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yourneighborhoodporg · 5 months

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The Guardian

Chapter 7: Master

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of pain, banter, humor, fluff, the appearance of a sneaky b (see gif), some developing thoughts about obi 👀

Summary: With your short spar with Anakin nearing completion, the moment is suddenly interrupted by a passing caucus of politicians, one of whom you'd been long hoping to meet. Just as quickly, however, you're dragged away, instead needed at a long-awaited appointment that may reveal new aspects of your being and the immediate path ahead.

Song Inspo: Little Willow — Paul McCartney

Words: 7.5k (just put me in jail)

A/n: He has finally arrived. The one we all hate 😂😭 Let me know what y'all think about his character in this :)

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Series Masterlist

For now we see through a glass, darkly — 1 Corinthians 13:12

“Well done.”

You glanced over at the affected voice with radiant auburn hair, still cognizant enough of your lower back’s recent meeting with the dojo’s pearl-tinted floor to gently press two knuckles against it, hoping to alleviate a sliver of its steadying ache. At the far end of that same three-rowed, dark wood viewing bench, Obi-Wan rose meaningfully, soon strolling toward you both. The Master Jedi leisurely folded each arm while making a point to center his gaze with yours as expressive words fell from his mouth.

“To the both of you.”

Smiling appreciatively at the bearded Jedi, you relaxed your senses, encouraging them to cool like a morning stretch while your stare shifted toward Anakin’s focused gaze and knowing grin. Evidently, he took this shift in your posture as a cue to officially end the duel, directing his saber away from your neck and flicking off its blue, incandescent heat before clipping the weapon to his belt with a clink. You welcomed the invitation to purloin this new space, crunching upwards and gently fluffing your robe of the ground’s remnants. It didn’t take long to recover from the unexpected fall enough to rise to your feet, reattaching your own saber as Obi-Wan continued his approach out of your peripheral.

You faced Anakin with an impassive stance. Tightening your spine, you encouraged the young Jedi to emulate a parallel bearing, prompting his eyes to relax in recognition as both rather slacked expressions linked, signaling each other to dip into a hand-clasped bow in respect of the spar’s end.

“Eh, I think I did most of the work,” Anakin shrugged nonchalantly mid-bob, a poking grin wrestling at ungiving lips as he raised from his inclination.

Your eyes rolled while similarly straightening, an amused smile fighting to the surface. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“Either way,” Obi-Wan spoke up, motioning toward you with an earnest stare as he drew into a restive stance beside the younger Jedi. “You really should rest now.”

You raised your hands in surrender in your stroll up toward the duo. “Okay, okay,” you theatricalized, tickled expression never faltering. “I yield to the Master.”

Obi-Wan’s features lifted warmly at your words. It only lasted mere seconds, however, before the wiser Jedi angled toward his left, gesticulating toward the outwardly gratified companion beside him while speaking ironically.

“At least someone has a respect for rank.”

Anakin scoffed, crossing his arms as he addressed the elder Jedi who’d long ago mastered the art of concealed entertainment. “I respect rank!”

It was clear from his expression alone that Obi-Wan had his most sensible retort fueled and aimed, akin to an incredibly quick-witted pirate with a blaster. His mouth opened to speak while raising a finger in dissent. But before any vocalizations could escape his parted lips, a sudden commotion in the form of resonant, overlapping conversationalists and a clamor of heavy, discordant footsteps rippled through the Force, cutting the brief cessation between the three of you like Bantha butter as you all honed into the interference to the Force’s eternal flow.

Despite the muffled nature of the disturbance, dampened by the training room’s separation from the outer walkway, the atmosphere’s sudden uptick in unregulated activity certainly gave you, Obi-Wan, and Anakin brief pause. For you especially, the unexpected shift from the pacified movements you were becoming accustomed to at the Temple to a progressively incongruous bustle beyond the dojo’s walls drenched you in wonderment.

Who could be walking down that hall? No Jedi, you were certain of that. Yet to the best of your knowledge, only Jedi were welcome within the Temple’s walls.

But before you could consider these sensations further, your inner reflection was cut short, namely by the distraction of a pivoting Anakin as he speedily traipsed toward the training room’s gray double doors. You nearly giggled when taking in his movements as you couldn’t help but notice how they resembled the unassertive dash of a youngling having already been told by an exasperated Master to slow down.

“Where are you going?” You asked as Obi-Wan too, followed the retreating Jedi’s movements with discerning eyes.

You spied his head tilt back, that steady, transitional pace never relenting as the young Jedi spoke pointedly at you.

“You can’t say you’re not just as curious as me.”

Inwardly, you sighed.

He certainly wasn’t wrong.

Maybe that’s why without giving it a second thought, you quickly jogged after him in your own indefinite skip.

“I’m sure it’s nothing to be excited about,” Obi-Wan remarked from behind as he started to amble after you both.

But even Master Kenobi’s uniform words did nothing to assuage your interest. There was something new and exciting beyond those walls, and you were intending to discover it.

You continued behind the young Jedi as he attempted to temper his outward eagerness as well, enough to hear a quiet admittance escape from under his breath.

“At this point, anything will be exciting.”

You caught up to Anakin once he reached for the entryway's left control panel, tapping it in stimulated quick succession before the double doors’ thin seam whooshed into an aperture, pulling you both by the power of inquisitiveness alone into the lofty hall’s cooler chill.

Tracing the vibrant, overlay of several life forces’ buzzing ambulation like latent breadcrumbs, your head swiveled to the left. You caught sight of the clatter’s spirited source before swiftly moving with Anakin toward the walkway’s immediate inner wall, hoping to make room for the approaching turbulence just fifteen meters ahead. It was a rather large entourage, composed of eight individuals engaged in a stifled tread down the lilac path toward you.

You analyzed the diverse group, noting that of the beings you could place, two were definitely human. One was a middle-aged gentleman with dark features and olive-shaped eyes, his expression emulating stoic patience and preoccupation. The other, a senior, pale-haired man with sunken eyes and aged creases radiating from the bridge of his nose as he spoke faintly to the olive-orbed fellow beside him. Another was a Rodian, with his attentive eyes, green-tinted form, and impatient expression. And behind him, a being with a tanned eye-stalk trio, protruding snout, and relaxed antennas— a Gran, and a peaceful one at that. To their rear strolled a reserved Ishi Tib, whose x-shaped, emerald countenance, and rounded beak gazed around in awe at the Temple’s steep architecture. The most notable, however, was the towering four-horned Chagrian whose framed sky-blue face stared on with barely restrained severity on the opposite flank of the elderly human. In hand, a long bronzed staff with a sculpted hooded figure as its head.

Soon, you sensed Obi-Wan slow to join you and Anakin from behind, enabling you all to uniformly observe the scene before you.

As the three of you stood in silent regard, you happened to realize that these strangers moved with greater elegance than the masses you’d encountered in the Uscru and Entertainment Districts, remembering how their lumbered gates and sudden skitters added to the atmosphere’s dynamic yet whimsical glow. But despite their upraised grace, each footfall still landed like desensitized raps while their darkened robes of velvety black and currant whipped about legs now leniently treading eight meters away.

Their modulated sophistication and elaborate attire seemed to contribute to that overall air of importance, you considered. These qualities could potentially explain their presence, and suggest their current permissions to be on Temple grounds, you mused. Though it was soon clear that your companions had the answers you were eagerly searching for.

“That, is the Senate Security Council,” Obi-Wan divulged lowly from just above your shoulder, feeling the subtle fluctuation of temperature as his warmed breath passed by your neck.

“And that,” you glanced at Anakin as he continued for him, nodding at the leader of the pack. “Is Chancellor Palpatine.”

You turned back toward the promptly approaching political leader and his cortège, surveying him with resolute focus. If your studies on Hoth and short time in the Jedi Archives revealed anything, it was that the Chancellor was essential to the Republic’s hope of enduring peace. In fact, it was one of the first things you realized in your preparatory studies for the Guardian role— that it would be important to understand this vital figure, appreciating it as another task that aligned with your duty.

But almost immediately, you concluded that he wasn’t exactly what you thought the grand political leader of a Galactic Republic would look like. Now that you were focusing on his comparably slower pace, it seemed that the Chancellor was directing the constant pull and push of their pacified yet hurried tread that would stagger as often as their footsteps echoed against the expansive hall’s soaring ceilings. He was weakened, his climbing age apparent with each labored breath and strained glance at the next political aid. This wasn’t the leader that your imagination conjured during those many daydreaming years on Hoth.

But then again, you were sure the stresses of advising an inter-world union through a war threatening the very harmony of the galaxy would be as exhausting and fermenting as he seemed to be. It was quite possible, that this recent conflict had merely quickened time’s aging disease.

Nevertheless, despite these reasonable explanations, there was still some discrepancy with his title and appearance that you were trying to place. Yes, you had a certain biased image of political leaders from your exposure to Republic lore. Powerful, commanding, unrelenting, which this matured individual could very well be. Yet, still, some incongruity invaded your senses as a modest helping of puzzlement etched its way across the forefront of your mind.

And apparently, across your brows, as Obi-Wan seemed to notice your confusion in his effort to skirt around the two bodies in front of him to stand securely by your vacant side.

“What it is?” He asked, sending you a subtle but curious glance as he continued to maintain a formal pose for the approaching posse’s field of vision.

This comment seemed to garner Anakin’s attention as well as, he too, peeked at your searching expression out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s just…” you paused, trying to find the words.

You dissected the Chancellor once more for a few seconds longer, taking in his entire figure as a tenuous realization washed over your thoughts before retreating back into the depths of your mind.

“He’s shorter than I expected.”

You caught Obi-Wan raising an amused brow as he glanced across you. Following his line of sight, you were met with Anakin’s pursed lips and cheeks that had reddened ever so slightly. The waver was brief as he swiftly hushed you with great enthusiasm, adding a moderate, yet covert, elbow to the arm

“He’s going to hear you,” the Chosen One whispered through gritted teeth while leaning behind your ear.

You lightly swatted away his protruding arm, but it was virtually redundant. Instead, by his own volition, Anakin quickly adopted an almost ritualistic posture for the Council’s slowing stride when he noticed the Chancellor’s features lift in recognition, a gentle smile creasing the older gentleman’s dried lips as he gazed at the young Jedi.

“Master Skywalker!” He exclaimed happily with a weary voice as he halted, stalling the pace of each being who loyally heeded his movements.

The three of you stepped forward toward the welcoming politician.

“It’s good to see you, Your Excellency,” Anakin announced in ceremonious continuity as he bowed respectfully toward the fatigued Chancellor.

“And you as well,” he spoke warmly, cheeks crinkled.

“Chancellor,” Obi-Wan politely nodded toward him. “I trust your trip to the Temple was as fruitful as you hoped?”

Palpatine breathily chuckled. “Yes, Master Kenobi. Thank you for your diligence in asking.”

The other human, with jet black, combed-over hair, striking brows, and a goatee, humbly stepped in, seemingly hoping to save the Chancellor’s energy as he spoke on his behalf.

“Master Yoda and Master Windu have informed us about the temporary communications blackout.”

“Yes,” Palpatine agreed, nodding toward the man stood beside him. “Senator Organa, the rest of the Security Council, and I are all very comforted to know that the system wasn’t damaged in some way. I was concerned when my colleagues and I were not able to get through to The Council using our holocomms. Thankfully, the Jedi have been as proactive as always in addressing these kinds of threats.”

Just as he finished, you noticed an air of curiosity lining the Chancellor’s faded brows once his peripheral caught your figure between the two Jedi. His tender expression turned toward you as he offered a kind greeting. Only in that second, had you noticed that his good-natured countenance began to loosen spinal muscles you didn’t realize were tense.

Politics, and all those who commanded that world, were foreign to you. Having lived on an ungoverned, albeit forsaken, planet, it was not something you came in much contact with. Well, besides your holobooks. So it wasn’t surprising that your senses were confused by their presence, you excused inwardly. You were always trained to be cautious in the face of the unknown, and that included the complicated world of diplomacy. You had known a Jedi all your life, but never a politician.

Yet Palpatine didn’t seem much like a politician to you. He was more akin to a kind old man. And that presence was probably what finally eased worries you didn’t even recognize you had.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he acknowledged.

Your cheeks brightened. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Chancellor,” you affably offered, presenting him with a bow gradual enough to quench any pockets of arid formalities. “My name is Silvey.”

“It is a joy to meet you, Silvey,” he exclaimed gently as you rose. “Are you a Jedi? Forgive me, but I’m not sure if I’ve seen your face before.”

Your smile remained genial, having become more comfortable with your assigned name and story in the face of questioning.

“I am, Chancellor. I have been on a years-long mission away from the Temple until recently.”

“Ah,” he vocalized. “Well, it’s marvelous to know that we have another Jedi here to support our Great Republic through this tragic conflict,” he sighed wearily, allowing his eyes to linger in melancholy.

You sympathized with the tender-hearted politician, offering him a sympathetic expression as his dutiful eyes raised to meet yours suddenly.

“Well,” he began with a greater punch. “I’m glad you’re using this time to socialize with Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi. Two of the best the Galaxy has to offer. Did you know each other before your mission?”

“In passing,” Obi-Wan piped up. “Though I’m sure we will all have the opportunity to learn more of each other as the war continues. Efforts to support the Republic often overlap.”

The Chancellor hummed sensibly. “Right as always, Master Kenobi,” Palpatine nodded toward him just before taking a brief yet lingering instant to rake his charming eyes over your complexion.

But soon, his gaze opened back up to the three of you.

“Well, I always wish to talk more with our galaxy’s greatest peacekeepers, but I must be going now. The Senate must be told to refrain from using the Temple’s communications system as soon as possible.”

The Chancellor angled back toward you more fully this time.

“I hope we will be able to speak more sometime soon. Any friend of Master Skywalker’s is a friend of mine, and I would enjoy hearing more about that mission of yours.”

You lightened further at his thoughtful words. “I would be honored, Chancellor.”

The elder gentlemen blinked at you kindly.

“And that goes for you too,” he extended toward the young Jedi beside you. “I’m looking forward to hearing about your adventures these past few months. Please, come by my office, anytime.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” Anakin stated in a reverent monotone. “I will be sure to visit soon.”

“Good, good,” he proclaimed. “I will see you then.”

As he released those final mutterings, the Chancellor carefully began his shuffle forward, encouraging the three of you to step aside so that his band of politicians could once again reinstate their gradual progression back down the walkway. You watched them for a moment, their darkened robes catching the wind of each mercurial movement in a fashion similar to earlier as overlapping conversations and knocking footsteps prodded the hall’s previously calmed atmosphere.

“Silvey?” Obi-Wan prodded from behind.

You tilted toward the bearded Jedi, noticing his stitched brows aimed at the Council’s ancient wrist comm while you gazed at him expectantly.

“What time were you supposed to meet with Master Yoda?”

Your nose scrunched in thought as he rolled his arm toward you, revealing the barely perceptible, flickering green glow of the chronometer installed on the device. And as soon as you registered the numbers before you, your face dropped in realization.

“Oh, kriff,” you mumbled.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened incredulously. “Where did you learn that language?” He questioned, disbelief raining from his voice.

The gears turned behind his stare for only a moment before his expression dropped into a sharp gape toward his former Padawan.

“It wasn’t me!” Anakin whined, waiving his hand in rebuttal.

“We had the same Master, Obi-Wan,” you reminded as your focus shifted to the task at hand. Quickly, you began your short expedition away from the duo, down the same path from which Palpatine emerged, before deliberately pivoting on your heel and continuing your trek backward so to address the flummoxed Jedi.

“Who do you think I learned it from?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth lay agape as Anakin barely hid a chuckle from your sight.

Barely.

“And you’re not off the hook, Smarty,” you called back at him while picking up the pace of your inverse jog. “Being the reason I’m late and all.” A smirk scurried across your mouth. “Better train hard to prepare for the consequences.”

You narrowly caught the giddy lilt sparkling behind his eyes before spinning on your heel to now hasten into a run, assuaged and nimble enough to be accepted within your tranquil surroundings.

That was, until Anakin yelled his response toward your departing figure with a levity so tangible, that you could feel it through his voice nearly twenty meters away.

“I’ll be waiting, patiently!”

You grinned.

—

Your dimmed umber cloak thrashed like a land-fairing scalefish as you swiveled down another one of The Temple’s many outstretched and interconnected walkways. Only after a few more seconds and additional turns on that emerald green mezzanine did you finally allow your long-hurried pace to stifle when you discerned a memorable sight.

Just a dozen meters away, at the end of the hall’s extensively columned aerial vaults, reigned a gap in the upper back wall through which the afternoon’s blazing sun of Coruscant Prime flared with greeting. The sparkling golden light encircled two large gray pillars that supported the downward ceiling’s pitch, weaved past the hanging sage-tinted signs strung from gutters to announce your location, and poured over the gray stone edging fence that guided travelers toward the bifurcated staircase entryways leading to the training ground’s lower level.

You had learned quickly from your first mistake, when in search of the Sparring Arena to meet with Master Windu, you became quite immediately, and hopelessly, lost. Plunged into the labyrinth that was the Temple among a sea of occupied Jedi who further muddled the path.

But this time, you didn’t need Obi-Wan’s help. You appreciated his assistance, but knew that if you had any hope of being the best Guardian you could be, you needed to become self-sufficient. So this time, you chose to use the Jedi Archive’s resources and your own free time to search out the training grounds as soon as you learned of your impending appointment with the Grand Master on this very acreage.

Luckily, your short detour from the day before wasn’t in vain, having shaved off a few extra minutes from your reliably inflating tardiness.

Once the end of the outstretched walkway was reached, you were free to follow the creational illumination’s natural path, swiftly swerving about the garden wall and jogging down the L-shaped stairway to the foundation’s vast cream surface in hopes of making this important meeting somewhat on time.

Instantly, were plunged into Coruscant’s afternoon heat the moment your nimble toes met the smooth masonry, temporarily overcharging your senses as you acclimated to the strange sensation that penetrated each burnished boot. With eyes squinted and cheeks burning, you gazed up at the Coruscant sky, a cupped hand elevated for shade as you took in the baby blue and blanketed snow-like clouds that did little to shelter you from the giant star’s omnipresent intensity.

Having spent most of your life on a desolate, ice planet, you hadn’t had the opportunity to feel the blazing passion of such a powerfully dense sun directly on your prickling skin. It was a rather refreshing surprise, but still something that was quite foreign to you. You were sure that prolonged exposure would drain your physical energy far more fervently than your former asylum, yet you found the sight to be particularly bewitching, and undeniably beautiful.

Dragging your captivated eyes from the fresh encounter, you strolled toward the training ground’s center, observing the outdoor setting as you simultaneously searched for Master Yoda somewhere on the grounds.

Having not seen the nine hundred-year-old Jedi in your immediate scan of the alabaster-tinted array, you instead chose to use this brief opportunity to absorb your surroundings with greater care. Praying that you had not missed the gathering entirely as you did so.

Sauntering forward, you noticed that the arena was rather spacious, split into three graphed sectors with either end acting as a reflection to the other. Glancing to your left, you noticed a segmented instructional zone of sorts, comprised of three rectangular cedar murals of varying size. One was in use by a small batch of Initiates, engaged in a synchronized drill of dexterity. An assemblage of blue and green training sabers pigmented each of their whirling hands as they moved seamlessly before their instructor— an older Cosian, if you had to guess, recognizable by his tufted tail and leafy protruding beak. Beneath them, each depiction was etched with smearings of white powdered chalk, delineating circular footing guides, you assumed, as the younglings followed each curve with precise gradation.

You glimpsed ahead, wandering further as you perceived two protrusions on either side of the training ground’s back wall. They were elevated by at least four meters and adorned with switchback staircases, enabling the structures to prevail as alternative methods for exiting the faded grounds. You imagined they led to additional gated walkways that snaked into the Temple’s belly.

Altogether, the expanse’s high-walled design manufactured a basin of sorts, accented by the flushed blocky jade lamps that dotted every hallow crevice and drew attention to the surrounding orotund panels.

As you tugged your line of sight away from the surrounding architecture to the patch before you, you couldn’t help but become enthralled by the figure ahead. At the arena's nucleus stood a markedly enchanting presence. One which pulled at the very core of your inner current.

A twisting tree, its thick trunk dancing into each curved branch, loomed expansively from a patio that unfurled below. It stretched outwards, each branch seizing the sun’s parting energies far beyond your reach. Gold veins with ringed motifs winded up its quiet body, seemingly powering the amber, oblong leaves that adorned each ligneous finger in calm bundles.

Nearly instantaneously, it felt as if the rooted being was beckoning you forward from its home just beyond the set paltry stairs beneath you. Even the steps themselves appeared designed to usher in all who desired to know its secrets, with the apical sill acting as a lure mere inches from your feet. Soon, the faint aroma of Cardamom swirled past your nostrils from his intoxicating figure, further drawing your attention.

In those brief instances you took to descry the blossomed flora, you couldn’t help but feel the need to approach the botanical feat, feeling a strange yet embracing wrest toward its sparkling striped markings in particular. It was before your mind could fully register the action, when a sudden yet gradually vitalizing string, tied from your collarbone to the trunk's base, finally commanded your legs to assuredly promenade forward.

As you neared the colossal energy, treading beyond the staircase’s final step, your tie to each neighboring aura swelled exponentially. You could feel the fluxing vivacity of the younglings far behind you, and the compelling yet subdued strength of their instructor. Another step nourished the stream, empowering you to pinpoint wandering bodies in the nearest Temple halls, including the assembly of politicians still making their way through its winding pathways.

Promptly, your ceaseless strides brought your face within inches of the powerful beacon, its surging vigor drawing your eyelids to flutter closed while you extended a gentle hand to rest on its glossy bark. As your fingertips met its silky texture, you sensed an instant surge of breath in the form of thousands of tiny little life forms, binding into the nexus. Even ones as small as the avian creatures resting on distant rooftops, or the fleck-sized insects that trotted along a portion of the far wall in perfect harmony.

You delved deeper, exploring these fervently fluid impressions with greater absorption when a new, striking and formidable spirit gradually entered the fold, their pace sedated though consequential as they approached from behind. But despite sensing this new presence, you encountered pronounced difficulty in separating from the strength before you.

That was, until you heard their familiar voice. One that you had not heard since the Temple-wide meeting yesterday morning.

“Discovered The Great Tree, you have.”

Opening your eyes abruptly, you severed your interlaced connection with the tree’s amplifying flow before spinning toward the raspy voice. Your eyes instantly met the shorter, long-eared Jedi, elevated by his relaxed stance against a curved cane on the ground’s main platform above. The moment you steadied, you were quick to offer him a reflexive bow while inwardly chiding yourself for delaying him further.

“Yes,” you rapidly acknowledged before just as soon faltering, like a misstep in your footing.

You internally cycled through how to respond to the 900-year-old being for a moment too long as you fought the steadily rising panic. This was not the first impression you wanted to make. But you still needed to say something.

Relenting, you finally settled on a phrase you used way too often with Qui-Gon in your younger years. And something you had not planned to say ever again once your journey began.

“I apologize for my belatedness, Master Yoda,” you offered evenly. “I assure you, it will not happen again.”

The pepper-green Jedi hummed in thought, offering the environment a brief silence before leisurely idling down the stairway toward your figure. “Believe you, I do. Works in mysterious ways, the Force does. Led you to this tree, it has.”

Master Yoda ambled to a slow halt beside you, giving himself scope to gaze up at the natural wonder. He must have relished in the presence of the Great Tree many thousands of times in his long years at the Temple. Yet his reverent appearance gleamed with the radiance of discovering its pure artistry for the very first time. You admired that insight, so, hoping to see what his sagacious eyes discerned, you reproduced his venture into the tree’s depths.

“I feel a strong link to the Force when I’m near it,” you acknowledged aloud.

“An Uneti tree, you see before you. Imbued with the living Force, it is.”

Yes, of course. How could you have forgotten? Qui-Gon had told you that story many times. Of how all his life, he had never seen a real tree before, having spent his entire existence in the industrial world of Coruscant up to that point. That was, until his Master Dooku brought him to see one right here on these training grounds for the very first time. The famed golden tree that shone from the sheer will of the Force alone.

That was this Great Tree. The Uneti tree.

And much like Qui-Gon, this was your very first time seeing one too.

“Yet your connection feel, scarcely I did.”

A nervous pang brushed against your ribs as you absorbed his meaning. You continued to trace the monument’s golden veins with a penetrating stare, hoping to hide the resurgence of this particular doubt that had been clouding your mind since your session with Master Windu.

Why could no one truly sense your mental grapplings of the Force? It was possible that the Grand Master had answers to this persistent query.

“I don’t understand,” you stated earnestly.

The Master acknowledged your confession with an esophageal grunt. “Powerful, your mind is. Protected, it is, against searching powers. Taught you well, Qui-Gon has.”

Though, despite Master Yoda’s gentle praise, you couldn’t help the new flurry of numerous questions that knocked at the back of your mind like nosy neighbors.

This marked the second time a Master could only limitedly sense your signature, even when you weren’t attempting to bury your presence. In fact, after many years engaging in Force Stealth in an abundance of caution, you had finally taken a moment, an opportunity, to reach deeply into the Force when you felt its swirling openness around this tree. It was just as you did a few days prior, when you attempted to open your mind to the stern Master Windu. Yet again, despite the Force’s overwhelming circulation throughout these grounds, a Grand Master only a few meters away could barely sense your interaction with its rushing stream?

It didn’t make sense.

What stowed further disquiet, was his phrasing. Did he sense only the minimum zeal that all beings had within them? Would he not have believed you a Jedi without already knowing your mission?

What you did know, was that whichever readings were emanating off your life force, they were completely unintentional. How such a muted perception could be possible without purpose, you didn’t understand. But you were sure that, like always, you could rely on your meditation at a point later on to guide you through this mystery.

“Thank you, Master.”

Too entrenched in his own viewing of the Great Tree to respond, the wise Jedi steered purposefully toward its unwavering trunk, cane pecking a few times at the stone below as he maneuvered to flatten his palm and brawny three fingers against its satiny skin. His eyes drifted shut, brows creasing while he connected to the flow around him as you had just done moments ago.

As seconds elapsed, a slight breeze wheezed past the region, exciting the Great Tree’s leaves and tickling its twigs as a few golden flakes loosened and snapped from the cooling gust, sending them vacillating down to the feet of each idler.

“Powerful, as well, your sensitivity is,” he continued while his bridge with the atmosphere persisted. “22,300 Midichlorians, you have.”

You spun toward the Master, jaw slackened. Somewhat attempting to temper your stupefaction, you spoke quickly to the powerful Jedi entranced with the golden tree before you.

“Are you sure, Master? That seems way too high. From what I’ve read, most Jedi have around 10,000. That would be just over double the average.”

The senior Jedi gradually nurtured a thin smile, choosing this moment to disengage with the powerful being as he retracted his arm and feebly circled around, extending his now-opened eyes toward you.

“Checked three times, we did. Positive that you’re The Guardian, we are.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, not just due to the skewed essence of your skills and your sensitivity, but by his locution.

“Is my role as The Guardian tied to my Midichlorian count?”

The Master vocalized his consideration through a guttural sigh as he shook his head at his own being.

“Measured your connection, I did, many years ago. The same it is now, as it was then.”

You nodded, remembering Obi-Wan mentioning the Master’s awareness of your existence prior to your parents’ deaths. Counting your Midichlorian count would certainly explain how you were discovered by both Yoda and your former Master, however separate their independent discoveries may have been.

But even after decades, after hearing again of his encounter with you as a very small youngling and when your parents were still alive, you couldn’t help the long-suppressed questions that still lingered infinitely. They were starting to bubble to the surface.

Who were your parents? What were they like? Did they look like you?

And what really happened to them? Were they from your native planet? And where was that? Was it nearby?

But deep down, you knew that these were questions ill-suited for a Grand Master who held non-attachment in such high esteem. Qui-Gon had warned you of that.

Though despite being devoid of the occasion for which to ask these questions, there was still one, relevant and nagging inquiry that ached behind your eyes.

“I hope to inquire, Master, but how did you know? That I was The Guardian and not The Chosen One, I mean.”

The Grand Master rested both hands atop his cane as he addressed you. “First the Defender and then the Chosen, the hidden prophecy says. Found you first, I had. As had Qui-Gon, we must assume. And born of a father, you were. Has not one, Anakin and The Chosen One.”

You tracked as the slope-eared Jedi angled to his left while finishing the last sentence, determinedly deciding to saunter back up the cursory steps behind you both. Interpreting this as an invitation to follow, you briskly moved, veering to stroll beside him and the hallow pricks of his intervallically pattering cane.

“I understand,” you confirmed while maintaining a measured gate. “I want to assure you, Master, that I will do my best to fulfill the needs of that role.”

An approving murmur escaped his gruff throat. “And as a member of The Order, you will.”

You casually glanced down at the Master, hope tingling at the tips of your fingers as you tried to maintain an impartial complexion.

“Gone through your Trials, you have already,” he recognized while his ambling progressed. “The nine steps, you have faced in those ten years on Hoth. Well-versed in control and sense, Master Windu says you are.”

Master Yoda nodded deliberately, a whirl of justifications seemed to flutter behind his rational eyes as he appraised some grand notion internally. It must have been something he was already considering, you decided, as those thoughts rapidly settled across his countenance, soon converging into one, adamant verdict,

“Grant you the rank of Knight, I will. Though no ceremony, may you have. Secret, your past must remain.”

You nodded, allowing that shred of disappointment to whither back into the trail of Force shimmering behind your walking figure. In turn, you endeavored to focus on the honor of your new title.

Sacrificing was part of the job description. You knew that. But it didn’t mean that missing out on the same milestones that every other Jedi experienced couldn’t still affect you.

But, as always, you projected objectivity.

“I understand, Master. Thank you.”

His head bobbed faintly. “A Master, you must still have. Extended his services, Master Windu has.”

You chewed over his words in the pregnant lull that followed, filled only with the light taps of his cane, your gentle footfalls, and the distant, echoing maneuvers of the younglings following their muttering instructor’s guidance.

It was impossible to ignore the surprise that bounced around your skull. From what you recalled of your short time together, Master Windu didn’t seem to be that fond of your presence. Sure, it was clear that he appreciated your professionalism and attentiveness, and you likewise admired his dedication. But you believed from his austerity and Obi-Wan’s warnings, that you weren’t exactly the one person he wanted to spend more time with.

This was, of course, in addition to the downright fact that no one, not even a Jedi as powerful as Mace Windu, could replace your late Master. He would always be your guide. Your own protector. And you were certainly not ready to give away that title.

Not yet.

Especially when you were no longer the Padawan that needed to be assigned a Master.

Especially, when his death still felt so fresh.

“I’m honored by the offer,” you began. “But I am already a Knight, and Qui-Gon was already my Master. I’m not certain if it would be…”

You gave your next uttering careful thought.

“Appropriate.”

An appreciative, gravelly hum escaped the wise man’s throat. “Understand this, I do. Loyal to your past Master, you are,” he remarked thoughtfully. “But maintain appearances, we must.”

The wise Jedi peered at you, injecting a sense of submerged understanding into the drifting Force that encircled you both.

“Always your Master, Qui-Gon will be. Act only as an advisor, Master Windu will, while you adapt to The Order and the war. But be your Master to others, he shall be. Your connection to Qui-Gon a secret, it must remain. Tied to The Chosen One in death, he was.”

Again, the Grand Master repeated that private affirmation of his head to his innermost musings.

“And distance from Anakin, you should temporarily keep.”

Your brows furrowed marginally as you inquisitively studied the peppered green Jedi.

“Master?”

How were you supposed to protect The Chosen One if you weren’t allowed to be near him?

“Interact in the Temple, you may. But important, a short separation on the battlefield, is.”

The Jedi faltered mid-step, prompting you to halt as he tottered to face your taller form with a pensive dip in the brows.

“Hidden, your true nature, must remain, from Separatist and darker forces alike. A weakness in war, the Republic cannot have.”

“But they must know of Anakin’s identity,” You pointed out.

The elder Jedi ostensibly agreed. “Right, you are. But clear to both sides, The Chosen One prophecy is. Dark the looking glass, The Guardian’s role makes.”

You observed Master Yoda’s eyes gently wander beyond your figure as he sketched some ambiance of lively motion to your rear. Tracing his line of sight, you rotated toward the youngling drill that had continued through your conversation.

A moment of calm entered the space, briefly interrupted by another crisp puff of breeze against your tingling arms as the two of you looked on. A distant bird of some delineation poured out an eddy of melodies, painting the heavens with peppy pleadings known only to its innermost heart.

As minutes slipped by, and the two of you stood in subsisted temporary reticence, Master Yoda’s trained vision endured on the premeditative, processional aerobatics before him. However, no matter his concentration, one fleeting glance to your lower right was quick to reveal that the Grand Master was still transfixed by his innermost ruminations, ingrained deep within his ceaseless exploration of the Force.

“Still, learn about Anakin you must,” he breathed heavily while both of you monitored the younglings lunge through an underhand swipe, followed by a summersault parry as they twirled around invisible, sprightly opponents.

“Assign you to Master Kenobi’s missions once the Jedi are deployed again, we will. Learn about The Chosen One through his former Master’s teachings, you may. Understand his past, you must. Know him well, he does.”

Your longstanding grasp of The Guardian’s journey was dictated by the obligation to always be by his side. To always be there to protect him from the dark forces he is meant to destroy. It was something you felt cavernously in each one of your bones.

But in this moment, you were beginning to agree with the Master; finding it just as necessary to dedicate yourself to comprehending his history. The past that molded him into the Jedi he is today.

It was quite possible, that you would have failed to reach this conclusion had it not been for this morning’s experience in conjunction with the past few days’ interactions. Compared to all the other Jedi you’d read about, Anakin would certainly be classified as an enigma. His past was far more sullied than the greats of recent history. And while you were beginning to understand him more than you originally expected, you knew that there was still much to learn of that realm.

Hopefully, Obi-Wan would have the insight you lacked. You could already think of a few questions that you wanted to ask him, namely why occurrences like this morning’s were not quite properly addressed by his former Master.

But with all that aside, you couldn’t deny the more personal reason for finding hope in this arrangement. A few weeks or months working side-by-side with one of Qui-Gon’s past Padawans was sure to aid you in your own loitering convalescence from his death.

Besides, you were beginning to enjoy Master Kenobi’s company.

You recalled the past week. How you felt heartened by the gentleness of his guidance in the club the night before. And how you were beginning to value that again and again, Obi-Wan never failed to lend you a helping hand when you needed it most.

You wanted to explore these sensibilities further, first noting how open you’d become to appreciating his humor, and how he maintained it in even the most dire or upbeat of circumstances together. Despite the frequency with which it was at Anakin’s expense. But you could easily tell, in those snapshot moments, that it was all the more evidence of Obi-Wan’s fondness for his former Padawan. And you were certainly amused, at times, by how he showed it.

Most importantly, you were utterly convinced that you could count on him in a pinch. He’d saved your life once, and you knew you could trust him to be by your side again. Enough to put his own life on the line to defend yours.

Just as he did on Hoth, when Obi-Wan precariously dangled from the shuttle’s jagged doorway to grab your desperate, nearly lost hand.

And that warmed you.

“I appreciate the opportunity, Master Yoda. I will learn as much as I can.”

The two of you swayed tranquilly as another gust of cooling wind tickled a loose hair strand against your ear. You embraced this moment to study the younglings who maintained a neutral stance, training sabers in various arrays of readiness while they listened carefully to the Cosian Master as he explained their next activity in a faint voice. He was quick in finishing his elucidation, however, as the younglings readied to lean into their dominant foot, setting up for the impending motion.

Suddenly, a moderately sharp throb cautiously nudged at your forehead, mildly tapping like a pesky, repetitive din.

You brushed it off, deciding to instead anchor yourself on the drill ahead. It fascinated you, the absolute coexistence of their movements, which flowered between them through their complete connectivity to the environment. The troop rolled into their dominant side, following through as the back of their shoulder blade met the floor and propelled them once again into a standing, lunged position, all while maneuvering their sabers around each wheeling youngling. It was quite impressive, for Initiates so young. It was a move whose complication…

Another piercing spear at your forehead’s center, this time radiated out toward your sinuses like lightning desperately squeezed to ground itself. Your skull brimmed with pressure at each subsequent twinge. Somehow, the once insignificant throbs were quite rapidly transforming into an unpleasant nuisance. So much so, that you couldn’t help but massage your temples in stiff circles as you strived to lessen the distinct sting in your observance of the drill.

“Well, are you not?” Master Yoda inquired as he seemed to sense your discomfort.

You lowered your hands. “I’m alright, Master. I think I overexerted myself earlier, and I’m probably not yet quite used to this heat,” you gesticulated toward the beaming sun that still, surprisingly, felt like a comforting brush to your exposed skin.

“Rest, young Silvey,” he advised while pivoting toward your figure, motivating you to turn on your heel and face his center-held staff. “Strong in the coming weeks, you must be. Sense a shift in the Force, I do.”

You acknowledged the Jedi’s wise words before tilting into a gentle bow, permitting your body to salvage any extra energy in its small battle against your pervasive migraine.

“Thank you, Master,” you rose evenly. “Your guidance is much appreciated.”

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minsyal · 2 years

Text

The Great Stone Knight, Pt. IV

Sandor Clegane x Reader

Warnings will remain vague and be for the work as a whole as opposed to each part individually: violence, death, assault, my shitty characterizations, explicit language, sexual content (will be noted), and having too good of a time reading this.

Masterlist

Dear father,

I continually fear for my safety here in Kings Landing. Please send a new escort. Ser Lorric has been killed. I am alone now as the sellswords have been dismissed by the Lannisters. I beg you to ensure my safe return.

Princess (Y/n) of Antonia, Lady of the Hill

~*~

Dear father,

I have not heard back. It has been weeks. I require a new escort for my return.

Princess (Y/n) of Antonia, Lady of the Hill

~*~

Dear father,

I want to return home. Please, send for me.

Princess (Y/n) of Antonia, Lady of the Hill

~*~

Harrowing and draining as it was, you persisted. Many letters were drafted and sent to your father, or anyone in your homeland for that matter. Power, it was all those who populated Westeros thrived to gain. Their desire to rule was unlike any other; if it meant killing family, they would surely do it without question or reason. A new country on the western border would only benefit them as winter approached with a steadfast ferocity. The Princess simply fell into their hands by the grace of the old gods and the new.

You walked the halls, joined by Clegane who seemed unaffected by your circumstance. He continued on with his mundane life of smirks and snide remarks. After all, he was sworn to the king who sat atop the Iron Throne and he would do as they commanded.

“Lady (Y/n).” The sound of Tyrion’s voice had you raising your guard. The unbreakable walls burst from the ground below you, encasing you in an invisible shield. Despite his calm and welcoming demeanor, he was still a Lannister. The same blood coursed through his veins and those of the boy who commanded the death of your knight. “You’re in good company, better now that I have arrived.”

Slowing your step, you moved beside Tyrion with his guard and Sandor following closely behind. “I do hope the Hound is treating you well.”

“Yes, Sandor is lovely company, my lord.” Deciding to throw a passing glance to your rear, you caught the haughty eye of the man who seemed to be attached to Tyrion’s hip. He was older, likely close in age to Sandor. The wrinkles of laughter extended from his worn eyes, displaying years of amusement in one form or another. Whether it was from the bowed kick of his legs or the hands that stayed firmly attached to the buckle of his belt, you could tell he was a flirt. “It seems you’ve brought company as well.”

“Indeed, I have.” Tyrion’s voice fought against his stature, booming in a way that his presence did not. “One cannot simply stroll about without protection. Lady (Y/n), this is Bronn of the Blackwater. Bronn, Princess (Y/n) of Antonia.” Bronn gave you a wicked grin as he musically bobbed his head from side to side and let out a humph. “My lady.” He greeted grandly, overdoing his bow in a way that you had only seen commoners and suck-ups do in the past. The confidence he oozed was like thick suffocating water in your lungs.

A melancholy sigh forced itself from Tyrion’s lips, sweeping into the air and disappearing as if it had never happened. “I do want to extend my deepest condolences for the death of Ser Lorric.” The mere mention of his name made the hurt return as your mental barrier perpetually fortified itself; the masons hurried their efforts, working around the clock to keep your façade strong.

“Some knight he was.” Sandor scoffed beneath his breath. His words were said with such little volume that you questioned whether Bronn had even heard him. From the aloof look on his face, you were sure he hadn’t, far more focused on the way your dress hung from your hips.

There was an attempt, you thought. Tyrion was the one Lannister who seemed to hold an ounce of humanity in his breadth, at least of the ones you had met. But he was a Lannister, nonetheless. He did not truly care; he was only doing what was best for his family – looking out for their interests. Currently, their interest should lie in keeping Antonia from waging war against all of Westeros.

“Ser Lorric served my family for thirty years. He was my personal guard since air first touched my skin. I spent more time with that man as I grew than I did with my own father or mother.” Your steps beat harshly against the yellowed stones of the walls, threatening with each clack of your heeled shoe to send streaks of crumbling cracks through them. Fire burst from your heart, you spoke in a calm rage, addressing Tyrion directly. “Lord Tyrion, I do hope you can understand that this drastically puts my intentions of uniting the lands in a negative light.”

After a short staccato of a moment, concentrated contemplation crossed his features and fled as fast as it appeared. “I understand.” He finally said, the gears in his head turning intensely. “Well. I must depart, but should you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.”

Turning to fully face you, he gave a short bow and your typical words of departure, followed quickly by Bronn who decided to leave you with a wink and a grin.

“Some knight?” You swiftly turned on your heel and faced Clegane, the mental walls falling around you as you tore them down brick by brick. His face held the same look it always did, unchanging and uncaring of your sudden rage. “He is a loyal man who served his country well.”

“Was.” He corrected. “He let little Meryn Trant kill him. Any boy whore could kill three Meryn Trants. Your fucking knight spent his nights in Baelish’s brothels when he should have been stationed at your chamber door.”

“I will not have you speaking ill of a man I admired for my entire life.”

“Then what’ll you have, girl?”

He leered forward, bringing his face down to settle above yours but leveled all the same. The distance between your bodies was mere inches. The creases of his eyes appeared as he narrowed his eyelids and hardened his features; he decided to pair this with the slight snarl of his upper lip. Pure white anger flowed through every nerve in your body as you made a sudden decision. Your palms pressed firmly against the chain breastplate of his chest, giving the hardest push you could. The entirety of your body’s weight was put into that shove, and yet he didn’t even budge. There was no stumble, no balancing step backward, not even the sway of his body. Enraged further, you broke the contact of your hands, drawing them quickly back to your sides in balled fists and retreating down the hall in the opposite direction in which you were originally heading.

The doors of your chambers were within sight in short time, and you wished nothing more than to lock yourself away for the rest of the day. It was incredibly tiring, the way your body wanted to slack and your shoulders wanted to slump. But you would not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you mourning. You could not let them win. Throwing the door open, you didn’t spare a moment before you pushed it closed and turned the lock.

Slowly, the sun split the horizon in two as it descended below the vast landscape with a short promise of return after the moon performed its show. Handmaidens came frequently with food, knocking and trying the door handle before turning away in their many attempts to serve you a proper meal. A dark shadow laid at the split of the door, unmoving from the moment you turned the lock. Every now and again, you could hear the faint sound of armor shifting or the slight grumble of a complaint as his legs filled with static. The iron windows of your room had been drawn shut and sealed with a chain, as per the orders of the King.

There you remained. As you felt the catatonic whispers of the night deepen, so too did the suddenly loud walls. The bricks and stones spent hours in conversation, discussing the past at length as they relayed every moment you had spent in the room back to you. They cast shadows of a dead man who leant against them, arms crossed and smile proud. Murmurs of castle gossip frolicked through your ears; echoes of petty scolding bounced off the ceilings.

The once warm steaming basin of water at the back of the room was now frigid with stale water. All of the water’s warmth had long since cooled from the bath you had taken in the morning. You didn’t dare to slip in for a quick wash for you feared the water would solidify on contact, freezing you in place. Instead, you chose to lay down atop the expertly crafted blankets that were piled high on the bed. Your head found a feather pillow, sinking deeply into its silken casing. The night begged you to allow yourself to sleep, and so you did. You dreamt of better times, of better company, and of a better future to come.

“Father!” You walked with purpose through the hall from your chambers, straight into his where he sat at an ornate antique desk. A scrawl of hardly read scrolls laid out across his desk, many discarded in favor of more important subjects. Your father sat with crescent glasses perched on his nose, his hair wild from a sleepless night. There hadn’t even been time to break your fast in the morning. No, there were much more pressing matters at hand. “Lorric refuses to let me train with him. He is out in the yard with all those silly boys who can’t even pick up a training sword, and he won’t let me go too.”

“Actually, I’m inside now.” Lorric’s voice took you by surprise as he patted a firm hand on your shoulder, giving it a slight shake and a squeeze. “It’s not my choice that you’re not being trained, little lady.”

“Then who?” You demanded.

“That would be my choice, (Y/n).” Your father set his glass quill aside as he earned an unamused glare from his unwavering daughter. “I’ve given you many freedoms that many ladies do not get in our society. You sail, you ride, you certainly do not talk like a lady in most circumstances.” He chuckled. “Fighting is something I will not argue on, you will not do it.”

“Because of what society wants?”

He nodded.

“Then change society, not me. You’re the king for god’s sake!”

You stormed from the room like a tsunami, one sudden burst of energy as you retreated down the hall deeper into the castle. “She’s a spitfire.” Lorric said to your father as he sighed and set off to find the smoldering princess before she lit the whole castle on fire.

With the rising of the sun came rays of glittering light reflecting off the sea. The light waltzed through the iron laced bars that held the windows closed, fighting through the shadows that cast themselves over the intricate beds lining in a war of day and night. You woke to the eerie peaceful lull of birds chirping in the distance, singing loudly over the morning rush that hummed from the city below.

Empty voices carried downward through the hall, speaking of nothing in particular. Women chattered together as they made haste to their duties as handmaidens to the other ladies and lords of the Red Keep. Their shrill giggles could be heard swaying through the courtyard below as they spoke freely with one another - unchained by their master’s watchful eyes. Outside your door stood the same imposing figure that had been there the night before. You could once again hear the shifting of his armor, the grumbling of his breath, and the steps as he repositioned himself upon static legs.

“My lady.” A small knock came to your door as you rubbed the crusted sleep from your hazed eyes. “I am here to prepare you for the day.” The voice continued as you begrudgingly stepped from your bed to the door, unlatching it and allowing her inside. Sandor caught sight of you before it closed, taken for a moment by the mess of your hair and unchanged clothes he had seen you in the night before.

“I’ve brought honey and lemon cakes and autumn pears.” There the same young handmaiden who had been serving you since you arrived said, laying a golden tray down on the bare dining table. “Allow me to draw you a bath, my lady.”

“Thank you.” The cakes were all delicately decorated with shavings of herb and rind, leaving a sweet aroma of sickly sweetened goods lingering in the air. You plucked a blackberry from the top of a honey cake, bringing it to your lips. The sour taste of earth and sugar exploded in your mouth as you bit through the seeds. Splashing water could be heard from the back of the room as the girl emptied the musty basin and replenished it. Water flowed freely through a viaduct that was then transferred into a pot that boiled viciously above a smoldering fire. Moments later, she returned to the room and clasped her hands in front of her body. “The bath is cooling, my lady.”

Only acknowledging her comment with the nod of your head, you leant back in your chair. “Have you broken your fast?” You asked suddenly to the surprise of the maiden. Her widened eyes softened as she gave a small shake of her head from side to side.

“No, my lady. I will eat later when you are prepared for the day.”

“Nonsense,” you motioned for her to join you at the table and kicked a chair out slightly with a rather unladylike move. “Please. It would be rude to deny a lady’s request.” You noted, more to encourage her to eat with you. Without a word, she sat at the table.

“Which do you favor?”

She focused on the options in front of her, not expecting you to give her a choice of what she would have. Without argument, she answered, “I quite enjoy honey cakes, my lady.”

The cake had a spongey texture, bouncing pleasingly as you lifted it from the serving tray to a spare that had been brought along. It held its shape well, jumping right back into place as if on cue. The handmaiden continually failed to wipe the look of confusion from her face, slightly elated at being served instead of serving others, but also worried that perhaps it was all some sort of strange trick. You took a lemon cake for yourself, breaking pieces from its sides to eat. She followed, politely taking small bites of her own.

“What’s your name? I’d much prefer to call you by that.” You covered your mouth as you chewed.

“It would be improper, my lady.”

“I suppose I’ll just be improper then.”

After a second of hesitation, she answered “Lillianya, my lady.”

~~~*~~~

“The little lady leaves her chambers.” Sandor narrated as you emerged cloaked in a velvet dress of blood red sent by Cersei. The color was harsh against your skin, overpowering your being instead of complimenting like your Antonian garb did. It was also far heavier, feeling as though they had added secret weights to the hems and seams.

“The big man stands outside her chambers.” You retorted. The hair even felt wrong. It had been divided into two parts and then divided many more times to form the traditional southern style that Lorric had described as a ‘birds’ nest.’ Braids trailed their way up from the middle of your head to sit high above like a headband usually would. The rest was twisted and laid across your shoulders to fall down your chest.

“The King requests your audience today.” Sandor said, falling into stride with you as you directed your body toward the throne room where he was surely holding court.

“For what purpose?”

“For whatever purpose he damn well pleases.”

Arriving in the throne room, you were greeted by a sea of eyes. Each pair was trained diligently upon you, picking apart every fiber of your being like vultures. They judged the way your hair looked, the dress you wore, and the choice of guard the king assigned you. Joffrey splayed himself upon the throne like he had the first day you met more than a month prior. His pointed elbow ground into the throne’s armrest, his leg was kicked open, and the crown of gold sat awkwardly on his greased head.

“Lady (Y/n),” Joffrey’s shrill voice cut through the heavy air of the room. “Come.” Ser Meryn Trant held a conceited smirk on his features as you approached with Clegane trailing at your stead. His upper lip was crimped as mischievy rollicked in the depths of his deathly hazel eyes. Hesitating at the bottom step was all he needed to approach and give you a forceful shove in the shoulder with the palm of his hand - leading you up the steps to stand before the King. Joffrey kicked his leg from the throne and withdrew a crumpled scroll of parchment from where he had pocketed it. The delicate stamp of a purple seal was broken on the page, the handwriting that strikingly resembled your father’s peeked from the rolled paper. “Read.” He commanded.

Taking the paper from his fingers, you delicately unraveled it and looked over the words, unwilling to believe what you were seeing. It was a mistake, you thought. A mistake, perhaps, or more likely a fever dream concocted by the insane boy that began to tower of you as the flicker of your eyes said all that needed to be said.

“Out loud, Lady (Y/n).” He chastised, tsking at you with the wave of his dismissive hand.

A warmed breath filled your aching lungs; the stagnant pungent air of the Keep fermented inside. The gods of fate spun your string in their malicious fingers, savoring the contempt that leached from your body like a black ooze of a lethal poison. Your stomach jumped to your throat and then to your feet, unsettled by the revelation that laid in your palms.

“To the King of the Seven Kingdoms and his council.” You started, focusing on the midnight ink that flowed into words that you refused to believe your father wrote. “We are pleased to hear of the arrival of our princess and company. After the discussion of your offer for unification, the men of our small council would like to extend our offer through the hand of Princess (Y/n) Belross of Antonia. She is,” you stopped, breathing deep and ragged as you attempted to keep your composure. The words that followed were not foreign to you, but to read them coming from your father was like another blade being dragged through your already aching heart.

“Go on.” The boy king demanded in an eased tone.

“She is still innocent. This will strengthen both of our kingdoms for many years onward. I will send an advisor to aid in any wedding plans in the coming year.” Joffrey’s pompous look could stand in the place of a thousand words. He won, he thought, still bobbing his head. “This is falsified. My father would never cast me out in this way.” You crumpled the parchment and tossed it to his feet. This earned you no points with the guards that already hated you, they watched with brutal eyes for your next move.

“You are questioning a king’s words? Even when they’re from your own blood.” Joffrey spat; glowing rage painted across his reddened features.

“I refuse to believe it.” The toe of your shoe ground the paper into the stone at his feet.

“Believe it.” He dangled a small coin of purple and silver wax in front of you, stamped with your house’s crest that he had kept from your gaze until now. There was only one stamp that could form an imprint like that, and it laid on your father’s desk in his study thousands of miles away. “You belong here in Kings Landing now, Lady (Y/n)… So, who shall it be?” He professed with a self-congratulating grin, most pleased that you chose to hold your tongue instead of forcing him to order it be ripped from your body should you speak against him again. “You are far too old for dear Tommen, that and I don’t think you’re worthy of him. Martyn or Willem? Perhaps, someone loyal to the crown? The Dog? Ser Meryn? ...No,” he debated himself, proudly continuing his monologue in front of the small audience, “they cannot marry for they’ve sworn themselves to me, the King. I believe it possible that we unite our lands through you and any man loyal to my name.”

Joffrey grasped your hand and twirled you around to face the audience of the room. You could feel the sparks of thought from his body as he pressed his back into your shoulder. “Who better than Gregor Clegane?” The lids of his eyes widened as he snapped his fingers twice and pointed it at you. “The Mountain! Yes. That would be a perfect pairing. We will have to start calling you ‘The Hill,’ after all you are the Lady of one. You’ll be the lady of two before the year’s end.”

The Mountain’s name came to be a dark cloud of ash that never ceased to loom from your head. As you passed people in the halls, his name would grace their lips - Gregor Clegane. The Clegane brother had earned himself a title worse than that of the one that stood behind you. He was taller, bigger, and more sinister in his intentions to others. You’d seen him once, but he quickly disappeared to fight at Tywin Lannister’s side in the war.

“Are you scared?” Sansa was at your side the moment you left the throne room on weary, but firm, feet. In the weeks since Lorric’s passing, she had spent much of her free time in your chambers or at your side. Much that left her mouth was still considerably carefree for what the girl had endured. She still held hope for a fairytale ending to her grim life. She would tell you stories of her siblings and life in Winterfell, insisting that you must visit sometime in exchange for stories of Antonia - to which you insisted she visit as well. She was a kind girl, far too kind for her circumstances. “I don’t know what I’d do if I were betrothed to the Mountain. I’ve heard stories.” Her arm tangled in yours. “He once tore a man in two with his bare hands for bringing him the wrong wine... I’ve heard that- “

“Sansa.” You tensely interrupted her, patting a gentle hand to hers. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.” The smile that formed on her lips as she spoke sent winds of calm coursing through your body. She was so young, still so jaded to the world around her.

“That solves it. Come, let us have tea in the garden.”

As selfish as it was, Sansa was happy to hear that you would remain in the Red Keep. For she finally felt as though she had met a true lady. She could relate to you on several levels, most being your shared love of feminine virtues. While you strayed far from what women traditionally partook in, you were raised by the Queen – your mother – who managed to instill these ideals upon you before you took off to journey the lands.

“What are the knights like in Antonia?”

“Well,” you watched pleasantly as the woman who followed Sansa walked around the garden, noting the way she avidly avoided Sandor who was stationed within speaking distance of the two of you, “our knights are lovely men. In fact, there are many stories about the knights of Antonia.” Sansa had a bite of lemon cake, which she insisted were her favorite. “Women tell tales of the Great Stone Knight.” Her curious eyes enlarged as she listened dearly and you reveled in the moment of peace after such news was bestowed upon you. “When he was a child, the young man met a lady of one of our great houses. He instantly fell in love with her beauty and wit. She was known as the winter flower of our lands, her hair was of fire, and her eyes of ice.”

“Like me.” Sansa smiled gently, her puffed cheeks pulling upward.

“Yes, in fact, this lady greatly resembled you. Just as kind and poised for a noble home.” You breathed a sigh. “But she was betrothed to another, a man with a bad reputation among the people of Antonia. She cried and begged her father to allow her to marry someone else, but he continually denied her of a unification from love.”

“Did they end up together?”

“They did, but not with ease. She was stolen away in the night, her betrothed plucked her from the castle and set off for his home country which lay 10,000 miles from Antonia. Upon hearing the news, the young man took off with nothing but the clothing on his back, his broadsword, and horse. When his horse gave out, he traveled on foot, not stopping once as he followed his heart. He traversed a great distance, going many nights without sleep and many days without food.”

“Did he save her?”

“Eventually. It was her wedding day, his love stood before a crowd with tears of sadness in her eyes as she faced the man she did not love. She thought back to the knight who held her heart, closing her eyes, and hoping for him to save her. She prayed to the gods, all of them, any that would listen. She begged them to return her home as she longed for her family and more importantly, the knight. Suddenly, the doors burst off their hinges with the force of a thousand suns. There stood the Stone Knight, tired and weary from his travels, but determined to make his heart whole again.”

“Did they release her?” Sansa’s interest was growing with each word; she leaned forward expectantly.

“No, not without a good fight. The Stone Knight challenged the man to a duel, a single fight to determine the fate of the Lady. They fought atop the castle with the wedding’s audience now turning into one of their own. The Stone Knight wielded his sword, and wearing no armor, he was the first to attack. The other man threw him from the roof to another terrace below and thought he had won. But the knight persisted, he climbed the wall and attacked the man as he gloated, quickly wrestling his weapon from his grimy hands. The two struggled for power; one was not willing to give into the other as the princess was the finest prize in the land. She watched with fear in her eyes, she prayed for his victory, and just when things were looking bleak, the wall of the castle gave way.” Sansa gasped, leaning back in her seat. “The stone swallowed everyone. Many lives were lost, but when the ash cleared, and the sky illuminated the wreckage… there stood the Stone Knight with his stolen princess encased in his strong grasp. They both lived without a single scratch to their bodies. The Knight and the princess shared an everlasting kiss and disappeared into the sunset. Rumor has it that they married and lived in a small seaside cottage until their last days.”

“That’s so romantic.” Sansa swooned at the story of the Stone Knight, wishing dearly that her life would end up like the winter flower’s. “Do you think,” she timidly opened and lowered her voice to the point of a whisper, “that I’ll have my own Stone Knight someday?”

“I do.” You took her chilled hands in your own and rubbed your thumb to the back of her shaking fingers. “I know that you will have a brave and handsome knight someday, and perhaps you’ll be the one saving him instead.”

“(Y/n),” Sansa snickered, “me? Saving a man? I simply do not see it.”

“Perhaps not now, but you’re strong. I’d say, just as strong and willful as the Stone Knight.”

Sansa left soon after your story finished with a belly full of lemon cakes and a heart full with your tale. She dreamt of the Stone Knight, wishing for a man like him to come for her one day. Her handmaiden had given you a sweet smile, nodding her head as she followed behind the young winter flower.

“That story wasn’t true, was it?” Sandor finally spoke, his gaze trained on your face as you watched Sansa disappear into the gardens.

“No. There’s no such knight in Antonia.”

“Then why’d you tell it?”

“Sandor, believe it or not, we all need something to hold onto. She has been ripped away from her family and watched her father die. She deserves a shred of hope, we all do.”

Tag List (lmk if you want to be tagged):

@madameasbjorn @yaskna @xakilicious

#Sandor Clegane X reader #Sandor x reader #sandor clegane #sandor clegane imagines #game of thrones x reader

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fang-wolfsbane · 2 years

Text

Transformers Generation One: A Seeker’s Triangle: Chapter 25: Desperate Times

The room was anything but well-lit, just like how Megatron had ordered it to be. Even If it were just him and a servo-full of some of his closest Decepticons, he had instructed Soundwave to keep the room as dark as possible yet lit up enough around the centre so that the bot on the other side of the screen could still see his faceplate clearly.

Their energon supply wasn’t so low to the point where they needed to keep most of the lights off to ensure that they didn’t go through too much energon, but perhaps if they could play the desperation card just right, they might convince Optimus’s supposedly kind spark.

Megatron nearly tsked at the thought. Growing up with a younger brother that every bot believed to be better in every way had its disadvantages, but also its advantages. If it had been any other bot at the helm, they would have simply been instructed to turn themselves in or worse. He wasn’t all that certain that they would succeed with his current plan, but it was worth a shot all the same.

Megatron was about to lose his patience when the wall-sized screen flickered to life, revealing Optimus Prime in all his glory, or at least from his waist upwards. Megatron had half expected to see his brother with his servos folded neatly behind his back like his second- and third-in-commands standing behind him, but no, as arrogant as could be, he stood with his arms crossed as he greeted his warring brother.

“Megatron,” Optimus said with a subtle incline of his helm, earning the same from Megatron. A simple show of respect, the most the two would show each other in any form of formal decency.

“Prime.”

“To what do we owe the… honour,” the last word came from Optimus’s mouth as if it had some toxic aftertaste. A word the Autobots believed to pride themselves on, and yet here was their leader, speaking the very word as if it was some disgusting thought.

“Believe me Prime, I wouldn’t have called this meeting if it weren’t entirely necessary. Just be glad that we didn’t resort to using other methods.”

“Hah, typical,” Iron Hide scoffed from his end, looking off to the side as Optimus gave him a cautionary glance. Megatron let out a huff of his own. There weren’t a lot of Autobots that he respected, yet for some reason he always felt himself compelled to feel that way about the red mech that seemed to tolerate him just as much as he did him.

From the corner of his own optic, Megatron could see Starscream’s taunting smirk, Ravage’s irritation, and Soundwave’s always impassive blank stare. He knew that Starscream was merely biding his time, waiting for another chance to throw his sire under the astro belt, but with Soundwave and his uncle present – or somewhat visible at least – he would keep his lips pressed for a little while longer.

“To be perfectly candid Megatron, I’m surprised that you would go so far as to call to brag over the little one of your soldiers managed to get away with,” Optimus hummed, turning his attention back to the opposing side. “It seems rather… petty coming from you.”

Megatron blinked. Brag? Petty? What in the ever-loving Allspark was Optimus talking about? He would have expected words like that to be used against Starscream, but him? That was a low blow, especially from Optimus.

“What are you talking about?” Megatron questioned, all too aware of the frown that crossed his own lips. Starscream, even Soundwave, seemed just as surprised by the scrapping sounds of their peds moving closer across the floor from behind him. He raised a servo to tell them to stand down, for now.

“Ye know exactly what he’s talkin’ ‘bout you Decepti-scum,” Iron Hide retorted on behalf of his leader, his own lips pulled into a scowl as he glared at the mech across the screen, possibly wishing that he could teach him a thing or two in the ways of combat. Megatron felt all too obligated to indulge him.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be questioning it, now would I?” Megatron made clear, turning his attention to his younger brother, a flicker from one of the neon purple lights in the distance lighting his faceplate up every couple clicks.

Mind games wasn’t something that Megatron was against using in the field, even the war room, but Optimus must have known that he didn’t have any reason, none clear enough anyway, to try and use one in the current situation.

Optimus nodded, turning his helm in the opposite direction to look the other mech that stood by. “Jazz, bring up the hallway feed.”

With a nod of his own, Jazz temporarily disappeared off screen and soon after, a smaller video feed showed up in the upper right corner of the call screen. At first the video showed nothing but an empty hallway that was soon filled by a couple of mechs and a cassette that headed straight into a room opposite them.

Becoming irritated by a video that showed him no reason of Optimus’s more than usual hostility, Megatron prepared himself to question if the red, blue, and white Autobot had fried his circuits when the main event happened.

Without any warning, an Earth-type alternate car mode practically crashed out of the room the cassette had gone into earlier with his far bigger companions only for some of them to be pushed into the opposite wall and temporarily pinned in place by the human car.

He didn’t need to turn around to know that both Starscream and Soundwave were also observing the video, watching as the car slammed itself in reverse and drove off-screen, disappearing from view. As much as he hated to say it, his curiosity had been peaked.

“Rewind the feed and zoom in about eighty percent,” Megatron instructed, all too aware that Jazz was under no obligation to follow his command, but he must have seen no harm in doing so, because the next moment, the video went from a wide shot to a clear image of the black car.

Megatron’s optics narrowed as the camera panned along the car, showing something he of all bots was bound to recognise more than any. Near the back tires stood the emblem that his party wore with pride: the Decepticon insignia. It was a little scratched up, but nothing that a good buffering couldn’t fix.

He didn’t recognise the mode, but what he did recognise were the stacks of energon cubes firmly strapped to the two front seats. No driver was present, which only confirmed that it was indeed a bot, and not a human that had planned the whole ordeal that changed the conversation from one thing to another.

Optimus must have noticed his brother’s confusion, because what came next, he didn’t expect to hear any time soon. “Do you recognise him?”

As deceitful as the Decepticons could be, Megatron never lied when he knew it wasn’t necessary, so he shook his helm in response. “I have no idea, Prime.”

Iron Hide was just as surprised as the rest of them, judging from the way his jaw dropped as if Megatron had just told them that he planned on giving up the fight against the Autobots. “Impossible. He’s bearin’ yer mark!”

“That doesn’t mean I know every Decepticon to ever exist,” Megatron pointed out, frowning at the Autobot, “or do you mean to tell me that you and Prime know each and every single Autobot to have ever come into existence.”

The only reply he received was a pair of narrowed blue optics. That alone confirmed that he needn’t ask if any of them recognised the mech either. They must have discussed the possibility of the mech being unrecognisable prior to the call if Optimus’s uneasiness was any factor to go by.

“Then I trust that we can leave this rogue to you?” So that we don’t have to be the ones to deal with him. It wasn’t necessary for Optimus to say the latter for Megatron to know exactly what he meant. Neither mech had to order their lieutenants to cut the feed as the screens on both ends went black, leaving three mechs behind on each side.

“So that’s it?” Starscream’s shrill voice practically shrieked against Megatron’s audio receptor as the younger bot threw his servo out to gesture to the screen. “We call for energon and wind up having to track down their thief? What kind of deal is that supposed to be?”

“A warning,” Megatron said, not taking his own optics away from the screen for a while until Soundwave spoke up.

“Query: objective?”

“Find that mech and bring him to me. No one steals from the Decepticons and gets away with it.”

Transformers Generation One, Megatron, Soundwave, Decepticons, Optimus Prime, Jazz, Iron Hide, Autobots, Starscream, Ravage and energon © Hasbro A Seeker’s Triangle and Starlit Meadow © Fang Wolfsbane

#A Seeker's Triangle #AST #Autobots #Chapter #Decepticons #Energon #Fanfiction #Iron Hide #Megatron #Optimus Prime #Original Character #Ravage #Soundwave #Starlit Meadow #Starscream #Transformers #Transformers Generation One #Transformers Generation One A Seeker's Triangle

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doodles-bi-tea · 2 years

Text

remembrance

pairing: anakin skywalker + reader (second person, no y/n)

warnings: lightsaber fighting, talk of weapons, slight language, taunting (tons of sarcasm), anakin himself is a warning, (not rlly a warning but) no explicit spot on sw timeline.

word count: 715.

a/n: random little drabble. first thing for star wars but hope it’s to your liking. this is a platonic relationship with anakin, and the reader could be seen as a fellow padawan or potential mentor/teacher for him. not really sure where this came from myself. i didn’t really know how to end it and i don’t really like the ending it has but oh well. also it’s kinda hard to write lightsaber choreography, someone help please /lh.

heavily inspired by/based on obi-wan kenobi, part v (flashback scenes). here are some visuals, if you’d like.

You and Anakin had been sparring on the balcony. The sun was beginning to set, but you both had already taken care of your duties for the day and now had time to practice.

He twisted his lightsaber around in his hand, before charging towards you. You mirrored his actions, although he jumped above and you slid under him when the collision was imminent.

His weapon grazed your sleeve, as did yours to his. You jumped quickly to your feet, as he stared you down. The both of you circled around the area, keeping distance, but moving in sync.

You studied his movement and could easily sense his hesitance. He was thinking of what to do, how to take you out. Anakin spun his saber around in his hand as you two crept opposite of each other.

“Gonna make a move, pretty boy?” You taunted, a smile coming onto your face.

The nickname caught him off guard, and you could tell his train of thought was lost. This made you chuckle, and he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know, are you?”

A few more seconds of circling passed before you decided to break the peace and began walking towards him, your saber at your side. He backed away slightly, almost seeming timid, but raised his lightsaber to counter yours when you brought it up to attack.

You broke your “blades” away from each others’, before bringing them back together when Anakin aimed to strike your side. Pushing his weapon away with your own, you jumped back.

Anakin suddenly dashed forward, without warning, lightsaber held high. You swiftly dodged, moving so you were behind him, before turning your lightsaber off and throwing it above the two of you.

He was briefly distracted by the object, looking up for only a second, but it was enough for you to make your move. You jumped up and kicked his back with both feet, knocking him to the cold tile floor. His saber flew out of his hands, far away from the both of you.

You grasped your own weapon from the air and brought it down, activating it merely a half inch away from Anakin’s face.

“Well, I made my move. Are you planning to make yours yet?” You deactivated your lightsaber and placed it in its designated belt loop.

You put out your hand to him so he could pull himself up, but he instead lightly slapped it away.

“I can get up on my own, thanks.” Anakin scoffed and got up.

You frowned and took back your hand. “Only trying to help… You’re such a cocky bastard, you know that?”

“Obi-Wan would have your head if he heard you using such ‘vulgar language,’ as he calls it.” Anakin glanced at the fabric of his sleeve that was singed by your saber.

“I’m aware. But Obi-Wan’s not here right now, is he?”

“I suppose.”

“You’re just cross about me overtaking you just now. No need to be angry when you’re ‘The Chosen One.’” You rolled your eyes and put emphasis on the last three words.

“The title means little to me, you know that.”

“Does it really? I didn’t notice with how large your head has grown over the years.”

He paused for a moment, before holding his hand out and bringing his lightsaber into his palm. Anakin then turned, facing away from you and looking towards the horizon.

“We should get going. Obi-Wan is most likely waiting for us outside our rooms, like he said earlier, to ‘discuss important matters.’ Whatever that might mean.”

“Alright. But, maybe, accepting help from other people isn’t always so bad. I’m willing to help, as is Obi-Wan. I just want you to know that, Anakin.”

He was silent, but you could tell he felt conflicted, almost as if he was hiding something. It was possible, but you had always trusted him enough for him to talk to you on his own if something was truly wrong. You decided to leave it be for now. Obi-Wan awaited the two of you.

Vader breathed heavily through his mask. The memories that flooded his memory as he and his fleet hunted down Obi-Wan Kenobi were too vivid, he remembered the scenes all too well. He just didn’t want to remember them. Not in a million years.

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fritoley · 19 days

Text

Warrior’s Honor - Part 9

Fandom: The Dragon Prince Characters: Emelyn, Millie, Claudia, Soren, Viren, Opeli Word Count: 994 Previous // Next Warrior’s Honor Masterlist

***

Word traveled fast in Katolis. Hundreds of citizens filled the streets as the party silently paraded through the kingdom. Children peered at the event from behind skirts and trousers. Many held back tears, and some were outright sobbing. Finally, the congregation led out of the capital and into the Valley of Graves, where all the great kings and queens of Katolis were buried.

Claudia observed the towering statues of previous rulers carved into the cliff sides as the party made their way to the podium. Soren let out a tired yawn and rubbed his face, the stress of the night clearly taking a toll on his body.

"Hey," she said, elbowing Soren gently. "Keep your head up."

"Sorry," Soren answered, stretching with a groan, then slumping his shoulders. "Long night."

Claudia couldn't help but agree. Between the Moonshadow elf attack and the scare from Emelyn's near-death experience, she was feeling quite drained herself. She thought for a moment, then pulled a bottle from her belt, uncapping it and pouring a brown liquid into it. Giving it to Soren, she said, "Here. This'll help."

Soren took the drink and, after smelling it, took a sip. His eyes widened, and he smiled. "Woah. That's good!"

"I call it: Hot Brown Morning Potion!" Claudia answered triumphantly.

Soren noticed Emleyn walking ahead with her head lowered. Concerned, he picked up his pace to catch up with her. He found her with her palms pressed to her eyes, gritting her teeth.

"Red? You okay?" he asked. Emelyn groaned, ran her fingers through her bangs, and looked up. They both saw Millie flying overhead, but the Golden Eagle remained silent.

"I don't understand," Emelyn sighed, rubbing her eyes. "Four times, Soren. I beefed up defenses to four times our usual strength. The entire army was looking for these elves, and they still slipped through our fingers! How could this happen?" Her voice cracked as she spoke as if she was willing herself not to cry.

Soren spoke softly, aware of Claudia watching them. "Red, it's okay. The important thing is that we're alive, okay?"

"That's the problem," Emelyn answered, folding her arms around her torso. "We shouldn't be alive. I shouldn't be alive. So many soldiers gave their lives fighting those elves, but... it wasn't enough," she looked away from Soren, her shoulders shaking. Soren suddenly felt nauseous, and his taste for the hot brown morning potion was lost.

As soon as they arrived at the Valley of Graves, the Crownguard gently placed the pyre on the platform. Viren proceeded to climb the steps to address the people gathered there.

"Today, we woke to a devastating truth. Our king has been taken from us. Slain by the forces of Xadia: Moonshadow Elves!"

The crowd of citizens started chattering amongst themselves, and Emelyn scoffed. "Way to work a crowd up," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"To me, he was more than just a king," Viren continued dramatically. "In his final hours, King Harrow called me... his brother."

"Wait."

Viren glanced over and noticed Opeli scowling at him. She stepped forward and demanded, "Where are Princes Callum and Ezran? They need to be here!"

Emelyn perked at the sound of the princes' names. She watched as Viren turned to face the crowd, and with a somber face, he said, "The princes... are dead."

Claudia gasped slightly. Soren's eyes widened. Emelyn stared at Viren in horror, her mouth agape, her mind racing. She knew it couldn't be true; Callum and Ezran were at the Banther Lodge—

Wait. Callum had run up the tower to King Harrow's chambers mere minutes before the Moonshadow Elves arrivedâ€¦

Ezran was nowhere to be found—

"Take care of my sons..."

Emelyn swayed violently, and Soren seized her arm before she could collapse. He placed his hands on her shoulders and held her close, steadying her against his body. His brows furrowed with concern; her breathing had already become shallow and ragged. He contemplated murmuring a few words of affirmation into her ear but decided against it. If the princes were truly dead, what could he possibly say to ease her tensions? Instead, he remained silent, offering his presence as comfort.

"We cannot let Xadia's cruelty go unanswered. We must move forward with strength!" Viren turned to Opeli, who was holding a torch. "Light the pyre!" he shouted. Opeli looked at the torch, then at Harrow's covered corpse. She glared at Viren and waved the torch, causing the flame to blow out.

"No," she said defiantly. Emelyn and Soren watched as the other council members smothered the fires on their torches, following Opeli's act. Viren sighed, then turned to Soren, Claudia, and Emelyn.

"Claudia," Viren prompted.

Without a word, Claudia stepped forward, heeding her father's command. She pulled a bottle from her pocket, and when she raised it, Emelyn could see a tiny spider within.

"Claudia, no," Emelyn whispered, her breath shaky. She started forward, but Soren gently pulled her back. Claudia opened the bottle, letting the spider crawl along her hand, before she clenched her fist, causing an orange goo to spill between her fingers.

Then she started chanting.

Emelyn couldn't help but shiver as the mystic language filled the air, memories of past encounters with those wretched incantations flooding her mind. Soren took notice and gently rubbed her arm, offering a comforting presence. Claudia raised her hand, and suddenly, a flame erupted from it, casting a warm glow across the darkened sky. She directed the flame towards the torches the council members had extinguished before it finally collided with the pyre. Harrow's body quickly ignited, a thick cloud of smoke billowing into the air.

"When a ruler of Katolis dies, we mourn for seven days. But we are at war." Viren turned to the crowd as the smoke created a dreadful background behind him. Millie circled the smoke in the sky and screeched in alarm. "Today, we must mourn seven-fold. For tonight, there will be a coronation!"

***

Previous // Next Warrior’s Honor Masterlist Ultimate Masterlist

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aemonds-sapphire · 3 years

Text

Caution: Slippery When Wet — Dabi x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Dabi just wanted to take a shower, and he didn’t care that you were in the way.

Warnings: NSFW. Orgasm denial. Overstimulation. Vaginal fingering. Quirkplay. Unprotected sex. Praise. Creampie.

Word count: 3.6k

A sudden loud bang snapped you out of your steam-induced daydream and had your heart skip a few beats in distress.

“What?!” you gnarled, eyes gazing through the foggy shower door only to be met with a pair of turquoise eyes.

Dabi.

“You done in there or what?”

Panic filled your entire body at once. “Get the fuck out!”

Any indication that you might be blessed with a peaceful shower session soon flew out the window as the young villain showed no intention of budging.

Thoughts on Dabi? You’d rather not have any. And not because you loathed him. Far from that Your body made sure that the most hostile emotion you had towards him was unquestionable sexual tension. Therefore, you really, really needed to train your mind not to fixate on him or the possibilities that might come from any interaction with him. In order to cope with this, you tried your best to mask your genuine feelings with resentment.

On the off chance your paths crossed while living together with the rest of the league, you always had your mind set on antagonizing him. You dreaded the possibility of anyone figuring out that — albeit buried deep within you —, you craved him.

“Not happening. I need a shower.”

Sliding the glass door, you peaked your head through the narrow slit only to be met with Dabi covered in... slime? From his dark hair all the way down to his boots.

“What is that awful smell?” you grimaced as the foul stench filled your nose.

“Collateral damage,” he said with a blank expression, eyes on yours. “You can thank Toga for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Go wait outside. I’m almost done here.”

No answer.

“Out!” Yyou half-yelled, feeling heat creep through your cheeks, thoroughly glad that the fog glazing the shower door kept most of your body hidden from his gaze.

No answer yet again.

“Dabi!”

He shrugged and proceeded to remove his knee-length coat showing no concern that you were intensely staring at him, mouth agape in shock.

His filthy shirt went off next, revealing the uneven edges of his staple-covered skin across his upper chest. Your heart was racing at double speed and all your brain could conjure was that you most definitely should not allow your eyes to roam across his body like that. Dabi was too fucking hot — pun fully intended— for his own good, and suspected he knew that

That proved to be enough to snap you out of your trance. “Why are you taking your clothes off?!” Yyou blurted out, failing to realize how ridiculous that sounded given the context.

Dabi paused briefly as he was about to undo his belt. “Not showering with my clothes on... the fuck?” he remarked, arching a brow and glaring at you like you’d grown a third arm.

Panic hit you instantly. “Uh—Just wait!”

His slender fingers unbuckled the belt swiftly. “Doll, you’re wasting time. All that rambling and staring... could be done already.”

He was not wrong.

It suddenly dawned on you how easily he’d always manage to crawl under your skin. Whether he knew the effect he had on you or not, it remained unclear. But something inside you clung to the idea that, whatever it was that you felt for Dabi, it was somehow reciprocated.

Patches of suds began trailing down your temples and forehead, causing further distress.

“Just...” your voice trailed off, but sudden outrage burst from within you. “Don’t you have some decency?”

“No.”

He had managed to strip all of his clothes off until he was only left in his underwear, and he was about to—

“No! No fucking way!” you shrieked in dread, quickly having to wipe a few suds that were stinging your eyes. “Leave it—“

But before you could mouth further protests, you saw him yank his underwear down, which caused your eyes to reflexively close tightly.

A low chuckle was heard. “Calm down, princess. I won’t even look. Just wanna rinse off this slime.”

You were positively mortified from all this mess, and a large part of you cheered in pride as you managed to kept your feelings towards him out of the way.

For now, at least.

Immediately, you withdrew your head from the rack, and shoved the shower door shut, with one hand keeping it in place while the other reached out to grab a bottle from the corner shelf.

Dabi tugged at the door a few times before sighing. “Seriously? You gonna throw a... bottle of shampoo at me?” he drawled out, a slight hint of amusement taintIng his voice. “Terrifying. I can see why Shigaraki scouted you,” he added in blatant mockery.

The sudden confrontation had you wish some random hole in the ground would prop open and swallow you whole, effectively putting an end to this.

Your eyes flew open at once and you glared at the bottle in your hand that read: ‘Strawberry passion — let your senses be filled with bliss and calmness’. Now that was fucking ironic.

Another tug.

“Don’t make me burn this shit down.”

You scoffed. “You keep your eyes fucking shut, then. Not even a peak.”

“Sure, doll.”

Admitting defeat, you scooted to the corner of the stall, your back facing him as you heard the door slide open. You felt him brush past you, but managed to keep your composure. There was no point in stressing about this. Dabi was merely your... colleague? Coworker? Fellow... villain? It came with the territory, right?

You grasped the shower head and raised your arm to have warm water pour down on you. For a brief moment, you were able to ignore the man behind you, and just kept on rinsing as fat as you could to terminate this awkward situation.

Just a few more seconds...

But, of course, life seldom went as planned.

“Sharing is caring, doll,” his low voice rumbled, and you felt his breath fanning the nape of your neck, causing you to jolt.

The sudden proximity sent your brain into overdrive. Every single hair in your body stirred as goosebumps spread from the shiver running down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hand wrap around yours.

You tried to muster a few words, but the overwhelming sensation of having someone you felt so attracted to being so close to you, definitely proved to be a harder task than you’d imagined.

“Eyes shut...” you managed to mumble as a reminder, feeling the curtain of water shift to your back and ultimately leaving your body entirely.

Dabi let out a sigh of relief. “Fuck... this feels good.”

His choice of words had heat spread across you like wildfire. Unfortunately, the sudden loss of a heat source had your body quivering in an attempt to keep your temperature from dropping. You wrapped your arms across your chest out of reflex, but it did little to help.

That din’t go unnoticed by the young villain. “You cold?”

“Ju-just... hurry up...” you said between teetering teeth.

Silence fell between you two before you heard vague splashes of water. “I can warm you up.”

He was close to you once more. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his hot breath near your ear, and something else nudging at your backside.

Your head turned to glare at his half-hooded eyes. “No, thank you...”

His lips were dangerously close to yours, and from that angle you could see the way the metallic hoops on each side of his face strained but a little when he drew a faint grin.

“You sure you don’t want me to fuck you?”

That gave you a whiplash.

As soon a those words left his mouth, you gasped in confusion. “What?!”

But there was nothing to be confused about. It was a rhetorical question from him. You were suddenly aware that he knew. That he had been able to read your signs all along.

Dabi placed the shower head back in its holder, pressing his back fully against yours in the process.

That’s when you felt all of him.

From the hardened nipples to the cool edges of his staples, and all the way to his hard cock pressed against your ass. You shuddered under his touch, causing it to settle right in between your ass cheeks.

“Dabi...”

He bucked his hips lightly, his slippery cock gliding with ease as a deep growl ripped from him. Haziness swarmed your mind, and you pressed both hands on the cold tiles for support, welcoming the water that poured on you from the shower head.

“Say my name again...”

“Why...” you mewled back, swaying your hips sensually against him.

What the fuck...

This was probably a bad idea. You weren’t even sure how you allowed things escalate this quickly. Dabi could snap anyone in half if he felt like it; he could also incinerate anything just as easily. You supposed the dangers of meddling with someone this volatile added to the allure.

And he was aware of that fact.

He fed on it and used it to get you to surrender yourself to him.

“Say it,” he repeated his request, bringing both hands to grasp your hips.

Your eyes snapped open once he pressed a soft kiss on your neck.

“I hate you.”

You mentally slapped yourself for being so weak. Those words carried no weight whatsoever, and they only served to heave a taunting chuckle from him. Even though this entire situation had your face burning with heat, the rest of your body still struggled to keep your temperature up, causing you to shiver from time to time.

Dabi excelled at reading body language like no other. He took pride in being able to know someone’s true intention just from the way their body reacted to his presence. He was no stranger to the inner workings of women when it came to him; he knew precisely which strings to tug in order to get them to crave his touch.

You were no different.

In fact, you had completely and miserably failed at keeping your thirst for him at bay.

And with unprecedented expertise, Dabi had your body to bend to his will, granting you one of your deepest desires.

You felt his palms heat up against your skin.

“I... hate you...” your voice came out in a weak tremble.

Were you trying to convince him, or yourself?

His hands began sliding up your sides, leaving trails of warmth in their wake. You realized you were no longer quivering from loss of warmth; your shudders were stemmed from the way Dabi was slowly and carefully feeling you up. His heated hands moved to your breasts, and without any notice, he had both your nipples being rolled in between his fingers.

Instinctively, you bucked against him. “Fuck...”

Dabi let out a hiss in response. “Sure you hate me?”

He pinched your nipples lightly before grazing his staple-covered palms along the sensitive buds.

“Yes,” you blurted out firmly.

The metallic hoops spread across his palms teased you further.

But before your throbbing clit could welcome the new stimulus, he halted and the heat pooling on his fingertips quickly died down. “So you want me to stop.”

“No!” you protested as his hands abandoned your skin.

“Then what?” Dabi inquired, bringing one finger to trail down your spine, prompting your back to arch downwards and your ass to spring up invitingly. “All these mixed signals... tss.”

You managed to suppress a moan when you felt his slippery cock slide down to tease your entrance.

“Dabi...” you let out, trying to find a few words to say. “Eyes shut.”

He chuckled. “Doll... I have my cock pressed against your ass and leaking for you... does that even matter?”

Of course not. You weren’t even sure why you had said that... your mind was playing tricks on you.

Even so, you weren’t so lucky the second time around, and when he slapped your swollen clit with the tip, your mouth fell open in a strangled cry. You highly doubted the slick tiles would be able to support your body as he proceeded to place his cock in between your damp folds.

“Hold on tight, doll. I need to prep you for my cock first,” his voice dripped with lust. “Be a good girl and bend over.”

Your pussy clenched impulsively.

To say you were completely and ridiculously turned on was the understatement of the year. No amount of rationality would help you now. You were too far gone, and your desire for him clouded any shred of judgement in you.

There was no point in resisting him any longer.

You strongly held on to the shower faucet, in the hopes of it being enough to keep your knees from giving out on you from the overwhelming pleasure spreading across your clit.

He kept sliding his thick cock along your pussy lips coating it in your wetness. It was faintly embarrassing to think of how quickly you’d gotten soaked for him, but on the other hand, you couldn’t really blame yourself for it. Dabi was definitely a natural. You figured he had enough experience to get you all riled up in no time.

You felt him snake one arm around you as his hand travelled down to your pussy. In all honesty, you felt too empty. Even though you hadn’t seen his cock, you had felt it and you craved it more than his fingers at this point.

The palm of his hand brushed against your clit, earning an instant moan from him.

“Dabi... just... fuck me...” you panted in between groans as he teased you with the staples carved into his skin.

Those staples had long caught your attention, but you never thought in a million years that you’d find pleasure in having them brush against your most intimate parts.

His velvety voice came out in a low purr. “Patience... I need you soaked enough to take my cock.”

“I am!” you half-yelled, bucking your hips in an attempt to have his cock placed at your entrance.

The hand teasing your clit stopped abruptly. “Really? Lemme check, then,” just as soon as he whispered those words, he pulled back from you momentarily, pressed one hand on your lower back to have you at a desired angle, before shoving two long fingers inside your wet cunt.

It took all of you to hold back a guttural groan from echoing throughout the bathroom. You bit down on your lower lip, an you reckoned it wouldn’t take long to draw blood. He held you firmly in place with his free hand gripping your hip while he fucked you with his fingers.

“You’re not just soaked... you’re fucking drenched,” he said in bewilderment, curling his digits inside you. “Think you can take a third one?”

You felt another fingertip prodding at your entrance, but you could only nod. There was no way you were going to open your damn mouth. The implications of doing so were far too severe, and you dreaded the idea of anyone outside being able to hear you moan for Dabi.

His third finger struggled at first to join the others. “Tight... just part your legs, doll...”

Doing as he instructed, he finally managed to get the slender digit to slide all the way in, until he was buried in you knuckle-deep. You’d never felt this stretched out before, and the newfound sensation was enough to finally have you let go of your lip and have your mouth fall open in a sigh of pure bliss.

“Now that’s a good girl,” he praised you, while finger-fucking you at a steady rhythm. “You’re literally milking my fingers...”

From the way his voice was starting to emerge fully strained, you figured this was also taking a toll on him. Having your walls involuntarily clench around his moving fingers and hearing him occasionally growl from it, had your ego soar dangerously high. Your entire body was urging you to cum, and as despair overcame your senses, you hand one han settle between your legs to rub your needy clit.

Dabi suddenly stopped thrusting his fingers, and clicked his tongue. “Stop.”

Annoyance hit you hard from the loss of his stimulation. “Fuck!”

His hand grabbed yours. “Let me make you cum. Just me.”

As soon as your gripped the faucet again with both hands, Dabi jumpstarted his ministrations in order to help you reach your much desired high.

“Say my name.”

You truly didn’t want to do that. The fear of losing control and having your moans being heard, kept you from heeding his request once again.

But Dabi had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Both his index and middle fingers pressed against your clit, and you felt the fingertips starting to heat up. He was definitely using his quirk in order to help the heat in your lower belly to intensify. It was a neat trick coming from him, and it was most welcome as you felt the familiar coil of an upcoming orgasm build inside you with each passing second.

“Say. It.”

Obscene soppy sounds left your tight pussy as he showed no signs of faltering his pace. Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth hung open as you tightened around him, preparing to let a peak of pleasure wash over your body.

“Fuck... fu-fuck... I...” you mumbled incoherently, not able to muster any comprehensible thoughts.

You were so close.

Your hips jolted into his hand, and just as you were about to cum, you felt sudden emptiness and were left clenching around nothing nothing.

“What the fuck?!” You cried out indignantly. “Why?!”

The high inside your suddenly plummeted back to the ground, leaving you on the verge of tears.

Dabi gave your ass cheek a light smack. “Told you to say my name.”

You turned your head to give him a death glare. “Fuck you!”

He pressed the tip of his cock at your entrance. “Besides, I want you milking my cock.”

With one hard thrust, he pushed himself halfway inside you, unable to hold back a satisfied growl. Right then you understood exactly why he insisted on preparing you for him. He was definitely thicker and bigger than average. The sudden discomfort had you clench tightly around him in reflex, preventing him from going balls deep at once.

“Stop... fuck... stop being so fucking tight....” Dabi growled, stilling inside you. “Relax, doll...”

Your took a few deep breaths as your pussy adjusted to his unexpected size. He placed his hands on your hips, brushing his thumbs in circles across your flushed skin. It was most likely Dabi’s own way of offering comfort.

You weren’t sure how many seconds passed, but you were genuinely grateful he was waiting for you to finally loosen up and allowed his cock to finally slide all the way in.

A sudden gasp emerged from within you as his fingers gripped your hips vigorously, guiding you along his length. He started out slowly, but his self-restraint wasn’t enough to keep him from thrusting faster and deeper into you. The pace he set resembled that of someone on the edge of losing their sanity.

“You really wanna make me cum fast with that tight pussy of yours...”

His words were like fuel to the fire that once more threatened to get out of control soon enough. Your hands desperately grasped the faucet as pleasure overwhelmed you. A few more thrusts had your thighs starting to quiver.

Dabi had his fingers on your clit once again, determined to deliver all the pleasure he could possibly provide.

“Dabi... Dabi!”

His hips faltered for a split second. “Fuck... such a good and tight girl...”

You could hardly breathe once he set a new rhythm, which nearly had your face getting pressed against your hands from the brutal force.

“Dabi...” you mewled, feeling droplets of water mix with your own saliva as strings of spit hung from the corners of your mouth. You were officially drooling for this man.

In no time, your vision started to tunnel as you were thrown into the pinnacle of sheer bliss. Your mind went blank for a brief moment, with his name coming out in broken moans. The ecstatic orgasm had your pussy ripple and squeeze around his cock mercilessly as you kept rocking your hips against his desperate to ride out your high for as long as possible.

“Fuck this...” you heard him mumble at one point, his groans overcame your own. “Fuck!”

His own release was nearing, that much was certain. He was pounding into you hard and fast, jackhammering into you like his life depended on it, driving the breath from your lungs.

You had long descended from your orgasm, but you were still left to deal with the overstimulation from his cock sliding in and out of you relentlessly.

Tears soon prickled the corners of your eyes. “Oh my... god... enough.... Dabi...”

He responded by rubbing your clit harder in unison with his thrusts.

“Fuuuuuuck!”

His long drawn out groan let you know he had finally reached his peak. Your own knees began to tremble from having to hold your body in that position for so long, but he made sure you weren’t going anywhere. With a few pumps of his hips in a broken rhythm, you felt hot sprays of cum shoot inside your pussy.

He slapped your ass cheek once he was done, enjoying the sight of your pussy still tightly wrapped around him.

“What a pretty pussy....”

Your heart was still racing and your breath coming out uneven.

In one swift motion, he fully slid from inside you, and you immediately felt his cum drip as your walls contracted. “Let’s get you all cleaned up. Then we can take a proper shower.”

You were fairly certain you might regret what just happened later on, but for now, you chose to brush that aside.

Dabi wasn’t someone easy to read.

He most definitely wasn’t someone easy to get.

For the time being, you’d relish on the fact that you had made him cum. Probably not something curriculum worthy, but it was good for you and your ego.

Masterlist

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi smut #dabi x y/n #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x you #dabi imagine #dabi headcanons #todoroki touya #touya #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #dabi scenarios

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theneondemonx · 3 years

Text

MY TYPE | JJK

One Shot

▽ summary: you’ve never liked fuckboys, especially one Jeon Jungkook. But when you find yourself late at night playing a game of seven minutes in heaven with your college friends, things take a different turn.

▽ genre: porn with very little plot, college au

▽ pairings: fuckboy|jk x fem!reader

▽ words: 2192

▽ warnings: implied alcohol use, jk jerked off to your insta pics (y/n living the dream), oral sex (m receiving, deep throating), unprotected sex, lots of cum, dirty talk, nipple play, jk has a big dick

A chorus of ooohs filled the messy living room in which you and your friends were sitting in circle. It was late and most of the party guests had already gone back home, leaving just a small bunch of you and a pile of garbage all over the house. You would have gladly leave the place way earlier if it wasn’t for your best friend Se-mi, who you promised to drive back home. She insisted in staying longer to hit on Min Yoongi, one of your fellow classmates from the same major, but the guy seemed to barely notice. He might even been interested in her for all you knew: there was no way of telling, since he was always so introverted. The only person he spoke to was his disaster of a friend, Jeon Jungkook, the campus playboy.

How do they even get along? They have literally nothing in common.

And you knew this, since you had been often paired with Yoongi for some group projects during the years. The guy was cool. He was really smart and funny when you actually got to know him. He just didn’t open up easily. That’s why, even though you’ve had the opportunity to chat with him several times, you couldn’t really say you two were friends.

But back to the ooohs. The reason behind that childish reaction was to trace in the empty bottle of beer who had just stop spinning, pointing at you and the infamous Jeon Jungkook, who was having the time of his life – judging from the mischievous grin on his face.

You weren’t blind, you knew he was hot as fuck, but he was way too aware of his good looks and terribly overconfident. He was known to have slept with most girls on campus, and you were pretty sure he was more dedicated to keep his record than to actually graduate. Which, for a good student like you, was infuriating.

You had always found him annoying and obnoxious. And on top of that, you couldn’t figure out how girls seemed to fall for his cheesy lines every single time, throwing themselves at him like he was the only guy with a dick.

Sure, you didn’t really knew the guy, but in your opinion there wasn’t much to know about him. He was a cliché. And you couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time he tried to hit on you. Because he did. Of course he did. You were just his favorite type of prey: one that was not easy to catch.

“Well, you know the rules, guys. The closet is right at the end of the corridor. You have to stay in there for seven minutes. If you get out earlier, you have to kiss in front of everybody for the remaining time. And if you don’t get out.. well.. good for you.”

“Don’t worry, Jimin. Seven minutes are more than enough.” You said with a sarcastic tone, giving him a fake smile while you got up and adjusted your skirt.

Jungkook scoffed, getting up and leaning closer to your ear to talk in a low voice, but loud enough for the others to hear.

“You must have had some pretty lame sex if you think so. Hope I’ll change your mind.”

“You’re disgusting.”

And that’s how you found yourself sharing the tightest possible space with a known fuckboy like Jeon Jungkook.

As soon as you entered the closet, you pushed your back against one of the walls, folding your arms to your chest to make him understand in every possible way that you weren’t going to give into any of his shenanigans. Stupid move, since your shirt was a bit low-cut and that only made your tits pop up even more, looking like a four course meal to the blatant gaze of Jungkook.

“No class to run to this time, mh?” he immediately uttered, giving you a malicious smile while leaning with his shoulder against the door frame.

“Unfortunately.”

He rolled his eyes, darkened even more by the dim light of the small space you were both trapped in.

“Oh come on, do you really want to turn this game into seven minutes in hell? You don’t necessarily have to be a mood killer.”

“I just don’t like you, Jungkook. I know you are not used to hear it, but that’s just how it is.”

Your comeback didn’t seem to affect him at all. If anything, he just made him chuckle and slightly shake his head.

Seriously? You are that full of yourself?

“Ok, so it’s another Y/L/N Y/N who liked my photo at the gym from three years ago and then changed her whole profile in a ridiculous attempt to hide it.”

Your eyes widened and your cheeks turned suddenly red. You got caught.

“It was a mistake.” You tried to explain yourself, knowing too well that there was nothing you could say to go back from that.

He raised his eyebrow, looking straight at you from underneath his eyelashes.

“You scrolled through all my Instagram profile by mistake?”

No you didn’t. You just got curious. That’s the kind of shit you did at three in the morning when you couldn’t sleep. You just find yourself looking for weird stuff on the internet and scrolling through profiles of people you barely knew for no apparent reason. It was just a bonus point the fact that Jungkook’s profile was full of pictures of his body sculped by the gods. Sure, you were annoyed by his attitude, but you were still a woman.

“And you did it so very late at night, if I might add.” He said, taking a step forward towards you. “What were you doing, Y/N? Looking for something interesting?”

You blushed so hard that you were pretty sure he could see the redness in your cheeks even despite the poor lighting in the closet. But you couldn’t help but stare at him in the eyes like a deer caught in headlights, unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze.

“I wasn’t.” You murmured, defensively.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed, you know? I was awake too – thank God, if I might add. I would have missed it otherwise. I would have found myself locked out of that mysterious profile, unable to look at your cute pictures.” He paused, leaning way too close to your face. “Don’t tell anyone, but I had some fun with those.”

Normally, you would have told him that he was sickening, but for some reason you felt a pleasant warmth irradiating in your belly. You couldn’t help but picture him jerking off to your photos, and it wasn’t sickening at all. If anything, it was weirdly enticing.

He rested his palm on the wall, right next to your face, and looked down at your body like he was ready to devour it in one bite.

“I recognized the skirt, you know?”

You didn’t remember wearing it in one of your pictures, but it was plausible: that skirt was one of your favorites. Cute and short, but not too revealing.

“Well, I hope you saved the picture, because that’s all you’re gonna get.”

This was your response, when you actually found the courage to talk. But your voice was so low and shaky that you found it hard yourself to believe your own words. Of course he didn’t fall for it.

“Are you sure?”

You bit your lip, nodding in a last ridiculous attempt to give yourself a standoffish look, which again he didn’t buy at all.

He got even closer, slightly pressing his body against yours until your heavy breaths were melting into one another and you could feel his hardness on your stomach.

You did not respond. You were brain dead. All you could feel was your core painfully clenching around nothing and your blood flowing down to your lower belly, emptying your head of any thought beside those filled with the desire to feel his body.

“Mh.. okay..” he said, gently resting his hand on your thigh and starting to go further up with an excruciating slow pace. “So you don’t like this.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was clear he was looking for a reply you were unable to give. A soft moan escaped your lips at his gentle touch, which you didn’t move away from. A silent green light for him to go even further up, taking his caress under the hem of your skirt until his digits were brushing the damp fabric of your underwear.

“You want me to stop, Y/N?”

His words were a mere whisper against your lips to which you couldn't help but faintly gasp.

“No.” You found yourself saying, right before being cut off by the kiss he gave you, pressing his lips against yours and spreading them open for his tongue to enter your mouth.

You moaned, melting like pudding against his body while his fingers started drawing slow circles on your sensitive clit.

“For someone who finds me disgusting you got yourself soaking wet pretty fast, princess.”

His provocative words only got you wetter and needier, pushing you to the edge of your psychological barricade. Your hands rushed to his belt, unbuckling it with fast and sloppy movements until you could zip down his jeans, letting his hard cock spring free in front of you.

Fuck he’s big.

He seemed to have somehow read your thoughts in your eyes, since he chuckled, guiding your hand to wrap around his width and slightly moving it up and down while letting out a raspy moan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and take me in your mouth, princess?”

You licked your lips, looking up at him with your eyes filled with lust while you slowly got to your knees. You never broke eye contact, pumping him slowly but steadily before swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, covered with precum.

“Tastes good?”

“Mhmh.” You nodded with a mischievous smile on your face.

Your mouth soon wrapped around his cock, taking it all in until you started gaggin a bit for the length. A reaction which made him moan loudly and grab your hair, steadying his grip in order to guide your head in the increasing pace.

“Fuck your mouth feels so good.”

“You like it? Is this what you pictured while jerking off to my photos?” You said during a small pause, not even giving him the time to respond with anything but a loud moan, since you immediately got back to deep throating his cock like it was your last meal.

“Fuck I’m close.”

Those words only made you move faster, keeping your eyes locked with his to take in every ounce of pleasure you could get from him. And at that point there wasn’t much he could do to hold back. You suddenly felt his hot semen spilling down your throat.

However, you only had the time to swallow before he leaned down, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you up with ridiculous ease.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, letting him push you against the wall and move your wet panties to the side to sink deep inside your throbbing core.

You let out a sharp moan, welcoming his size between your tight walls with pleasurable pain. One of his hands got under your shirt and bra, squeezing your breast and tracing circles with his thumb on your hard nipple.

“Look at you. You got so wet just by sucking my cock, baby?”

His words were again a lustful whisper against your parted lips, but you were unable to respond – your voice cut by the deep thrusts he was torturing you with. You were sure, however, that the lewd sounds of your wetness were enough of an answer to him.

“Such a pretty little slut. What are you gonna tell the others when they’ll see my cum dripping down your thighs?”

You moaned loudly, helping his pace with the movements of your own hips to take him even deeper.

“I’m gonna tell them that this lame sex little slut made you come twice in a row.”

He groaned, thrusting harder in you.

“You are so fucking hot.”

The pace got quicker and quicker until you found yourself out of breath, calling his name in between moans while your legs started shivering, signaling your forthcoming orgasm. And when it came, it hit you like a train, making you grab his hair and moan loudly while your walls clenched around his cock. You felt him twitch inside you until he sank deep with sloppy thrusts, releasing his orgasm inside you with a raspy moan.

You two took some moments to relax your racing heartbeats, leaning against each other's forehead with eyes closed and heavy breaths.

When you felt again capable of speaking, you let out a pretty laugh, pressing your palm against his cheek.

“Hope this memory will serve you well for your future lonely nights.”

He laughed, caressing your nose with the tip of his.

“Trust me, this won’t stay in the past.”

“Jerkass.”

“Nerd.”

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jk #jjk #jungkook oneshot #jungkook college au #jungkook fuckboy #smut #college au #yoongi #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts college au #fanfic #oneshot #bts x reader #bts

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hpimaginesandblurbs · 3 years

Note

Hi I love your work! Can you do a more dom Neville where he gets jealous of a boy flirting with you and he makes the reader ride him also could you make Neville curse a bit?

pairing: neville longbottom x reader

warning(s): 18+, jealous!neville, slight dom!neville, cowgirl position, choking, slight dirty talk

word count: 1.4k

a/n: ya know... i was never really a neville girl but all these neville requests have me questioning a few things about myself.

One minute you were in the Gryffindor Common Room, having the time of your life at the after Quidditch game part, and the next you were being dragged up to the dormitories by your boyfriend, Neville.

“What’s going on?” You asked him, shocked by his behavior. He was never rough with you, but the way he had dragged you up to his room made you think something was wrong.

“Really, Y/N? You’re really going to ask what’s fucking wrong after what I just watched down there?” Neville asked, spinning around to face you finally.

“What are you even talking about?” You asked incredulously, the alcohol in your brain limiting how you even perceived what had happened mere moments ago in the common room.

“Oh, because I didn’t just watch you flirting with Dean for the better part of an hour,” he commented, stalking over to where you were perched on his bed as he spoke.

“Flirting?” You asked, your eye flashing up to his and all you could see was fire in his. “All we did was play a stupid drinking game and had a chat,” you attempted to explained.

“Well that’s not what I fucking saw when his arm was around you and you were giggling at everything he said,” Neville argued, now looming over you. He looked dark, completely the opposite of what you were used to, and you knew you were in serious trouble.

This could go one of two ways - you’d either continue to fight until he saw reason in his equally drunken state or you could take matters into your own hands and show him just how much you wanted him.

“I promise I wasn’t flirting with him, at least on my end. I only want you, babe. Let me show you?” You asked seductively, spreading your legs purposefully to let him see the exposed thigh on the inside on your dress.

“You really think sex is going to fix this?” He asked, scoffing.

“Just let me prove it to you. I only want you,” you bargained, pulling him in by his belt to get closer to you.

“Fine, prove it,” he agreed easily. But it wasn’t as easy as you thought it was going to be.

He rounded the bed purposefully, sitting down on the opposite side of you and laying back against the pillows, an arm propped up under his head casually, just waiting for you to make your move.

You immediately stepped into action, crawling over him until you were straddling his lap and bringing your lips down to his. He held you hips gently, not even attempting to move you, while he kissed you back with the same enthusiasm you were kissing him with. It went on for a moment just like that, but finally he pulled away.

“I really don’t see you proving anything. You could do this with any guy,” Neville commented, his eyes not leaving yours as he spoke.

His words only spurred you on, wanting to prove him wrong so desperately, but you were unsure how to do that. You weren’t sure exactly what he wanted from you.

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything to prove it to you,” you asked desperately between the kisses you were placing on his neck.

“Ride me, Y/N. Ride me like you’ll never ride anyone again,” he said between breathless groans, the kisses getting to him immediately.

You could do that. You could do that damn well.

Almost immediately you were pulling away from his neck and pulling back until you could see all of him laid back for you. He was already hard and his eyes never left your body. He was simply just waiting on you and it made you feel so powerful, despite the fact that he truly had all of the control right now. He could flip the script on you at any moment, but he was letting you prove yourself to him. Letting you prove how good you were for just him, how loyal, how dedicated.

Your hands moved to his belt, then his pants, then his briefs as you stripped layer after layer off of Neville until he was bare before you. Next, your own clothes came off. Your dress and your undergarments were stripped off until you were just as bare as he was, and his dedicated eyes never once left you.

You quickly moved to sink down onto his hard cock, the stretch making you throw your head back in a moan and the tightness making his hands grip your hips with a hardness that was sure to leave bruises in the morning accompanied with a groan.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he got out through a strangled moan. “Show me how much you want me.”

And you did just that. Your thighs were working in overdrive, not even feeling the burn through the buzz you had from the alcohol, as you raised and lowered yourself onto him over and over again.

“Harder. Any guy can get a girl to ride him like this. Fucking prove it,” Neville spit out harshly, making you only want to work harder.

You went into overdrive then, your core coming down to meet his pelvis aggressively on every thrust. The noises in the room were obscene - between the loud slapping noises of your bodies and the moans spilling from both of your mouths any one would know exactly what was going on behind the closed door.

One of his hands left your hip to trail up your body, clutching your sides, your breasts, before he brought it up to latch around your throat, cutting off the blood flow to your brain. The room was getting hot and your head was spinning, but you were determined to not miss a single beat.

“Fucking look at you, pretty girl. You’re doing such a good job. Keep going,” he mused, his own hips starting to meet yours.

You cried out in pleasure when he angled his hips just right, reaching that bundle of nerves inside of you while his pelvis hit your clit repeatedly. Your hands came down to claw his chest, sure to leave marks but neither of you seemed to care in the moment.

“Only want you,” you managed to breathe out, your eyes coming back down to lock with his.

He didn’t even respond, just dragged you down by your neck into a heated kiss. It was mostly tongue and teeth, but you were both too focused on reaching your highs to worry about finesse.

“I know, sweet girl. You’re doing a great job proving it,” he said sweetly, but his voice was straining as he tried to hold back his own moans.

Your legs were getting tired and you were out of breath, your body begging for release and for him to take over, but you knew that wasn’t in the cards tonight. You did the only thing you could do, bringing one hand to your clit, dragging harsh circles over it to finally get you off the edge.

“Pretty girl gonna cum for me? Cum all over my cock, Y/N. Need to feel it,” Neville got out, his eyes dark with lust as he watched you and his grip on your neck only getting tighter by the second as he too was about to reach his release.

His words seemed to be exactly what you needed, because one he was done speaking you let out a strangled cry as your vision went white. You were fighting to breathe through your orgasm, his hand never leaving your throat, but it just made it that much more intense. You could feel him spilling inside of you, his cock twitching with every streak of cum.

When he released you from his grip, you crashed down against his chest, panting harshly to take in as much air as you could. He held you against his, his hands running up and down your back as you both settled down.

Finally you brought your head up to look at him, and he looked down at you with a fond smile on his face.

“You know I was never flirting with Dean, right?” You asked rather shyly, just wanting to make sure he knew.

“I know you weren’t. I know you’d never do that. But I was pretty drunk when we came up here and I also know he thinks you’re fit, so I was in a bit of a mood. Sorry I acted like that. I shouldn't’ve, I-” he rambled, but trailed off.

“It was kinda hot,” you said with a giggle, a shy smile on your face at your own confession.

“Oh, yeah?” He asked with his own laugh, an eyebrow raised as he looked down at you. “Guess I’m not that sorry then,” he conceded, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

#harry potter #neville longbottom #neville longbottom smut #neville longbottom headcannon #neville longbottom drabble #neville longbottom imagine

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 3

Batfamily x Batsis Story!

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines

Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN!!!! Y'all enjoy this now, because it's only gonna get so much more angstier soon. -Thorne

Set Three Months After PT. 2:

She didn’t have to look up to know who entered the shop, because his voice carried over the air. “Melisandre!”

Humming, she immediately plated a pastry and a hot coffee, sliding it on the counter just as he sat down. “Good morning, Wally,” she greeted, watching him take a bite. “Right on time, as always.”

He smiled, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Morming Merisamdmur,” he replied, and she rolled her eyes with a snort.

“Jeez Wally, didn’t your mom teach you to not talk with your mouth full?”

Shrugging, he swallowed and said, “I was trying to be polite.”

“I think it’s more polite to chew with your mouth closed and speak after you swallow.”

They glared at each other before one of them cracked a smile and they fell into laughter. She tossed a napkin his way. “How’s your day going so far?”

Wally groaned and laid his head on the cool marble countertop. “I’ve got so much to do today, it’s not even funny.”

“Well, well, Wally the procrastinator is finally feeling his toes at the fire, huh?” She ignored his glare. “What do you have to do?”

“Barry needs my help with my cousins and my friends are coming over today to hangout and I haven’t bought any food or drinks for that and I have yet to even start cleaning my house.”

She giggled and reached over, patting his head sympathetically. “There, there, Wally. Everything will be alright. Why don’t you just bring your cousins over to your house and watch them while you hang out with your friends?”

“Because my cousins are annoying and I’m not subjecting my friends to that,” he countered and propped his chin on his palm. “Unless…”

She cocked a brow and waited for him to continue and he offered, “You come over with my cousins and help me watch them?”

“No.”

“What! Why?”

“Well for starters, I don’t know your friends and it would be weird for me to just show up.” She countered.

“They’ll like you though!” he cried, and his hand shot out, wrapping around hers. “Please, Melisandre!”

“Wally, I’ll just watch your cousins at my apartment and Iris can just come get them later, that’ll be easier and won’t force me to sit in a group of people who don’t know me.” He tried to speak but she tossed another napkin, hitting him in the face. “I’m watching Dawn and Don so you and your friends can hang out without being bothered, and that’s final.”

His face pinched. “You sure you can keep up with them?”

Something passed between them and she quirked a brow. “I can keep up with you, can’t I, Wally?”

Wally chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a fair point.” He glanced at her. “They would like you though.”

She ignored the comment in favor of, “Tell me about them. What are they like?”

He inhaled sharply and took a moment to think. “Donna’s strong willed, Roy’s loud, Lilith likes to get in your head, Garth is easy to annoy, and Dick’s kinda the glue that keeps us together.”

“Dick? He get that from Richard by asking nicely?”

Wally barked a laugh. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna tell him you said that.” He nodded. “But yeah, his name is Richard Grayson, but he goes by Dick.”

Her eyes almost bulged out of her head and she was lucky that Wally was looking at his watch then.

Don’t ask. Don’t do it. Leave it alone.

But she couldn’t stop herself.

“Richard Grayson?” she feigned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Wally met her eyes. “Bruce Wayne.”

She snapped her fingers. “Right! The ward.” Wiping the counter, she added, “I heard they added a new addition to that family too. A daughter, right? Cassie? Cassidy?”

“Cassandra,” Wally corrected. “Yeah, that’s Dick’s new sister.” He put his elbows on the counter. “She’s nice, doesn’t talk a lot though.”

“The quiet one, then?”

He laughed. “Of them all.”

Don’t dig any deeper, (Y/N). Keep your fucking mouth shut and let it go.

“I always wondered what happened to that other daughter he had,” she murmured, and Wally’s face blanched like he’d witnessed a murder.

“What?”

She met his gaze. “He had another daughter. I think her name was (Y/N).”

He swallowed thickly. “He does.”

“Does? She’s still around?”

“Yeah, she’s in some Italian villa.”

“Wait really? I thought she died or something?”

“What? No! She left—” Wally snapped his mouth shut like he was about to reveal a secret, but she knew anyways. “She left and went to Europe for a mental retreat.” He finalized and she wondered if that was the story Dick told him to say if anyone asked. Or maybe it was Bruce.

“It’s been like three years now, right? You’d think she’d post something on social media.”

“The whole point of a mental retreat, Melisandre, is to get away from social media.”

Oh please, I know plenty of elite who do that shit and still post crap on their socials.

“There’s no way that girl hasn’t.”

“Why do you say that?”

She scoffed. “Oh please, she’s the daughter of a multi-billionaire. There’s no way a girl that wears Gucci belts and carries Prada purses keeps herself off social media.”

Wally’s eyes narrowed like he was thinking hard about something and she internally cursed.

Oh, smooth move you dumbass.

She coughed and waved a hand. “Well, it’s all theory anyway.”

After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah…theory.” Wally got to his feet and handed her the empty plate. “I should go ahead and get back to my place and clean up before they get here.”

“Have fun,” she smiled, and he grabbed her arm.

“Take a pic with me.”

“What? Why?”

“So, I can tell my friends about you and prove I’m not lying.” He pouted. “Pretty please, Melisandre?”

Don’t do it. Dick will know. You know he’ll know.

She smiled despite her internal thoughts. “Sure.”

Wally grinned and raised the camera where she was in the background. She threw up a peace sign and gave a cheesy grin, momentarily blinded by the flash of the camera.

She spun and filled a bag with pastries then handed it to him. “Here, so you can give even more proof.”

Wally took the bag and hopped onto the counter, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks Melisandre!” And he was dashing out the door.

You’ve ruined it all. This is going to come back to bite you in the ass. And it’s going to come quicker than you think.

She frowned and wiped down the counter again, trying to ignore her thoughts. Maybe. Just maybe, it wouldn’t.

***

Waving Barry and Iris off, she smiled as the twins climbed into the backseat of their car and the taillights signaled their departure. She closed the door behind her and glanced at the mess the two tornadoes had left. Even for the little she had in her apartment, they sure did know how to make a mess.

She sighed as she bent over to pick up one of the cushions when her doorbell rang and she stood up, confusion coming over her as she made her way to the door.

“Hello?” she asked, and a muffled voice echoed from the other side.

“Melisandre, it’s me, Wally. Can I come in?”

She opened the door, surprised to see him. “Wally? What are you doing here? I thought you were with your friends?”

“Yeah, I told them I had to do something really quickly,” he said as entered her apartment. He took a moment to examine her living room. “Man, Dawn and Don did a number here, didn’t they?”

She chuckled. “We had fun building forts.” Nudging him in the side, she added, “I don’t mind the mess.” She looked at him. “Do your friends know? About you being…you know?”

He nodded. “We’re all special in some way.”

Understatement there, Wally.

“So, why tell them you need to do something then come to me? Is everything alright?”

Busying herself with the couch cushions, she waited for him to explain, but nothing could’ve prepared her for his words.

“It will be once I get to the bottom of it…(Y/N).” She froze for a split second, but it was all he needed. “It really is you, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) stood upright and gazed at him. “When did you know?” Her voice was a lot colder than she meant for it to be.

“I had suspicion for a while, but when I showed the picture to everyone, Dick said it looked like you.”

“Really?” she laughed. “I thought I did a good job changing my appearance from three years ago.”

Wally didn’t laugh, he merely gaped at her. “Why?”

“Why what?” (Y/N) knew what he was referring to.

“Why’d you just leave?” He took a step towards her. “Do you have any idea what your family has gone through since you disappeared on them? The grief? The shame?”

She shrugged. “I explained everything in the letter I wrote my dad, Wally. There’s no reason why they should still be concerned with me.”

“They love you!” he shouted, taking her by surprise. “They love and miss you so much!”

“My family ignored me for eighteen years straight, Wally!” She yelled right back. “What was I supposed to do? Sit and pretend being forgotten was all normal?!” (Y/N) couldn’t help but shove at his chest. “I chose to leave because my next choice was taking a swan dive off Wayne Enterprises!”

His eyes went wide, and she shook her head. “I left because the only person who cared about me, was me.” She turned and fixed the final couch cushion while he watched her do so.

“They’re still looking for you, you know. Dick is always staring at his phone hoping there’s a text from Jason or Tim that they’ve found a sign of you.”

(Y/N) sighed. “If you’re trying to guilt trip me, Wally, it’s not going to work.” She shot him a glare. “I got over the fucking guilt the second the flight to Central took off. I got over the fucking guilt the night I laid in a hotel room bed curled into a ball where I cried myself to sleep. I got over the fucking guilt the moment I realized I’ve done so much better on my own than when I was there.”

She marched up to him and got in his face. “I got over the fucking guilt when I realized Barry and Iris Allen were more of a family than four brothers and dad ever were.”

They glared at each other and finally, she let out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already started a new life here and I have no plans of ever going back.”

“At a college that doesn’t have a real name. You know that’s illegal, right?”

(Y/N) scoffed. “What’re you gonna do, Wally? March into four-C and tell them Bruce Wayne’s daughter is going to school under a false name? We both know you wouldn’t.”

“I’ll tell Dick,” he suddenly shot back, and she went rigid.

“You wouldn’t dare,” (Y/N) threatened and he took a step towards her, getting nose to nose with her.

“Try me.”

They stared one another down and she said, “I think you need to leave, Wally West.”

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I guess I should.” He spun on his heel and marched to the door, but stopped when she questioned,

“Are you really going to tell him?”

Wally gazed at the ground for a moment then he murmured, “…No…it’s not my place to.”

(Y/N) swallowed and nodded. “Thank yo—”

“Don’t thank me, (Y/N). I’m lying to my best friend about knowing the real location of his baby sister he misses dearly.”

She looked away. “Cassandra is his baby sister now. He should focus on her.”

“You really have no idea about what they feel for you, do you, (Y/N)?” He asked, and she grunted.

“Get out, Wally.”

“Don’t worry, I’m gone,” he spat, slamming the door behind him, hard enough that it shook the walls that held the doorframe.

(Y/N) stared at the door for a few moments then cursed sharply and collapsed onto her couch, eyes directed to the ceiling. Three years down the drain in one conversation.

Way to go, (Y/N). You did a spectacular job of keeping it all under wraps.

She groaned and picked herself off the couch, not caring about the mess as she headed to bed. She’d deal with it all in the morning.

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joelsrifle · 2 years

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ON THE ROAD AGAIN: JOEL MILLER

title: on the road again

pairings: Joel Miller x Lacey( OC daughter figure #2) make sure to check her character inspo

warnings: gore, angst, off script tlou2, happy moments(kinda), language, radio chats, surprise hug(prompt idea), Lacey is 13(looks like rose from resident evil 🧍🏻‍♀️)

summary: while on a trade hop with Bill, Joel Miller hears an SOS call made over the radio. Something in his heart tells him to go for it, to save the person on the other end of that radio, and that’s exactly what he planned on doing. Go down to Florida with only hope he’d be able to find the girl, only to find out how much she has in common with a person he once held close.

word count: 881?

Lacey’s character inspo: Lacey pt1 Lacey pt2 Lacey weapons Lacey supplies Lacey pt3 Lacey Jackson au Adult Lacey AU Lacey’s dog banko Lacey pt4

“You’re crazy Joel. You don’t even know the girl.”

—Those were the last words Bill spoke to the eldest Miller before he left Lincoln Massachusetts to go down to Florida. That was a couple of days ago. By now Joel had already listened to the radio for hours just so he could make sure the girl was still alive.

A small voice echoing through the other side of the radio attached to his belt asked, "How long will you be?". He gripped the reins tightly as he saw the Florida-Georgia border approaching, taking in a deep breath he put the radio in his hand, holding the PTT button down and sighed. "Not much longer darlin'. Why is—" he began to ask.

She replied nimbly before pausing, "It's just...tight and dusty in here." Joel closed his eyes and blinked a few times before continuing: "It sounds like they’re out there." As Joel rode his horse down the highway, he muttered, "Stay quiet, okay?". He knew that would be the best thing to tell her, "Just a few more miles and I'll be there. Get you and that dog out of there."

Lacey remained silent for a moment. Her chances of getting out of the closet seemed slim. “Banko.” With a sniff of her nose and a sleeve wipe, she replied quietly. "What?" Joel asked, his brows furrowed together.

“Banko, his name is Banko.”

"Hell of a name for a dog," Joel smirked, snorting. "Do you know what that means?" He merely asked for a strong no from the girl. "Back in the day, it was called a bank."

“A bank?” She repeated, oblivious to what the place would be. “What’s a—What’s a bank?”

“You know what money is?”

Lacey again was quiet, frowning despite the fact that he was unable to see. "That green papery stuff?" Joel gestured, "Mhm. Well a bank is what we used to keep it safe."

“How’d they do that?” She questioned, a bit of scoffing sound lacing her tone. “They’d keep it in a safe. Lock it up so no one else could get to it but you and them.”

“Like in jail?” Joel chuckled, “yeah—yeah like jail.”

Lacey shared his laugh, going to make another joke when instead she gasped and went silent as infected banged on the door to the closet. Gritting his teeth, Joel leaned forward and nudged at his horse to speed up. It was getting late, and he had to make it before it was too late.

{ }

A few hours passed before Joel arrived in Apalachicola Florida. He hopped off his horse when it finally slowed, and then, with a knife in hand, peeked into the front door of the ruins of a Family Dollar. The ground was decorated with infected, he couldn’t make out any up front so he went inside, the bell above the door chimed. Infected screeched, stumbling quickly from the back hall towards the echoing sound over the sound of Banko’s barks. It was five—maybe six of them. Many had bullet wounds in their chests.

But Joel didn’t make a second thought, stabbing and slashing at the ones who came at him with their flailing arms trying to grab ahold of him. He had managed to get into four of them before his knife caught on the fifth: the last clicker fought back and lunged toward him, forcing him to shield himself with the corpse, pushing himself, and the other fell to the ground.

The other clicker growled and snapped at him as he raised his booted foot above its head, repeatedly slamming it against its head as it laid under dead weight. In the midst of it all, a young blonde girl stood down the isle, watching the clicker struggling to reach the man until it went silent.

Breathing heavily, Joel raised his head and seen the blonde who had widened eyes revolver in hand. “Joel?” She muttered with parted lips, she knew it was him it had to be, relief washed over the man but so did weary. She looked so much like Sarah: the blonde hair, baby blues, and pale skin with rosy cheeks. But taller, longer hair, and just a fair bit older and maybe an attitude like Ellie’s.

In a rush of adrenaline, Lacey ran towards the man and embraced him engulfing him in a hug. He froze, his arms slightly open, as he glanced down at the young girl, "I didn't think you'd come." She muttered against his shoulder before she began to pull away.

In the next few seconds, Joel got a better look at the girl, whose skin was covered in two long scars. One from her forehead to her cheek, the other from her nose and meer inches from the corner of her mouth. He brushed aside the thoughts in his mind, flashing a weakened smile and replying, "Wasn't gonna leave you here." Joel’s tone was assuring to the young girl despite his hesitance, patting her shoulder her he spoke, “Now let’s get you out of here…get you to Jackson.”

Lacey nodded, calling Banko to follow behind her as she went out go out the front doors of the store, leaving Joel standing there gazing out the window before he looked down at the clicker’s smashed in head. So much like Sarah.

tags: @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @pale-gingerale @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties

to be tagged fill out this google form!

I’m back from the dead! YAY! ANYWAYS short first chapter but—I actually have big plans for this:)

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tloupartll #imagines #joel miller angst #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x oc #ellie williams

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snaddyx · 3 years

Text

A/N: This is literally the first NSFW anything I've written, so PLEASE let me know what you think! I'd love to improve in any way I can. No real warnings apply to this, there's some light bondage, degradation- nothing too crazy.

~~~~~

The heels of your boots clicked down the hall of the dungeons, matching the pace of your racing heart while you made your way to Professor Snape's office for the sixth night this week. You could have sworn that he was making up work for you to do as a small way of torturing you for merely existing. But you had decided that you would not give up, not this far into working with the potions master. This was your second year as his assistant at Hogwarts and it was already proving to be harder than the last.

The school year started nearly a month ago. At first, he ignored you much to your chagrin. You thought that after the events of last year, you had finally moved past him brushing you off and sneering at you. That maybe your working relationship could now at least be civilized. You shuddered at the thought of last year - images of Severus limping into your office one night with desperation in his eyes. You had stood from your desk, looking down to see a gash across his leg that was bleeding profusely. You still weren't sure why he hadn't gone straight to Madame Pomfrey to tend his injuries after he had thrown himself in front of Professor Lupin when he had tried to attack students as a werewolf. You tenderly treated his wound with healing magic, potions and salves before finally helping him to your bed. You stayed up all night monitoring him - you knew he would be fine, but you worried.

After that, he had acted kinder towards you. It was his way of thanking you. But then you left for the summer break and everything had returned to normal when you arrived two weeks before term started. Determined to break through his rough exterior and see that side of him again, you had decided to keep pressing him, continued to be kind to him. You were resolved to become his respected colleague. You hoped to be his friend. And the butterflies you got when touching him, lightly caressing his thigh as you applied a healing salve to avoid scarring - the small grunts he made that didn't entirely sound like they were from pain - electricity shot down your spine and to your core... Maybe you wanted to break through to him in deeper ways. But he hadn't acknowledged anything that passed between you, and now you were back to square one.

Until you had called him out in front of the second years in class six days ago. He had disrespected you in front of them and you had hit your boiling point. His eyes turned black, angry, and he dismissed the glass with a low and dangerous "Get. Out." He brushed passed you then, storming out of the classroom leaving you to clean up and teach the next class. You received an owl at dinner that night with a letter scrawled out to you.

My office, 7:00. Do not be late.

And it had been so every night since - except tonight. Tonight, the note said to arrive at 9:00. So you did, at 9:00pm sharp, and entered the open door to his office with your shoulders back, chin high. Whatever tedious task you were assigned tonight would be done without complaint.

"Shut the door," Snape said without looking up from the homework on his desk.

You did as requested and approached his desk quietly. Sat in the chair across from him. Waited.

"Sir?"

Nothing. You sighed and sat back in your chair, crossing your legs. His eyes snapped up from his grading at the sound and lingered on your face before his gaze slowly went down to your chest, your legs, then back up again.

"It's rude to stare, sir," you leaned forward again and propped your elbows on his desk and smirked. "What do you require of me tonight?"

"I would like," he finally replied, "for you to transfer the ingredients from those jars to those jars." He waved at the ingredients across his office and resumed grading the papers. You scoffed and didn't move.

"I believe that is all the instruction you require, is it not, Miss Y/N?"

"Yes sir."

"And are you incapable of standing to complete this task?"

"No sir."

"Then why are you. still. sitting. here?" Each word punctuated, venomous.

"Because this is a foolish task, Professor." You had spent the past six nights completing similar tasks, and when you had finished one there was another one lined up. It was a waste of time. "Do you not think that I am more than capable of assisting elsewhere?"

Snape slammed his hands on his desk and stood up, the legs of his chair scraping the floor as it flew back.

"Do not speak out of turn! It may have escaped your notice, but you are my assistant, you are here to assist me." His brows were furrowed together and he leaned over his desk towards you.

"That may be true, sir, but it may have escaped your notice that I am qualified to do more than just silly tasks to pass the time. Why do you insist that I am here as just some fucking girl that you can ogle and abuse your power on. Does the potions master title feed your ego that much, that you feel the need to degrade me at every chance you get?"

Snape's eyes turned dark with anger as you spoke, but you didn't give a shit. You were tired of this, past your limits of what you could take and still respect yourself. If he wasn't willing to work with you, respect you enough to lend you even a speck of decency, then you didn't know where you were going with this. When you were finished talking, he recoiled away from you with a look of disgust.

"That you have the audacity," Snape replied with a low voice, his fingers dragging on his desk as he began walking around it, "to speak to me in such a way-"

"The same could be said for you, Professor," you cut him off. You lifted your chin into the air as you held his eye contact, but backed away as he got closer to you. With every step you took back, he followed.

"You insolent little witch!" Snape leaned down to your eye level as he spoke. "Always parading around like you own the place, demanding more respect when you have not earned it!"

"Have I not?! I've been working as your assistant for a year now, and yet you still treat me like a bug on the bottom of your shoe. And after I helped you last year, I thought-"

"Thought what, exactly? That I would bow to you, my savior?"

"No. That maybe things would change, that you would be able to acknowledge whatever this tension is between us because I know that there is more to it than just disdain. And you are too cowardly to admit it." You took another step back, turning to the door. "Fuck you, Severus. I don't know why I've bothered."

You reached the door and opened it, prepared to exit, but you heard his footsteps approach you quickly. His hand reached around your head and slammed the door shut, the other arm coming around your other side to lock it. You were pinned in between him and the door, heart beating in your throat, and you spun to face him. He leaned down once again to eye level. You could feel his hot breath against your neck and the smell of him... Merlin, did he smell divine.

"Fuck you, she says. Yes, that's exactly it, isn't it? Don't you dare act as though I am the only one ogling here, Y/N. Yes, I heard those filthy thoughts when you mended my leg. I felt your desperation seeping from you." He stood straight then and grasped the back of your neck, dragging you beside him back to his desk. "Every day I must suffer those thoughts."

He shoved you towards the desk and spun you around, facing away from him. His hand pushed you down so your face was pressed into the cool wood.

"Is this what you want, Y/N?" He pressed himself into your behind and you could feel his length against you. "Is this what you have been so desperate for?" You tried to stand back up but he pushed you down again. His belt rattled as he took it off, as he tied your hands with it behind your back.

"So desperate for my approval, my respect, my cock." He chuckled lowly. You felt your skirt being lifted, exposing your ass to him. Heat rose in your face. "Just lovely," he praised as his calloused hand rubbed the now exposed skin, "and all for me."

He leaned down to your ear and whispered, "Count."

You tried to turn back to look at him, to ask what he meant, when his hand came down and made sharp contact with your skin.

"Severus, please," you yelped as his hand came down again.

"Count!"

"One," slap.

"Two," slap.

"This is what disrespectful witches deserve," he sneered at you as his hand came down again and again. By the tenth slap you were whimpering. "Enjoying this, are we?"

Snape pulled you up by the belt just enough for him to reach around and rip open the buttons of your blouse. His hand went under your bra and pulled your breasts out before he roughly pinched your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He pulled you up some more, giving him leverage to reach around to your heat. His fingers slipped between your folds and began rubbing circles around your clit.

"Already so wet for me," he whispered into your ear. He nibbled at your neck and earlobe. "I need you to tell me you want this."

You nodded eagerly, but it wasn't enough. He pinched your nipple hard.

"Use your words."

"Yes, please."

"Please what?"

"Please, sir."

He pushed you back down onto the desk and lined himself up with your entrance before pushing his cock in, not giving you time to adjust to his length. You both let out a low moan as he slowly pulled back out, quickly plunged back in.

"My little slut," he grunted as he pushed all the way into your dripping cunt. "You belong to me."

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me."

"I belong to you." You breathed out. With every pump, your hips hit against the desk and you let out a cry of pain and pleasure. Severus splayed his fingers in your hair before grabbing onto a handful and pulling it. His his snapped into you, quicker and quicker.

"So tight for such a little slut," grunted out between thrusts. "Is this what you wanted? Taking my cock on my desk, writhing under me."

You moaned back in response, feeling yourself getting close. Teetering on the edge of coming, you clenched around him.

"You don't come until I say you can come, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

You struggled not to as his breathing became erratic as his hips kept snapping against you, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs. He once again reached around to rub circles around your clit. Your hands grasped the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white as you groaned from the pleasure. His low moans filled the air, making you throb on his dick even more, your body threatening to tumble over the edge. The heat was rising in your core, the familiar feeling becoming overwhelming.

"Come for me," he demanded. Your body pulsed with the waves of your orgasm as you climaxed, your walls slamming down around his cock. You cried out with each wave of pleasure.

"Fuck, Severus!"

"What a good little whore, coming all over my cock," he praised you as you came down from your climax. He kept pumping into you but you could feel he was close.

He pulled out of you after a few more thrusts, pulled on the belt around your hands and dragged you to the floor. He pumped his cock in one hand, the other on the desk behind you, before streams of cum shot out onto your face and dropped down onto your chest. He tucked himself back into his pants before wiping up his cum with his thumb and wiping it along the inside of your bottom lip, marking you.

"Clean yourself up and get out. I will see you tomorrow night at 9:00."

#snape fic #snape #severus x reader #severus snape #dom snape #snape smut #harry potter #professor snape #snape x reader #degrading kink

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shangsclaws · 3 years

Text

Betrothed

Includes: Fujin/Shang Tsung x reader (and shang being a huge bitch lol)

Summary: Shang Tsung is visited by a talented and seemingly innocent artist, who is actually a spy working for the storm brothers. The snake takes quite the liking to them, but Fujin had eyes on them 'first'.

Note: i know i said i was taking a break but i finished writing this a few mins ago and had to post it >.< still on that break tho! hehe

Shang Tsung eyed the soul phylactery with quiet intrigue, not quite admiring the gear, but more the artist who had gifted it to him. Yes, he liked it, he answered their sheepish question, and he would very much like more.

It wasn’t so much that the artist was shy, but rather terrified. Shang Tsung was a dangerous weapon if nothing else. Why did they ever agree to this?

The artist grinned crookedly to the sorcerer, bowing with their hands tucked neatly in front of them. They were glad he enjoyed it.

The snake chuckled.

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, dear. I keep people like you around, you know.”

Around? Perhaps he meant to say alive…

“Artists are free from my cruelty. Or their creations, rather. Things like this are hard to come by these days,” the snake began, setting the phylactery down onto the nearest tabletop, “so long as you continue your work, then I’ve no reason to be rid of you.”

They blinked, nodding and saying nothing. The poor thing was unsure whether to be thankful or to cry. Or to run.

“Come with me, my dear. I haven’t had a visitor like you in ages.”

“This is ridiculous, brother.”

“We instructed them to alert us should they come into any danger. They know how to contact us. Calm your nerves, Fujin.”

“Calm my nerves..." Fujin echoed under his breath, exasperated, "it’s been hours. We’ve heard nothing.”

The thunder god merely sighed, knowing full well what was on his brother's mind.

"Set your preferences aside, Fujin. The information we gather through them will be vital to-"

“I am leaving," the wind god interrupted, beginning his pace out of the sky temple.

"Fujin-"

"Their life is more important than all this damned information."

The singsong jingle of his armour could have entranced the little artist then and there. Shang Tsung walked two and three paces ahead, head held high enough to practically greet the storm brothers above, reeking of a pleasant Outworld musk. If it wasn't the clanging of his belt that hypnotized them, then it was the scent that the sorcerer left in his wake. Was it his hair? His clothes?

He said he'd bring them to the courtyard.

"I've been looking for a replacement for my other craftsman," he began, raising his voice slightly as he did not turn to face the artist, "they died by means unknown to me."

Shang Tsung stopped squarely in the centre of the courtyard, as if all the stars aligned in that spot of his island, turning around finally to reveal a placid grin. "I'm glad you look just as delightful as your work, dear. Simply refreshing." He complimented.

"Admittedly I cannot say the same about my last one..."

The snake's eyes left the artist's at last — any later and he would have relished their nearly bloodshot cheeks — before the whole island began to shake. A rumble, akin to the distant chuckle of thunder, followed. "Take my arm," he told the artist hurriedly, "quick."

Drawing near, the visitor took the sorcerer's arm into their own. Their heart began to race at his scent, the proximity of his hardened bicep to theirs, until a violent flash of green suddenly suspended itself in midair. The ground shook violently now, ghastly and pained groans sounding afterwards, before the artist realized that Shang Tsung was in the midst of summoning his entire well of souls. They held him flush against their chest, warry they might fall from all the shaking.

When the chaos had ceased, Shang Tsung looked to the artist teasingly.

"You can let go now."

"Oh," they muttered, "...right."

Adorable.

Shang Tsung took a step forward, gesturing his hand towards the souls suspended in midair before them, "I have these many souls I'd like to be stored in your phylacteries. By when, I've yet to set a date..."

The snake drew closer, taking their right hand into his own, "...although I'm sure these fingers are hardworking."

The sorcerer bowed, his coal black tresses spilling over his shoulders. His lips fell gently upon their knuckles, whilst his eyes, dark and severe, never deterred from theirs.

Was he sizing up his next victim? And must he do it so endearingly?

"Sorcerer!" barked an airy voice suddenly, interrupting Shang Tsung's gesture, "move away from them!"

Fujin's unmistakable stature stood a few inches from the two, his crossbow trained imposingly at the still bowing snake. Shang Tsung straightened his posture, letting go of his visitor's fingers to fall back to their side.

Hands tucked neatly behind his back now, the snake's brows pulled themselves taught. "I can never have nice things, can I?"

"Step back. Now."

The snake sighed, bearing his palms as he raised them to the level of his eyes. Two steps backward were all he took.

"Are you alright?" The wind god began pacing towards the artist, still trying to comprehend how Fujin arrived so silently, "did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine," they informed him, now further baffled by the hand that he placed on their shoulder. Fujin squeezed, as if to assure them that things were alright. Or perhaps to give himself his own peace of mind.

The artist had never seen such worry in his eyes before.

"Raiden's ideas are always ridiculous," he muttered silently to himself, before turning back to the sorcerer. "You will do no business with them, Shang Tsung. They work with me."

"Work," the sorcerer scoffed lowly, "you look at them as if they're your betrothed. Are you not aware of how incapable you are at lying, demi-god?"

The artist blinked profusely, "betrothed?"

Fujin struggled to find the words for a moment, a panicked expression washing over his hardened features. He quickly shook his head then, either to rid himself of his racing thoughts, or out of denial of the snake's observations. "You are speaking nonsense."

Shang Tsung's chin tucked into his neck slightly, a teasing and devilishly amused grin gracing his face. He had discovered something he clearly wasn't supposed to have.

"Have you any...unspoken feelings, demi-god?" He prodded.

"...none, Shang Tsung," replied the wind god venomously, “and that should never concern you."

A grin turned to a blatant smile, the snake tilting his head tauntingly. "Then why the nerves? I might have laid a finger on them, but I didn't hurt them?"

Fujin remained silent, the snake seeing his opportunity to continue.

"...I only kissed their fingers, Fujin."

A frightening mixture of embarrassment and bloody hostility had presented upon the wind god's face. The artist was too terrified of his expression to even bother putting two and two together, tensed as they waited to hear what Fujin had to say next.

Without a courteous warning, Raiden's brother summoned a wind beneath the artist. They yelped, shocked by the sudden sensation of their feet off the ground. "We are leaving," Fujin hissed finally, summoning his own wind beneath him.

They moved swiftly away, up and up from the island and towards the sky temple. But, before the artist could notice the blood red flush upon Fujin's cheeks — was he furious or… or what? What was he? — the sorcerer let out a bellowing laugh.

"He's worth nothing, my dear!" The snake jeered from below, the sound of a loud smile in his tone, "at least I'm more well spoken than that coward!"

masterlist

#NOT MAKING PROMISES BUT IF I MADE PART TWO THEN FUJIN IS *SCHOOLING* SHANG'S ASS LMAOOOO #mortal kombat #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #fujin #shang tsung #fujin x reader #shang tsung x reader #shang u insufferable bitch why did i write you like this 😭#mortal kombat x reader

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harrysgloves · 3 years

Text

The Devil You Know

Harry Styles x Reader

Story Summary: CEO!Harry punishes reader in his office after catching her flirting with his coworker.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: Language // This is just straight up p*rn // Daddy kink // Spanking (belt) // Oral Sex (male receiving) // Vaginal Sex // Anal Sex // Degrading // The slightest bit of choking // Probably a whole lot more that I’m missing // Not edited... sorry

Authors Note: Another work in progress finally DONE! YAY! Hope you guys like it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated so much! Thank you guys so much for reading. xx

>>><<<

Your high heels clicked against the cold marble tile of the lobby floor for the second time that day. Your billowing black winter coat hit your knees with every step you took towards the elevator.

You could have seen him earlier but his secretary swore he was busy. Like he could ever be too busy for you. You scoffed, a roll of your pretty eyes before telling this no-good conniving bitch what was up.

"Tell my daddy that his girl was here," You said, tongue wetting your lips as you leaned over her desk. Your perfectly manicured hands landing loudly over the papers she should have been working on instead of hitting on your man. "And just so we're very clear on something, sweetheart. He's not my father."

You turned on the spot, hips swaying just a bit extra as you marched yourself back down to the elevator. Grumbling under your breath the whole way.

Who did she think she was?

Harry was yours. Your daddy, your sweetheart, your boyfriend. You two had been together for years. Your name was tattooed in red ink on his wrist for fuck sakes but that sense of jealousy burned deep into the pit of your stomach.

The vibration from your phone was the only thing that pulled you out of your thoughts to go up there and teach that girl a lesson on who ran the show around here. His picture flashed across your screen. You scoffed, ignoring the call, and shoving the phone back into your expense handbag. Yes, it was against his stupid rules to ignore his phone calls but you were pissed. He could go screw Karen, or Tina, or whatever her name was for all you cared.

"Bad day?" The sound of another voice in the elevator made you jump. You didn't even notice someone else in here when you got on. How long had he been watching you throw a fit?

"You could say that." You sighed, your back leaning against the cool metal of the elevator as it reached the bottom floor. Door opening to reveal the perfectly decorated lobby floor.

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't have bad days." He flashed a smile towards you when you chuckled, shaking your head at him. He was cute, you'd give him that, but he was no Harry.

"I'll keep that in mind." You said as you started to walk out in front of him. Until your heel caught on the ledge of where the elevator met the floor. Your hands desperately trying to catch onto something before you hit your ass on the ground. You weren't dressed to be falling. A small silk camisole dress paired with no underwear didn't make for a good look if you landed with your legs wide open right now.

Plus, that pretty pink plug Harry had fucked into your ass that morning before leaving you wanting and needy didn't exactly seem like the best thing to be landing on.

The hands around your waist was the only thing that saved you from mortifying public embarrassment. Your arms against his toned chest as he held you inches from the ground.

"Thanks." You breathed out, a cheeky smile on his face when he lifted you back to your feet.

"Well," he said, his arms still on the small of your waist. "I'm part-time broker, full-time knight in shining armor."

You laughed that big deep luscious laugh that made Harry fall in love with you. Your hand ran over his chest to lay back down the collar of his suit that you had grabbed. You backed away without a second thought, thanking him yet again before leaving the building.

Not once seeing Harry's fuming face staring you down from the stairwell.

>>>

"Kristen?" Harry asked as he exited his office. His eyebrows scrunched together when he opened his door to see the new girl sitting there with no you in sight. He could have sworn he heard your voice.

"It's Catherine." She corrected what he assumed to be a flirty look crossed her face as he stood in front of her desk.

"Right. Anyway, was a girl jus' out 'ere looking fo' me?" He asked, describing you down to what you were wearing for the day. The mental picture of you sauntering around the apartment in that fucking dress when he didn't have the time to do what he really wanted to do to you that morning played in his mind.

"Uh, well, someone was but she ran off pretty quickly." She lied with a shrug of her shoulders. Harry's eyes narrowed at her when her cheeks flamed red.

Why did he always end up with the crazy assistants?

"Y'sure 'bout that?" He asked again, his hardening stare made her splutter and crack as he rounded her desk to stand directly in front of her.

"You were busy, Mr. Styles, I sent her away." She mumbled, her eyes flashing away from him when he cursed under his breath.

He already knew what you'd be thinking. His hands fished in his suit pocket for his phone to press your icon. One ring, two rings, voice-mail. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of how insecure you could get sometimes.

Not like you ever needed to be insecure. He thought you were a total knockout. Plus, he was absolutely head over heels in love with you.

"Y'can pack up yeh things." He said as he slid his phone back into his pocket. Her eyes widened at his words, fake apologies started, but he didn't care. He only wanted to make sure you were okay. He needed to reassure you that you had no reason to feel insecure or jealous.

You were the only girl for him.

His fast steps down the stairs got him to the lobby in no time. Whatever thankfulness he had to catch you before you left was gone the second he saw that bastard touch you.

He swore his eyes could have shot flames through that curly headed asshole. His chest pounded with a rage he didn't know he could feel when you laughed. God, that fucking laugh. His tongue wet his lips before his teeth ground together.

You touched him. Your hands ran down his chest, smoothing out his suit, like you'd done for him so many times. Your fingers lingered a second too long. The guys hands tightened into the fleshy curves of your hips a little too much, pulling you in closer to him before you eventually walked off.

Your bouncing ass caught the attention of the guy who had touched you. Shameless staring at his fucking girl while you walked out of the building. He had to repeatedly remind himself that he couldn't beat the shit out of his own employees.

His fist unclenched when you were long gone. He brought his phone out once again to send you a text.

My office. 7pm.

>>>

You stormed through the lobby, up the elevator, not paying any mind to the people around you. Ready to burst into an angry monsoon of jealousy, when the sight of his empty receptionist desk stopped you in your spot. Her things, gone. A baron desk with no sign of a girl simply gone for the evening greeted you.

He'd fired her.

Suddenly, the anger you'd had bubbling in your stomach faded. Replaced with that sinking feeling of guilt. He always seemed to know what was bothering you, even before you talked to him about it. Which was just another one of the many reasons you loved him so much.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as your hand laid on the doorknob, knowing he was going to be upset with you. It took everything in you to swing open the door to his office exactly at 7 on the dot. Not a minute early but not daring to be late after your little show of ignoring him earlier.

His stiff demeanor screamed you were in trouble as you shut the door behind you. You swallowed thickly, heels clicking hesitantly against his floor as you made your way to his desk. Your fingers skimming the dark oak wood as you moved around to stand in front of him. Your bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you glanced down to see he hadn't moved a muscle.

No words had been spoken through the tense air. No sound dared to come from you. You knew better, knew how upset he got when you ignored him. So you stood, perfectly still in front of where he sat, your sight hyper focused on the scratch marks on his desk instead of his intense eyes.

You'd have to be easier on this desk in the future but you had a feeling today wasn't going to be the day.

"Got somethin' to say fo' yehself?" His voice was hard, leaving no room for your shit tonight. You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat as your eyes finally met his. They were colder than you'd ever seen before.

Usually, when you acted out, he found a bit of humor in it. Teasing you about being nothing but a brat but always letting you know he wasn't going to put up with it. He always went easy on you and honestly, you were a good girl. You almost never broke the rules and when you did, it was something trivial.

You were never one to get in trouble on purpose, at least not with him.

"I'm sorry I ignored your call." You tried to say in the least shaky voice you could manage.

He hummed, acknowledging your words but not accepting your apology. Those dagger like green eyes burned through your body, directly into your soul as his thumb twisted his gold ring on his pointer finger.

"Anythin' else y'need to tell me?" He asked as he raised from his chair. His large chest mere centimeters away from your face as you stood your ground, literally.

"No?" Your eyebrows scrunched as you peered up to him. Utterly confused on why he was so pissed at you.

The sharp stone like features of his face didn't help settle the racing thoughts in your mind. That cold chill that ran down your spine as his lips pressed into a hard line. The back of his hand as it skimmed across the highs of your cheek bone was the only feeling of warmth in the otherwise frigid room.

"Know why I got y'this?" His finger ran across the pink leather of your choker collar, across the gold "H" that was embedded in the middle.

Your big doe-eyes flashed up to him. You didn't sway an inch as his fingers laced through the ring that dangled at the bottom of your choker. His grip was firm around the cool metal. His hold kept in place as he stared down at you.

"Because I'm yours." Your eyebrows furrowed together as you looked at him, not having a clue as to why he needed to remind you.

You gasped as he tugged you forward by your lead. Your feet barely stayed in their spot on the ground as your hands grasped around his arms for balance.

"And do you think I like what's mine flirting in the elevator with my employees?" His words shocked you, stuttering, spits of partial words fell from your mouth as you gaped up at him. "Think I didn't see?"

"Harry, I wasn't flirting with him." You tried to explain away the situation. It was simple, a misunderstanding. "He helped me when I-"

"Did I say y'could use my name?" He practically growled through clenched teeth. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. Boy, were you in trouble.

"No, daddy." Your voice was soft, eyes all dewy as you stared up at him. A show, really, you loved when he got like this. That familiar ache already growing in your core as he dropped the lead on your collar. You quickly stood back up in your place, hands by your side as he stalked around you.

A hunter watching his prey.

"What's y'word?" He asked as he circled back in front of you. His suit jacket was abandoned over the back of the chair. Ringed finger hands loosening his tie around his neck.

"Peony." Your tongue wet your lips as he rolled up his sleeves in front of you. The crisp white linen of his shirt sleeves being rolled up was only a slight distraction from the nod of his head.

"And your hard no's?"

He wasn't fucking around. You considered it for a second, all the things you two had previously taken off the table.

"Still the same." You told him, knowing that this meant he was really going to push you tonight.

He studied you for a second longer. His head dipping down to catch your line of vision, eyebrows raised as if he was mentally asking you the same question again.

"Good." He said when you gave a nod of your head. "Strip."

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself. Your hands shook by your side as you clenched and unclenched your fist, once, twice, three times. Just enough to get you in your head space.

The skin on your arms raised in goosebumps as the warm fur lined jacket slid off your shoulders and onto the floor. A pile of useless fabric pulled into a puddle at your feet. Your slip of a dress followed directly after it.

A scoff of a laugh came from him, a shake of his head as he turned away from you. Long, silent, steps over to a much-needed drink from the bar cart in his office. Your eyes lowered to the floor, watching the pacing of his shoes. Ears zeroed into the sound of liquid pouring, a deep gulp, and then more pouring. That lump in your throat grew with every slap of his heel back in front of you.

Of course you had to pick today to be defiant.

"It's like y'wanna be in trouble, baby." He hummed and you swore if you looked at him right now he'd be wearing that smug little smirk.

"Pretty." He mumbled, his fingers dancing across the lacy top of the underwear you'd slipped on when you got home. "Too bad yeh not 'posed to be wearin' 'em."

"Off." He snapped his fingers in front of your heated face. At least he wasn't ripping this pair.

The stringy lace slid down your silky smooth legs. Each high heeled foot stepping out of the leg holes one at a time. Shaky hands handing over the garment you put on in a moment of anger.

Your eyes refused to meet his as he slid the panties into his back pocket. Your lips rolled into your mouth as he stared at you. The heat in your body raised with each passing second as he finished his drink.

God, you'd never been in this much trouble.

"Y'know I was gonna take it a little easy on yeh." His words and the sound of the glass being sat down snapped you out of your fixed trance on the floor. His shiny black shoes disappeared from your line of sight as he circled around you. "Figured my baby girl jus' got protective over her daddy."

His hand ran down your cheek from behind you. Your head instinctively nuzzled into the few fingers that trailed from your jawline to your lips. Chaste kisses pressed to his fingertips.

"But now, I see you need a good lesson on who makes the rules." You gasped when his hand clamped around the front of your neck, your head snapped back roughly against his shoulder. His fingers digging into the side of your neck made you whimpered, a low stirring in your stomach.

His hand released you only long enough to loosen his tie. The fabric you once gifted him for his birthday dug into the skin of your forearms and wrists behind your back. The restraint, a little tighter than usual, not enough to hurt but enough to let you know this wasn't some usual punishment.

"Bend." He said with a tight grip on the tie that held your arms in an uncomfortable position behind you. Your body maneuvered by him until your hips hit the edge of his desk. You gasped as your bare chest was pushed against the cold wood. Your nipples peaked from the sudden ice like material that you now laid halfway over. His hand finally left the intricate knots holding your arms back when your cheek rested on the table top.

"Looks like y'know how to listen when it comes to this." You could imagine his eyes rolling as he stood behind you. His hand ran down your ass, to the plug he'd placed there this morning. A quick tug on the pink silicone drew a whimper from you, your legs shifting back and forth in their spot.

Harry had to hold back a groan as he watched your hips sway. His hand gripped his twitching cock that throbbed in his pants at the sight of your pretty wet pussy already soaking for him. A smirk spread across his lips, his hand gripping the flesh of your round ass again.

His perfect little baby girl was such a whore for him.

Fuck, you were perfect.

"Thinkin' three fo' 'ry rule yeh broke today." His accent somehow thickened the more turned on he got. That heat burned in your stomach that turned in anticipation and a bit of nerves.

"Y-yes, daddy." Your voice betrayed you with shaky cracks.

The room quickly quieted again after his hum of approval. His hand left your ass, left you completely. Silence had you straining your ears for any hint of a sound when you heard it.

That familiar clink of a sound.

You buried your head into the smooth surface of the table, lips pressed against the wood to hide the moan that wanted to slip past your lips. Your core clenched around nothing but air, not sure how this was anywhere close to a punishment when you constantly had to beg him to be this rough with you.

You gasped as the cool leather of his belt ran down the strain muscles of your back. Tauntingly slow as it passed over the fabric of the tie, dancing across your fingers.

"What're in trouble fo'?" He asked from behind you, your lips that had been tightly clamped between your teeth unrolled, just enough to talk.

"Not answering your call, wearing underwear, using your name, and-" you sighed, "Touching another guy." You finally spit out, not wanting to add anymore lashings to your ever growing amount.

"Hm, think'll add three more fo' that one." His voice was hard and cold through the air around you. "Better hear yeh count, sweetheart."

He gave no warning other than that. The sound of the leather slicing through the thickened air in the office was your only clue of what was coming. The sharp snap of the hide hitting the soft flesh of your ass rang through your ears before you felt the sting.

"One." You spoke into the wood. Your nose flat against the desk, hands tightening around your restraint as the shockwaves of a dull pain ran down your spine, directly to your steadily wettening folds.

Two, three, four, more and the spark of a pleasure still burned, lingered down into a blazing river of red marks across your ass cheeks to your pulsating pussy.

"T-t-ten." Your words choked and contracted in your throat when the belt smacked across your ass, five more left and you were determined to make it through. The grunts and groans that rolled from deep in his chest as the leather dug into your flesh again and again. Whimpering sobs, face flushed with tears and mascara as he went harder on you than ever before.

And that fucking plug you decided to keep in.

You were teetering on the brink of your headspace when the final smack came. Your breast smashed against the now warmed surface with the force. You cried, pushed forward into that floating sensation of the deep part of your mind as you were lifted by your restraints. Body maneuvered until you kneeled before him, heels haphazardly kicked off in the motion downwards to the ground.

The searing skin of your ass cooled against the marble floor when your shaky legs gave out to the weight on them. You sighed from the little bit of relief you got, stuffy nose from crying so much, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs. You were too wrapped up in yourself to hear the clank of the belt hitting the floor.

Your foggy mind lifted out of the deep when you felt his hand around the back of your neck, his cold features barely broke through your vision that was clouded with tears.

"What do y'say, baby?" His hand tightened in the hairs at the back of your head. A hard jerk backwards had you gasping in surprise.

You were far from being done with your punishment.

"Thank you, daddy." Your voice cracked from the amount of tears you were holding back. The words you'd spoken did nothing to change his unimpressed facial features, his tongue slid across his front teeth as he studied your mess of mascara and eyeliner.

He stood up abruptly, his hand didn't leave the back of your neck, sufficiently holding you up from your ass resting on the cool tile.

"Yeh know, darlin', daddy doesn't punish yeh as much as he should. That's on me more than yeh. Should've put yeh in y'place more often, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened up to him. Whatever shred Harry always kept of himself while he was in this role was abandoned. No, now, he was fully in his dominant role. The waves of demand rolled through every part of him. His voice, his demeanor, his words.

"That's okay though, baby, gonna learn who yeh belong to. Isn't that right?" He practically cooed at you. A mock tone that made your face heat as blood rushed to your face.

"Yes, daddy." Your chest seemed to heave with anticipation.

"Open." He said as his hand clamped your mouth open for you. Your obedient tongue sticking out for him before you even had a chance to think twice about it.

Harry hummed as he stared down at you. The hand that was around your jaw slipped into your open mouth. His finger fucked into your open and waiting throating. Your legs tightened together as his smirk grew wider at your movement.

Sure, you weren’t supposed to move but God, you always wanted it so bad he couldn't help the turning of his lips.

He lowered himself to your level. No words were said as he loosened your restraints. The fabric that held your arms back finally, finally, was gone. Your body slacked forward as Harry backed away from you. His towering form loomed over you as your hands fell forward to hold yourself up.

The strain on your muscles in the back seemed to lift only momentarily before he guided you upwards by your upper arm. Your back on the now warmed surface of the desk, your head hanging off the side, your freed hands clutched beside you as your anticipation for what was coming grew.

"Gonna show me how sorry yeh are, darlin'." His throbbing cock was finally released from its confinement. The hard, pulsating, tip was red and aching for relief. Only millimeters from your upside-down vision.

Your legs spread wider at the sight of him. Your toes pointed against the smooth oak, your arousal felt like it could have been running in a river down your legs as you licked your lips. Your mouth opened without any demand from him as he stroked his cock in front of you.

"Good girl." He groaned, his hand guided himself into your mouth.

You always had a hard time taking him. He was just so big, so thick. Your tongue pressed against his tip as he slowly rocked into you. His hands grasped onto your breast as his cock slid further and further down your throat.

You moaned around his member that stretched open the sides of your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat, breathe through your nose.

"Relax yeh throat." He grunted as your throat constructed around him again. The irritated tone in his voice only made your slick folds drip with your arousal.

"I said to relax." He said once your gag reflex halted his movement for a third time. A harsh slap of his hand landed on your open and waiting cunt. You would have yipped at the feeling if you could have. He ceased your moment of being off guard to finally push himself fully inside.

You moaned the best you could as your throat finally relaxed. His balls rested against your nose, the crotch of his pants and zipper rubbed against your face but you didn't care. He felt so good in your mouth.

You heard him let out a moan as you felt your nipples harden. His fingers lazily rubbed at your swollen clit as he slipped down your mouth.

"Why can't yeh be a good girl like this all the time for me, baby?" He asked as his hand held the back of your neck. His hips picking up to a pace that was almost too much for you. "So much fuckin' better for me when yeh jus' a hole for me to fuck."

He pulled out of you suddenly. A string of your spit connected from his red tip to your mouth before he bent down to your level. The look behind his eyes was intoxicating. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

"Gonna have to keep you tied up to my desk, aren't I? Only time yeh good for me if when yeh have a cock stuffed in you."

"I'll be good." You said as he stood back up. His hands gripped your thighs to turn your body around like a rag doll, your ass in the air as your face laid on the desk, again.

"Be good, huh?" He teased his tip against your opening, a deep groan left him from just how fucking wet you were. "Yeh call throwin' yehself at my employees bein' good?"

"I didn't." You pouted, your bottom lip stuck out even though he couldn't see it. His cock parting the folds of your pussy, the thick tip against your sensitive clit had your hips shifting.

You wanted him to stop being mad at you and just fuck you already.

"If I wanted someone else to touch yeh I would have told them to." He started to slip into you, the overwhelming sense of him starting to stretch you already filled you. Blood rushed to your lightheaded head as you restrained yourself from pushing backwards onto him.

"Such a tight cunt." He grunted as the thought from your earlier run in fell from his mind. Your velvet caves pulled him, his anger melted away as you clenched around him.

A hard thrust forward had him directly on your sweet spot, your eyes rolled back in your head as you held on tightly to the front of the desk.

He wasn't messing around and he wasn't holding back.

You could feel his hip bones smacking against the abused flesh of your ass. The sting sent an electric shock through your body as he wrecked you. You could feel him pounding all the way into your lower stomach as your jaw unhinged from a sea of moans.

"Think he could fuck yeh better, sweetheart?" Harry asked as he pulled on the plug in between your cheeks. His cock rammed into you as the silicone slipped out.

"No." You finally managed to get out an answer through your moans, your wrecked vocal cords cracked until he let up. You almost turned around but you knew better, the sound of his bottom draw opening gave away his next move.

You two needed to fuck at his office less. He had way too much sex shit laying around here.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the cold gel of his lube coated fingers slipping into your tighter hole. Your breath caught in your throat as he slid back inside of your pussy. Your eyebrows furrowed together from the overwhelming sense of pleasure that pulsed through your veins.

"Such a slut, know that?" He spoke as a second finger joined his first one, fucking you open enough to take him. "Lemme fuck yeh in ever hole in my office."

"Fuck." You moaned into the wood, your hands gripped around the front edge of the desk as he pulled himself out of you, a generous amount of lube slathered across your hole before he put some on himself.

He took a second just admiring your wrecked state. Your pussy opened wide for him, able to be fucked so easily now that he'd destroyed it. Your ass shined red with lash marks, your hair a complete mess.

He had to stop himself from shooting a load into his own hand. His thoughts getting the best of him as he stroked himself from behind you. His tip pressed into you slowly as he waited for your muscles to relax.

You felt like you could have bit your bottom lip off from how tightly it was tucked under your teeth. Your nails dug into the desk as he pushed further into you, his head finally getting past your tight ring. His hips laid flat against your ass, his hands pulled back each cheek to get a good look at himself stretching you out.

"Gonna ruin you for anyone else. Y'understand?" He mumbled into your ear as he pulled up to his chest by the front of your neck.

"Yes, daddy." You squeaked out as he finally moved his hips. His head rested against your shoulder as you let out a sound you never wanted to admit to making. His cock hit all the right places, the stretch wasn't painful but you were so tight there you could feel every one of his veins pushing against your walls.

You felt so full of him it was almost overwhelming. You could feel every throbbing jump of his cock as he pumped in and out of you. His grunts as his teeth dug into your shoulder, his fingers from his free hand swirled around your clit while his other one squeezed the sides of your neck.

Your arousal slicked all the way down to your shaky knees as your body bounced against his cock. You panted out moans as your body burned red hot. Your orgasm was just on the horizon, so close you could hardly keep your eyes open.

"Gonna cum with daddy's cock in yeh ass?" He asked even though you had no idea how he managed to put together words in this moment. Your own mind wasn't able to let you do anything more than nod.

"Cum for me then, pet." His finger pressed down harder on your clit, cock shoved deeper inside of you.

Your vision blacked around the edges, body shook, your high washed over your head all the way down to your toes. The sound of your moans carried through the office, down the halls of the almost emptied building. Your mind barely had time to put together the fact he'd pulled out of you.

Until he slammed back into your cunt.

A warmth filled you as you whimpered, your body slacked in his arms as his cum dripped out around himself.

"I gotcha." He mumbled as he moved you both into his office chair. Your makeup smudged face pressed into his chest as you came down from your high. His hand ran across your back in soothing circles.

"Baby, yeh did so good." He said into your hair, his lips pressed in light kisses against your scalp. "Such a good girl. Made me feel so good, baby."

"Gonna take yeh home and get yeh a bath, hm?" He asked when your body felt less limp. You hummed your agreement, head still in that floating space for a second.

"Harry, you know I didn't flirt with him, right?" You asked after a moment. Your fingers danced across his bicep absentmindedly.

"Yeah, jus' like yeh know I didn't sleep with my secretary." He let out a chuckle when you raised your head to pout at him. "Gave me a good reason to fuck yeh like that though."

"Shut up." You muttered to him. Your eyes rolled as he gave you a stern look.

"Pup, I jus' fucked yeh into next week, do not start with me again."

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x you #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Smut #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Mine #One Shot

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Insatiable

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

WARNINGS : THERES JUST WAY TOO MUCH FILTH HERE !!!!!!!!

A huge thank you for the banner to @helenazbmrskai

Chapter 6

“You sure you don’t want to take that?” Yugyeom gave me a look as i rejected the call for the umpteenth time.

“Oh..uh... Yeah.” I shrugged it off feeling exhausted.

The whole point of going out with Yugyeom was to take a break from one Jeon Jungkook but that was impossible..... with said vampire calling me every five minutes.

“So...anyways.... Mingyu was way out of line and I really wanted to apologize on behalf of the idiot. Although your bodyguard seems to have put the fear of God into him....Kid was trembling when he came home last night. “ Yugyeom chuckled.

I smiled weakly.

“Yeah...he tends to do that.” I said hoarsely.

Jungkook was the one topic I was hoping to avoid. Because having sex with him hadn’t scratched the itch the way I had thought it would.... It had merely amped my lust by a few hundred thousand times and I was ill equipped to handle it. I didn’t know what to do with myself around him and I was so fucking terrified I was going to do something awful;.

Like jump him in front of everyone.

So I’d spent the whole day trying to be aloof but it hadn’t worked very well.

Jungkook stuck close me , tossing lingering glances that made my skin heat up, , hands brushing mine way too often, eyes trained on me without any restraint

And don’t even get me started on the touching.

Hand brushing my waist when we turned a corner , fingers brushing my hair off my face when I had my hands full with the kids, an arm wrapped around my shoulder when Minhyuk had asked me out again.

And I’m not saying i didn’t love it because it felt like Christmas and my birthday had come together but.... but... I had a job to do. With kids.

It wasn’t the place to be fantasizing about how good your bodyguard’s cock had felt inside you.

“Jungkook right? Jeon Jungkook ....” Yugyeom said thoughtfully.

“Uh ...yeah...”

“Tall dude? Black hair? Looks way too intimidating and dresses like he’s just stepped off a runway?” Yugyeom prompted and I blinked.

“You know him?” I asked surprised.

Yugyeom shook his head.

“No, but I think he’s over by the bar and he’s looking at me like he wants to tear out my jugular.” He said casually.

My gaze snapped to the bar behind us and I felt my eyes widen in disbelief.

Jungkook stood leaning against the bar, eyes narrowed dangerously and I groaned.

So much for avoiding him.

“He looks pissed.” Yugyeom commented.

“I kinda ditched him.” I muttered.

“did you tell him , I’m a friend?”

“Don’t think it would have made much difference. Gimme a minute?” I whispered, and Yugyeom laughed, waving me off.

I stood up slowly , bracing myself for the interrogation I knew was coming, before turning around and walking over to him.

Jungkook’s eyes stayed trained on me as I made my way over and I felt my throat go dry at the sight of him. He hadn’t dressed for the place today, a black turtleneck and a black jacket and black slacks with a silver belt buckle. Hair tousled all over his forehead as he stared, unsmiling.

“Is this whole angel of death thing really necessary?” I whispered as soon as I reached him.” I’m sorry. I just needed to ...” stay away from you for a bit and last night was so amazing and i can’t stop thinking about it.

“ You couldn’t take a few minutes to tell me where you were going?” He asked casually and I swallowed.

“Jungkook, Yugyeom’s ...a good friend.” I muttered.

“How about you let me make that call?” He said coldly, eyes narrowed in annoyance and I felt chilled.

“I’m sorry... To be honest, I missed you. I’ve gotten used to you being around and I was going to cut the night short. I promise.”

He scoffed.

‘Really? I don’t believe you. For someone who spent the better part of a month begging for my cock, the novelty seems to have worn off pretty fast for you.” He said casually.

My head snapped up , the words stunning me into silence.

I could only gape at him.

He gave me another lazy once over.

“And it made me wonder.....did I not fuck her good enough?”

Oh, Christ.

I felt my face turn a flame red , my fingers going clammy.

“Jungkook, stop.” I whispered , glancing back at Yugyeom quickly. He was fiddling with his phone,

“What’s wrong? You need to head back? YOur boyfriend’s gonna be upset?”

I frowned.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I muttered.

Jungkook grinned.

“Right...he’s just the clown you wanted to suck off when you were younger...”

“God, what’s gotten into you?” I groaned.

Jungkook shrugged.

“I don’t like being ignored. It’s a character flaw of mine.”

I gaped at him.

“I am not ignoring you.... I... I was out with a friend....It’s been less than an hour since I saw you... I literally spent the whole day with you.” I said shrilly.

“Really? Then why’d you not pick up when I called....?” He waved his phone and I flushed, looking away.

“Because I wanted an hour with an old friend....Without anyone interrupting.” I lied.

Because you’re driving me in sane and I need an hour without you around so I can get my friggin body under control before I get arrested for public indecency.

He clenched his jaw.

“I see. “ He reached for a glass of wine on the countertop in front of him and turned around. “ Here” He held it out for me.

I took the drink, suspicious.

“Go on , then.... I won’t interrupt...” He shrugged.

I nodded, relieved.

Turning around I made to move away.

“Thought you’d be interested in a little gift I got you.... but if you’d rather spend time with the clown... I get that.”

His voice was low and deep, a drawl that made the hair on my skin stand on end.

I turned back to him, eyes narrowed.

“What gift?” I demanded.

He shrugged.

“Nevermind.”

I felt my hackles rise.

“Jungkook...”

“Are you sure.. what if that clown misunderstands... ...” he pointed a finger at my table and I glared at him.

“Stop calling him that , God..his name is yugyeom. “ I snapped.

Jungkook’s smile was positively feral.

“Don’t know .Don’t care. So, you want it? You sure ?” He asked casually.

i nodded, holding my hand out.

“Gimme .” I said quickly.

He shook his head.

“Can’t give it to your here, angel.”

I frowned , drawing my hand back.

“There’s a ladies room on the fifteenth floor. It’s being renovated ... no one goes there... Meet me there in five?”

I stared at him.

“There’s a firework show in half an hour. I don’t wanna miss it.” I protested.

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“You wanna watch the fireworks?”

I nodded. “ Yugyeom booked it for me. I wanna see it.”

“Alright.. I’ll get you back in time for the fireworks.” He nodded, face frustratingly neutral.

“Okay..then .. and I’ll meet you there.”

“Can’t wait ...” He murmured softly.

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

The restroom on the fifteenth floor was deserted like he said and looked less like the ladies room and more like a luxurious parlor. The stalls were further in and the waiting space had beautifully upholstered couches and armchairs. Ornate mirrors hung on all the walls and I found Jungkook seated on one the couches, legs spread wide as he casually browsed his phone.

I stepped in carefully , shutting the door behind me.

Jungkook looked up at me, smiling.

“Lock the door.” He said casually and I hesitated.

“Jungkook, we shouldn’t be-”

“If you need to be at the firework show , you need to stop wasting time baby...” He said firmly.

I locked the door quickly, making sure it couldn’t be opened.

I turned back around and jumped when I ran right into Jungkook, who had crept up on me.

He smiled at me.

“Hi.” He said gently.

I felt myself melt .

“Hi.” I laughed.

“Don’t like it when you ignore me.” He muttered. bending low and nipping my jaw.

I grabbed his shoulders, knees weak.

“Uh... is this the gift...?” I gasped when he bit down hard, teeth sharp on the skin and he licked the little abrasion, wet and warm.

“Not really but I’ll get to it. Before that, “ He pulled away, “ I just realized I never got to eat you out yesterday.”

The gears in my head stopped spinning.

I could only stare at him, stunned/

“But, I like to be thorough and we don’t have that kind of time right now. So I’m just gonna ask you this.....Do You regret last night?”

I blinked.

What even...? I couldn’t keep track of his thought process.

“No.. no of course not...” I said harshly.

“You wanna keep doing this?” He tilted his head, eyes boring into mine.

Only for the rest of my life.

“Yes!!” I said angrily and he chuckled.

“Okay...but angel, I don’t like it when you run around doing as you please without letting me know what you’re up to. What you did today...” He shook his head. “ That doesn’t work for me.”

I flushed.

“I said I’m sorry.” I muttered.

“But are you?” He said thoughtfully.

“what..What does that mean...?”

“Apologies don’t mean shit if you don’t back them up with actions. I’m just saying... you ready to back up your words by doing as I say?” his eyes flashed red.

I hesitated.

“What do you want me to do. ?”

“Just don’t ignore me.” He shrugged.

“Okay...” i agreed at once.

“ You can do that?” He asked with a frown.

“Uh...sure. “

He hummed.

“I’m not so sure... I think you need a little help with that.”

“Jungkook , what are you even -”

“Go lie down on the couch for me. “

I stared at him.

“Hurry up baby, your boyfriend’s waiting upstairs remember? .” He grinned.

“Please stop calling him that...” I whined, moving to the wide couch in the corner and lying down after toeing off my shoes.

. Jungkook grabbed an armchair, dragging it close to the couch. He sat down , close enough to touch and I swallowed.

Jungkook shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on the arm of the couch , near my feet.

He spread his legs and my eyes nearly popped out of my head when he began unbuckling his belt, dragging the leather out through the hoops before fiddling with the buttons on his fly.

“I was thinking of last night. Was your first time right angel?” He asked casually and I stared as I watched his hands. Long nimble fingers gripping the zipper of his slacks and yanking the metal down , revealing black briefs.

“Uh... I.. yes?” I felt my thighs clench in arousal, toes curling into the fabric of the couch.

“ I’ve been around enough women to know that I’m bigger than average. “ He sank his fingers into his briefs, hands curling around the hardened length of his arousal and I flushed when he pulled his cock out, hard and thick.

“Jungkook!” I whimpered, moving to scramble to my feet but he pressed a hand to my shoulder, pushing me back down.

“ Stay there angel.... Let me finish” He said sternly.

I pouted, not entirely sure if I liked this Jungkook. Where was the sweet man who wanted to let me call the shots?

“ This is what I’m like. “ Jungkook said , grinning as though he could read my mind “ Just because I indulged you last night, doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you walk all over me ....Running off without telling me where you went? That’s not gonna happen again angel and I’m gonna make sure of it. ” He reached out and gently gripped my chin before squeezing down enough to make me wince.

I glared at him before my eyes slipped back to his cock and my mouth watered. It looked so good, thick and hard and he was close enough for me to see the precum beading up at the slit. I wondered what it would taste like. How it would feel,

“Can I suck you off?” I asked softly, batting my lashes.

He gave me an amused look.

“No. You can’t. Anyways... Like I was saying , I know you said you were a virgin but then, you also took my fat cock like you’d been doing it all your life. “ He frowned.

Blood rushed to my face in embarrassment.

“That’s... you...” I spluttered.

“And that’s when I realized... Just because you’re a virgin, doesn’t mean you haven’t fucked yourself. “ He grinned devilishly.

I buried my face in my hands.

“Oh god...” I choked.

“Guess what I found in your room...”

My eyes snapped up to him and he was rummaging in his jacket pocket.

I shrieked when I saw a very familiar vibrator , a pale mauve in color. It wasn’t very long but it was really thick, only a hairsbreadth smaller than Jungkook.

I glared at him.

“You went through my things!!” i yelled affronted.

He rolled his eyes.

“Hardly. It was literally on your bed when I went looking for you in the evening because I couldn’t fucking find you.. “ He snapped.

I shut my mouth.

“Okay...fine ..yeah I use sex toys. Big deal.” I muttered.

He shook his head.

“No it isn’t. Which is why I want you to show me. “ He leaned back, casually wrapping a hand around his cock. I stared at him as he casually began stroking the hard length of his dick, after licking his palms.

Did he really think I was too shy to put on a show?

Boy was he in for a surprise.

Smiling evilly, I pulled my dress up quickly, hooking my thumbs into my panties and yanking them down quickly, kicking them off.

I gave him a smile.

“Can I turn around? You’ll have a better view.” I smirked.

His eyebrows shot up.

“Go ahead, princess. Better impress me.”

I rolled my eyes at that.

Sitting up , I sat back down against the cushioned arm rest, keeping my eyes trained on his and I bent my knees and spread my legs, utterly shameless because well... because I had always liked the idea of being watched.

Jungkook wasn’t shy by any standards and his gaze flitted right between my legs without any hesitation.

“Pretty.” He murmured gently and I fought the rush of embarrassment. I’d started this and I was going to see through it.

“What am I supposed to get turned on by?” I asked innocently running my fore and middle finger up andn down my slit gently. I was really fucking wet on the inside but he couldn’t know that.

And just for good measure, I let my gaze drop to his cock and back up, looking bored.

His eyes narrowed.

“How about the way I filled your sloppy little cunt last night? Remember that? Remember how fucking wet you got, just from me licking your nipples....?” He smiled.

I felt my throat go dry and my pussy clenched, damp wetness seeping out and coating my hand and my fingers slipped right in before I could do anything about it.

Jungkook laughed, eyes trained where my fingers had disappeared.

He kept his hands on his cock and leaned in closer, kissing the edge of my earlobe.

“Thought so. “ He whispered right into my ears, :” My horny little slut. Bet you walk around all day with that cunt dripping wet and ready. Bet I could fuck into you with ease, anytime I want...just flip that skirt up, push your panties aside and drive my cock into you, yeah? “ He licked a stripe up my cheeks and I shuddered, pumping my fingers into my pussy faster, “ Virgin..??? what a fucking joke... You are the farthest thing from a virgin my sweet little whore...”

“Jungkook...” I whimpered and he gripped my wrists, stilling my fingers and pulling them out. He pulled my hand closer, right up to his mouth and I groaned when he wrapped his lips around the wet and messy digits, licking up all the wetness there.

“Sweet and spicy , just like I thought...” He directed my fingers back down between my fingers...” Get more of that wetness for me baby...want you to jerk me off with that hot slick you have dripping between your thighs...”

:” On your knees.” He prompted and I sank down in front of him. “Jerk me off, baby...Make me feel good...” He whispered, spreading his legs and I wrapped shaky hands around his cock. I swallowed , gazing at him , licking my lips as I stroked his dick, faster. He took one of my hands and directed them down to his balls.

“Like this... This makes me feel good..”He whispered, showing me just how he liked to be touched .I nodded, following his lead and speeding up my movements, gripping a little tighter, using my thumb to trace circles on the head, rubbing the wetness around his slit and the thick vein on the underside of his cock.

He groaned and shuddered a little. And then he leaned forward, gripping my chin.

“ I want you to get on my lap now.... and then I’m gonna cum inside you “

I whimpered, already scrambling to my feet but before I could get on him, he gripped my waists.

“ Let me finish, angel.I’m gonna fill you up with my cum and then I’m gonna stick this , “ He held the vibrator up, “ inside you . If you can keep your slutty little pussy tight enough for me, keep this thing and my cum inside you till tonight...maybe you’ll get your gift. “

I stared at him, my jaw coming unhinged.

What.

WHAT.

He pulled me closer, maneuvering me onto his lap and I swallowed.

“I’m not... I can’t..” I whispered.

“Sure you can.. I believe you. But if you don’t want to.” His gaze softened. “ We can forget all about it.”

I bit my lips, staring into his gorgeous face and and really, it was a no brainer. I wasn’t going to say no to Jeon Jungkook. It was just not going to happen.

I spread my thighs and he grabbed his cock, tracing the tip on my slit.

“Ready?”

I nodded, sinking down on the hard length easily. My breath caught , fingers curling into his shoulders as I swallowed the whimper that threatened. God he was so fucking big inside me. So hard and real and good and I wanted to sit on his cock forever. Wanted to stay locked in a room with him forever, just fucking and teasing and fucking again and only stopping to shower or eat.

“Don’t cum.” He said gently.” You don’t get to cum till I tell you to. You understand baby?”

I whimpered as he fucked into me just once or twice. Warm wetness flooded my insides and I clutched his shoulders, burying my face there as he groaned, fucking me full of his release.

He grabbed the vibrator from the couch and I swallowed when he brought it down to my entrance.

“Ready baby? Gonna pull my cock out and put this in.....Need to you clench down on it and keep my cum in... Don’t make a mess alright?” He kissed my cheeks sweetly, the affectionate gesture a complete contrast to his filthy words.

I did make a mess...

A little bit and the vibrator was thick enough to stay lodged in, and I felt my eyes roll back in my head as he pushed it in fully.

“You okay?” He whispered, kissing me softly before running his palms up and down my thighs. “Gonna help you put your panties on, baby. okay? keep your pussy clenched for me. ”

I nodded weakly, trying to keep my muscles clamped around the hard length of the toy inside me as he helped slip my bikini briefs back up my thighs.

“You okay?”

I nodded.

“Good. Let’s go see those fireworks, shall we?” He grinned devilishly.

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

Jungkook stood leaning against the wall of the rooftop restaurant , arms crossed as he watched her, a smile playing around his lips as he watched her squirm, shifting her weight from on thigh to the other as she tried to sit on the hard backed chair, her eyes glassy and unfocused as the Kim vampire talked to her.

Dude didn’t seem to realize that she was so out of it she probably didn’t understand a word he was saying.

He stayed in the shadows because the front of his thighs was stained with cum, a little bit of white streaks, stark against the black of his slacks. She had let a little of it spill out of her when he’d pulled out...which was a little sloppy of her and usually, Jungkook would punish something like that in a partner but...well because it was the first time he would just let it pass. Besides, he was sure she would improve with time.

He trained his eyes back to her hips and his lips quirked when gripped she armrest, shivering a bit.

This felt better, he thought.

Watching her with other men was easier when he knew that he was the one on her mind. Knew that all she could think about was keeping his cum inside her, the hardness of the toy a reminder that he was the one she was trying to please and impress.

He slipped a hand inside his pocket, playing with the tiny little remote .

Should he?

Would it be too much?

He smirked.

Only one way to find out.

He thumbed the small knob at the top of the remote, eyes trained on her .

The moment he flipped it on , at the smallest setting possible, she went completely still.

And he wondered how it felt, the electric vibrations of the toy against her insides...he wished he could see it...she her pussy spread out for him, pink and wet and swollen and wrecked.... God, the things he wanted to do to her.

It annoyed him a bit, how shamelessly she’s spread her legs on that couch, let him see the pink of her cunt without an ounce of shame .....annoyed him because he wasn’t sure if it was for him or because it was what she was like....

Annoyed him because if it wasn’t for just him.... would she do it for other too?

He couldn’t stomach the idea of it.

That pretty pink pussy, so wet and wanting...he wanted it all for himself . He wanted her legs spread out on his bed, her arms tied to the fucking bedposts so he could show her just how dangerous he could be when he wanted to....

That just because he’d let her take the lead didn’t mean he would settle for anything less than her complete submission.

Smiling, he turned the vibrations up a little bit, smirking as he watched her.

Sera gripped the armrest gently, raising her hips off the chair a bit and turning around slowly to stare right at him.

He grinned wide, relishing the shocked desperation on her face. He pushed away from the wall, sauntering over to her slowly till he was right behind her.

“Doing okay? baby?” He whispered gently for her ears only.

“Don’t do this to me.” She said softly, nails digging indents into her part as she clenched her fists , resting her hands on her knees.

He hummed.

Poor baby, he thought fondly. . When this night was over he would shower her with kisses. Giver all the affection. Cuddle the fuck out of her, brush her hair back and make her feel so, so , good.

But the night was far from over.

He glanced at her companion.

Yugyeom gave him a smile and nod, went back to talking about art or something.

Sera had her eyes fixed straight ahead, glassy and unfocused.

He leaned over to whisper into her ear.

“Don’t forget...You cannot cum.”

And then he sauntered back over to his place near the wall, before slipping his fingers into his jacket and turning up the tempo for her.

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

“Was fun catching up, Sera... I’ll text you, yeah?” Yugyeom gave me a light hug and I stared at him, slightly teary eyes and about a second away from collapsing into a heap on the floor.

I was sore and tired and a little out of my mind. The fireworks had lasted fifteen minutes.

It had felt like a year.

And I hadn’t even watched them because I had kept my eyes screwed shut, concentrating only on not cumming, because if I did, not only would I literally drip all over the chair , but I would likely scream loud enough to wake the dead.

Jungkook had turned the toy off when the show ended but it had done nothing for me...in fact it felt worse because the lack of stimulation was even worse than the steady thrum of the toy against my walls.

Jungkook looked entirely unaffected as he watched me bid good bye to Yugyeom and it was only when he had driven away that he lightly took my arm.

“You okay baby?” He gave a me a slow smile and I glared at him through wet lashes.

“I won’t go anywhere without you again. I promise. Please just get this out of me.”

He cooed, pulling me into a hug.

“Alright angel. I believe you. Come on...”

He led me to the large black Palisade , grabbing the keys from the valet.

“Get in the back seat.” He prompted.

I nodded, too out of it to even question it. I climbed into the seats and sat down, whimpering when the toy moved inside me, shifting in deeper. My clothes were damp , almost soaking wet and my thighs trembled.

He glanced at me.

“Can you hold on till we get home?” He asked gently.

I stared at him, unseeing. Tears filled my eyes and spilled over.

“Please.” Was all I could get out.

“Fuck, okay baby. Hang on.”

Jungkook drove quickly, pulling out of the hotel premises and into the road. But instead of taking the left like he usually did, he took a U turn, picking a side road that led away from the city’s bustle .

I gripped the seats as he drove in further away from the crowded city light , only blinking when he took a right into secluded side road, empty except for us.

I stared in confusion as he parked the car , turned off all the lights in the car. I watched him climb out of the front seat, slamming his door shut before prying mine open.

“Lay back for me baby. Up against the door.” He said gently. And then when I didn’t move he climbed, in all but lifting me up and settling me down till, I was leaning against the door, staring down at him.

He didn’t waste any time, spreading my legs, and pulling my panties off before pushing my knees up and apart.

“Gonna eat you out.” He growled and my eyes flew open, the first pang of lucidity hitting me.

“Wha-Wait...your...there’s...inside, there’s....” I couldn’t even say it.

“My cum? Yeah... i know my cum’s inside there...” Jungkook laughed, fingers gripping the base of the vibrating and twisting it just a little bit. “ i know angel, and now I’m gonna lick my cum out of your sopping wet pussy..”

Jungkook pulled the vibrator out of me and I sobbed at the gush of wetness that dripped out of me. But it didn’t spill, because he chased the wetness with his tongue, curling the hard length of it inside me, scooping up every last drop of the filthy mess inside me, taking it all into his hot, wet mouth .

He hummed a little before pressing a thumb to my clit, rubbing the nub till I began quivering already way too overstimulated to experience anything but a throbbing pain disguised as pleasure. I stared at him , vision swimming as he crawled to his knees on the back seat, head bowed because of the car’s ceiling and I watched him fumble with his belt, pulling out his cock and lining it up against my entrance.

He drove straight in, without any hesitation, leaning over me till his face was just a little away from mine, staring down at me, cheeks a little puffed. He fucked into me with a force that shook the car on its wheels, the large vehicle somehow shaking like a leaf from how hard he thrust into me. I felt like my body was on fire, breath getting punched out of me with every thrust of his cock inside me and I could only whimper , fingers curling and uncurling on the seat as I rode the high of being fucked into incoherency.

Jungkook grunted, hipped my waist hard used one hand to rub my clit harshly.

And then he bought his other hand up to slip two fingers into my mouth, prompting me to open my mouth. The digits slipped in , rubbing the flat of my tongue before pulling out.

I stared wordlessly, as his fingers slipped down to cup my jaw, squeezing till I opened my mouth wide. I stuck my tongue out instinctively and he groaned.

Jungkook gave me cheeky little wink, eyes flashing red before he opened his mouth, spitting the wet mess of his cum and my juices right onto my tongue just as he pulled back and drove into me, his cock going so deep I saw actual fireworks.

I went completely still, the sheer filthiness' of the act and the force of his thrust driving me straight over the edge , even as he groaned and kissed me full on the lips, tongue swooping in to swirl the mess on my tongue all over, his fingers gripping my hair as he fucked me harder, chasing his own pleasure now.

My body hummed, exhausted, drained, completely wrung out and wrecked.

I went limp as he gave one last thrust, spilling into me again.

He was panting against my neck as he came down from his high and I raised a shaky hand to gently stroke the back of his head as he shuddered against me.

When he pulled back to stare at me, brushing my damp hair off my face he had a smile on his face.

“Did you enjoy the fireworks baby?” He whispered.

It took me two whole minutes to even remember what he was talking about.

Author’s note :

Jungkook sure knows how to get her attention back on him doesn’t he?

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