen a ghost. There are no curses around, right?"
"Oh- no - I- um-" you sputtered, brain lagging as you couldn't think of anything to say. But thankfully, Geto swooped in, taking the menu from your hand and starting to flip the pages.
"I think she's nervous cause we're getting alcohol." he teased as he looked through the drinks, "Poor baby doesn't wanna have a big girl drink? Maybe we can get you some milk in a sippy cup?"
"Sh-shut up!" you squeaked, his teasing now excusing your red face as you snatched the menu back from him, "I've had alcohol before! I'm an adult!"
"Oh, really?" Gojo asked, leaning into you obnoxiously, placing an elbow on your head as he applied his weight on you, "Then has this big strong adult had sex before?"
"Gojo!" Utahime barked before you could say anything, "Stop being nasty- hey, you can come sit by me if you'd like." the woman offered to you. But how could take her up on the offer? There's no way you could move- not when your pants were still on the ground. Besides, even if you did move- there's no telling what the two of them would do to compensate.
"I-It's okay." you said, trying you best to sound nonchalant, "I've gotten pretty comfortable here."
"Yeah, stop butting in!" Gojo said with a pout, "You think we're bullying her but it's all fun and games! You just don't get how we joke, Utahime."
"Again- have some manners!"
As the group got louder, arguments between Gojo and your senpai mixed with the others figuring out what to order, your mind raced, trying to figure out how to get your pants back on (a predicament you'd never imagine being in). Maybe you could drop a utensil, get under the table and use that as leverage to pull your pants back up...
But almost like he could read your mind, you saw your phone (which you had thankfully taken out of your pockets and placed on the table before your pants were pulled down) brighten up with the signs that you got a message. Geto bumped you lightly with his elbow, a silent order that you needed to read that message. With a gulp, you picked up the phone, eyes widening slightly as you read a text from the raved haired man:
If you try to put your pants back on, we're taking off your panties too.
Fuck.
"So, is everyone ready to order?" Nanami asked, offering to keep track of what everyone wanted so they could give it to the waiter. You managed to squeak out your decision, hoping that the alcohol will excuse any redness that would definitely be on your cheeks. You jumped as you felt Geto start to grope your butt as well, the man running his warm palm in circles over a cheek before his fingers started tugging at the fabric of your panties.
The environment faded into the background and your body was on autopilot mode. You were reacting appropriately to things that you weren't even processing, shoveling the food into your mouth without sensing any of the flavor, downing the alcohol without registering the burn of the liquid. All you could think about was how you were in your panties with the two men groping you to their hearts content.
At one point, Geto grabbed your panties harshly and started pulling up, making you squeal as gave you a wedgie, your underwear pulled tight against your cunt, the cloth now lodged between your ass-cheeks, making you look even lewder. Gojo let out a low whistle, pulling his phone out before discretely taking a picture, Geto holding up a peace sign next to your butt.
After pocketing his phone and pretending to be invested in other conversation, you shivered as Gojo slid his hand to your thigh, caressing your soft skin for a second before sliding it between your legs. You pressed your thighs together, trying to deter his movements but Geto simply grabbed a knee and pulled harshly, giving you no choice but to spread them. You prayed to any deity out there that nobody would drop anything that makes them go under the table as they could easily see what was happening and you'd never live it down.
MeiMei was saying something to you as Gojo's fingers found their way to your pussy, giving your mound a gentle pat pat pat before he started running his fingers up and down your slit. Your pussy was drenched, the humiliation and risk of the situation making your body run hot, Gojo's satisfying snickers telling you that he could feel your wetness even through your panties.
Geto eventually got his hand between your legs as well, softly laughing as his fingers touched Gojo's hand before he fingered the fabric of your panties and simply pulled them aside to expose your pussy. Your bare pussy. Out in the open. Just a tablecloth away from everyone seeing.
Even picturing it put you on edge- the hypothetical faces of disgust directed at you from friends and strangers alike. They'd call you a whore- a slut- a dirty woman who's being touched in public-
"Fuck- you're so fucking wet~" Geto purred into your ear as his fingers found their way to your opening, drawing circles over it, "Nasty bitch~"
"Are you surprised?" Gojo asked, not as careful as the others were tipsy enough they weren't paying attention to their conversation, "Getting off on being humiliated like this- what a pathetic little rat!"
"Spread those legs wider, bitch. Yeah, that's it~ Good little slut~"
You couldn't help yourself as you obeyed Geto's command, spreading your legs wider and giving them more room to touch. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Geto slid two fingers inside you, starting off strong thanks to how wet you were. He started thrusting them in and out, in and out, in...and...out...curling them deliciously inside you. Gojo's fingers were rubbing circles over your clit, the perfect balance of gentle as rough as he toyed with your sensitive bud.
You were grateful that the sound of people talking and music was drowning out the nasty noise of your pussy getting fingered, Geto hitting your g-spot with practiced ease, your juices starting to stain the cushion of the couch and you could only imagine what the worker would think about said stain when you all left, the very thought making your ears a bright red. You sipped at your drink, trying your best to bite down your moans, your body trembling under their touch. Gojo was scratching at your clit with his nail, the pleasurable pain making you jump with every flick. Your legs were shaking and your toes were curling, your grip on your glass tightening and you were worried you might even crack it.
"woah, hey." Haibara said, eyes wide as he looked at you, "Maybe you should stop drinking? You look pretty drunk."
You couldn't even imagine what you looked like but no doubt your face was as red as a tomato, your panting fogging up the glass against your lips. But instead of stopping, the two of them suddenly picked up the pace, making you lurch forward and slam your head against the table. You didn't know how else to cover up your expressions, ecstasy plastered on your face as they finger fucked you.
"Oh my-" Nanami said, eyes wide, "Did she pass out?"
"Hmm? Did she?" Geto asked, leaning over to you like he wasn't knuckles deep inside you cunt, "You awake, dumb little bitch?"
"Hah! Some adult she is." Gojo teased, poking you on the back of your head, his fingers almost a blur as he rubbed at your clit in a fast pace, your juices flying everywhere, "Can't even handle her alcohol."
"Hmm, maybe we should take her home." Shoko said, "wouldn't want her to get hurt."
"Ah, but the night's barely begun!" Utahime complained, already drunk.
"We can take her home." Gojo suggested, surprising everyone with his thoughtfulness, "I'm kinda tired anyway. C'mon Suguru, let's pick her up-"
You immediately sat back up and straightened yourself, eyes wide and heart pounding in your chest. His silent threat to make sure you got back up was noted, Gojo definitely more than capable of picking you up and showing everyone your bare bottoms, panty pulled to the side.
"S-Sorry." you said, your voice noticeably slurred, "I just needed a second- i'm good."
"You sure?" MeiMei asked.
"Y-Yeaaah!" you babbled, body thrumming as the boys picked up the pace again, "S-Super good- let's k-keep drinking!"
Deciding to not argue, everyone cheered, still eager to drink the night away. You leaned back against the couch cushion, your body slightly slouching as you hoped the others couldn't see the way your body was twitching from how vigorously Geto was fucking your cunt.
And Oh. Oh.
Oh, you were going to cum.
You whimpered, tears pooling in your eyes at the inconceivable pleasure. In the span of a few days, these two assholes managed to figure out just which buttons to press- just how to curl their fingers and just how you like to have your clit rubbed. But were you really gonna do it? Were you really gonna cum here and now? In public? In front of everybody? How were you even going to hide it?
Gojo leaned back as well, his shoulder pressed against yours while still having easy access to your clit. "If you want to pull your pants back up," he said, loud enough for you to hear, "You have to cum."
"B-B-But-"
"B-B-but~" Gojo mocked with a laugh, raising his pitch to match your voice, "Pathetic. Just do as I say or i'll slam you on this table, rip these panties off and spread your pussy wide open for everyone to see."
"Th-they'll notice if I c-cum now-" you gasped out, toes curling and the familiar knot in your abdomen making itself known, just seconds away from snapping.
"Sounds like a you problem." Gojo said, "So, what's it gonna be?"
"I-I don't have a choice!"
"Finally, that tiny brain of yours figured it out. Now cum, you dirty bitch~"
With the final order, your body moving ahead of you, you came. But what took you by total surprise, was Geto surging forward and kissing you. You yelped into the kiss, his tongue getting shoved down your throat as you climaxed, his fingers still thrusting in and out of you. Gojo hooted at the sight, rubbing at your clit mercilessly, his phone out to film as he watched you cum, your only saving graze being Suguru. The others gasped, eyes wide and jaws open as they watched the raven haired man make out with you, never expecting that to happen.
Pleasure hit you like a truck, your orgasm so intense you felt like you were close to blacking out. You panted and moaned like a bitch in heat, all of your noises being swallowed by Geto's tongue in your mouth, the man's piercing eyes open to see every expression. And what a treat it was. You looked pathetic and broken, your body trembling and your pussy gushing around him, some of no doubt staining the floor at this point. Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head and your fingers gripped him tightly, you were a sight to marvel at.
"Hey, where's my kiss?"
You felt a hand in your hair just as the orgasm was about to wash over you, your scalp being tugged at as you were forced to break up the kiss with Geto only for Gojo to take his place. Your eyes widened and everyone gasped again as Gojo kissed you, the lip lock with him filthy- all tongue and no love. Just how he liked it.
Oh, they weren't done with you. Not by a long shot. You still had a long night ahead.
~~~~~
Part 3 will be out soon(ish)! This was getting way too long lmao so look forward to some filthy sex in the next part!
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abbyromanoff · 7 months
Note
Hello bestie! I hope you’re doing better <3
This is only a request if they’re open, if not enjoy the thots!
Stepmom!Nat finding reader humping a couch or anything in the area to get off cause her one night stand left her horny. R’s mom is out of town and Nat starts getting hard and realizes it’s now or never to have and cum inside her stepdaughter.
WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
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PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 1956
WARNINGS: step parent/step child relationship, cheating (Nat is married to R’s mom, talks of unfulfilling marriages, Nat has a dick, smut obvi, jealousy, hook ups, 69’ing, masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of anal, blowjobs, denied orgasm, praise, degrading, age gaps (legal), R is 19-20 ish and Nat is late 30’s - early 40’s, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
She listened with a scowl as the bed from your room creaked, small moans being heard through the wall. This wasn’t fair, how could you do this to her? How could you bring a girl home, have a rushed introduction between her and Nat, and then disappear into your room where you let her touch you? She was the one meant to do that, she was the one meant to take your innocence and ruin you for anyone else, yet here you were with another.
She wasn’t able to deny the fact that your small moans turned her on, but she could tell they were fake. She could differentiate the silent, hidden sounds you’d let out while calling her name as your fingers slid in and out of you quickly from this. You were most likely imagining her, which was the reason you kicked the girl out only a few moments later.
She shouldn’t be feeling this way, you were her stepdaughter, her wife’s child. But she never truly loved your mom, she was rich and alone and seeking for any sort of love that your mom bombarded her with, she thought that’s what always happened. She thought it was normal to grow sick of your lover, to dread them coming home from work, to deny them constantly of sex and only use it as a way to get off. She never knew true love, and she blamed that on her parents. But she wanted it, she wanted to love that woman so badly, yet over time she realized it wasn’t that she craved her, she craved the person she created.
Her sleepless nights were caused by your lingering voice, the images of you beneath her, and the desire to kiss your plump lips. You constantly were bringing home someone else, and it took everything in her not to rip you away from them and have you for herself. She had self-control, her job required such, but with you it was a different story. She wasn’t able to focus at work, she’d toss the papers across the room and throw her head in her hands. But then you’d arrive.
You begged for a job there, to be her assistant or lower-class worker stating you needed the money desperately. She wasn’t able to deny your pleading eyes or the warm feeling in her chest. You’d bring her lunch oftentimes before, but having you work for her full-time was a dream come true. She would more than likely struggle even more to keep her composure, but she lost all care for that months ago.
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The door slammed shut and she assumed your one-night stand finally left, which took long enough. She was planning to rush into your room and finally take what was hers, even standing right in front of the entrance with a fist to the door. Then she heard a small buzzing. The door was cracked open just a tiny bit, she guessed the girl was too lazy to even close a door properly but she couldn’t have been more thankful. She lowered her arm and listened closely, pressing her ear against the hardwood and biting her lip as your moans arrived once again, this time they weren’t forced.
“F-fuck! Mhm, right there, Nat, right there-“ You cut yourself off with a hand covering your mouth, your fear of being heard finally coming to mind. Your stepmother wasn’t pleased, she wanted to hear everything just like Carol got to. At least she thinks her name is Carol, she didn’t care enough to listen or shake the waiting hand earlier.
“‘M gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” Came your muffled scream, your legs starting to shake from the denied orgasms sent your way. Now you were getting release, and the one woman on your mind was Nat, how pathetic. Not only was she your boss, but she was also your mother's wife. She was much too old for you and you both knew that, but that didn’t stop the want in your heart.
“You look so pretty when you cum, little slut.” You nearly jumped out of your bones, rushing to cover yourself but failing to turn off the vibrator, leaving a deadly silence filled with buzzing.
“Don’t cover yourself, baby, I wanna see you.” She stalked forward, cupping her crotch as her thumb ran circles around her clothed tip. She fiddled with her shirt before pulling it off, exposing her black bra and breasts that were aching to be freed. You gulped, trying to look away from the sight in shame but not being able to.
“You’re- you’re gorgeous, Nat.” She blushed at your comment, her knee landing on the bed as she crawled towards you, resting your chin in her fingertips. She leaned closer, her gaze switching between your lips and your eyes as she begged for permission. You took a moment to respond but eventually nodded slowly, causing her to press her mouth against yours in a slow but sensual kiss. Her hands rested your hair behind your ear, her body pulling closer as her cock was now throbbing. If you looked close enough, you could see a small wet stain soaking through her pants, she hoped you didn’t notice. But she also wanted you to, she wanted you to see how much she craved your body against hers.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.” She confessed, experiencing relief when you smiled, kissing her softly in return. You were already growing addicted to the feeling, wanting to stay in this exact position for the rest of your life. But she wasn’t yours, she was a married woman, a woman married to your mother, at that.
“No-…no, we can’t-“
“Why not?” Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, her eyes ranking over your worried expression as your breathing picked up ever-so-slightly
“You’re married… to my mom. You’re my stepmom!” She shushed you with a finger to your lips, smirking gently as her hot breath fanned over your face.
“Not tonight. Tonight I’m your Mommy, you got that?” You whimpered and it nearly resulted in a moan from the older woman. Hearing you get like this all for her turned her on so greatly, she couldn’t even explain. Your mother was never exciting in the bedroom, or Nat just didn’t like the things she wanted to do. But she found herself wanting to do them with you, she wanted to do anything and everything with you.
“Tell me what I want to hear, angel.” Her hips created a small thrusting motion the harder she got, it was becoming impossible to ignore her needs. You gulped, fighting back tears of shame as you whispered,
“You can be my Mommy, Nat.” She left a peck on your forehead and slowly removed the sheets hiding her prize. Her final destination.
“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to get a taste of this sweet, sweet pussy.” She didn’t let you even utter a word before spreading your legs and pressing her tongue against your heat. Your hand instantly returned to its original placing over your mouth in order to keep silent. You knew your mother wouldn’t be home for a few more days, but what if that cut short? What if she somehow caught a virus and had to leave early and planned on surprising the two of you? Not only was the fear of being caught roaming freely in the back of your mind but so were your nerves. Nobody had ever truly seen this side of you, where you were beyond ecstatic and touch-starved. Nobody had ever felt you tug desperately on their arm to bring them closer, Nat wasn’t like the others. She was strong with her biceps nearly bulging out of her suit jackets daily. Her kiss was soft, even when she was hungry for a different part of you. You could sense that she truly wanted to taste you and didn’t just do so to get you wet, you were already dripping onto the sheets before she even wrapped her tongue around your pulsing clit.
“So precious,” She muttered, instantly returning to her previous position. She pressed your folded legs against your chest for a better angle, and the moan that left you in return could’ve been considered pornographic. Her tongue briefly slid across your second hole and caused a small thrust from your end, your body yearning for her to repeat.
“Oh, Mommy..” Her moan sent a thrill through your entire being, it seemed to be the only reaction she was able to give you. She was scared to show you her true aspirations. She was scared to have you see the impulses she’d try to stop in worry that you’d run. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to claim you as hers but treat you like you were nothing but a toy for her to use. She’d just have to get you attached to her, then you’d comply with anything she said.
Images flashed through her head, ones where you were sat on your knees, her cock trapped deep inside of your throat while her hand held you firmly in place, forcing you to take all of her. She knew you could do it, she had faith in you.
“‘M sorry, baby, I need you too fucking bad.” She reluctantly pulled away from you and patted you softly, leading you to kneel in front of her. She laid in the same position you had been when she guided your mouth to her crotch, your thighs tightening around her head before she continued her previous acts. Her tongue licked stripes up your weeping cunt as you pulsed around nothing, the sobs coming from your mouth being silenced as it was met with her drooling tip. You sucked weakly, the tiredness catching up to you as you gathered the strength to stroke her balls softly. Her hips jutted upward, resulting in a small gag as she fell deeper inside of you. You didn’t stop it, you didn’t even try as you let her do all the work. She was fucking you and guiding you to fuck her. Teaching you how to do everything just like always, just how she liked it. She enjoyed being a leader to you, she found it unbearably arousing to see your eyes looking up at her, asking for help.
You felt your orgasm approaching and tried to warn her, but she could already sense it.
“It’s okay, you can cum all you want.” She seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. The thought worried you, but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you felt your stomach repeating a clenching until you screwed your eyes shut, your vision going blank as you could see stars forming all around you.
She was greedy the moment she got her mouth on you, but now she seemed animalistic. Her hand came to your scalp, forcing you further down on her just like she had envisioned. You had no complaints in mind, choosing to instead swallow the hot liquid oozing out of her. She wished she could see your face right now: makeup ruined, eyes droopy, along with a small grin you wore.
“I wan’ more, Mommy,” She knew she succeeded when those were the words that left your mouth as soon as you were given the privilege to speak. She smirked, her thumb teasing the small hole that lined your ass. She had always found her sight landing on it whenever you’d pass by her, her thoughts seeming to have one more thing to feast on.
“Get on all fours, princess, I want to fuck this tight little hole next.”
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