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#THE THUNDER DROWNED THEM OUT
billymayslesbian · 17 days
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Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.
Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.
Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.
The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.
“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”
“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.
Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?
Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.
Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”
The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.
Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.
“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”
Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”
Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.
“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”
Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.
“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”
Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.
Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.
Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.
“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”
“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”
His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.
Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.
“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”
Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”
Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”
“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”
“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”
Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.
“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”
“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”
The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.
Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.
Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”
Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?
Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.
“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”
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leviathanspain · 6 months
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Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!
my body is a cage
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finnick odair x reader
synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..
a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao
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“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.
“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.
you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”
johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”
katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.
“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”
they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.
“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.
suddenly the island began to spin.
your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.
you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.
you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.
finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.
“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”
there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.
finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.
“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.
you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.
finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”
finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”
“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.
“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.
“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.
“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.
finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.
finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.
he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.
it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.
“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.
“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”
there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”
your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.
“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.
“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”
finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.
“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”
johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months
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James Potter x fem!reader
Summary: You want your boyfriend's attention again.
Genre: Hurt & comfort (angsty fr)
Warnings: James is an asshole in the beginning, relationship problems (happy ending!), mentions of fighting and jealousy, crying, sexual harassment/non-consensual kissing, swearing (a lot)
"Wait, James! I'm sorry," you shout but James doesn't listen as he harshly pulls his arm away from you when you try to hold onto the sleeve of his jumper. Salty tears brim your eyes as you mutter, "Please, Jamie. You have to understand."
You almost bump into him when he stops dead in his tracks. "Understand? What is there to understand?" he states in a whisper, his voice uncharacteristically calm for someone that's so very clearly furious. It scares you. Your chest feels tight as he turns around and when thunder crackles in the sky, you jump.
"He touched you," Pain taints his voice and your eyes soften, "Rosier had his dirty hands all over you and you didn't even try to stop him."
You shake your head and your hands move to hold his cheek but he turns his head away, "I didn't want him to touch me! I s-swear," you try to explain desperately, "I just, I just wanted you to see me and — " You start but James interrupts you,
"Y/n, how can you say I don't see you? I love you! You're the only thing I see."
You feel like you're slowly losing your mind, "Then why don't you show it anymore?" Thunder claps again and rain hits your skin like small knives. You don't dare make a move as you remain frozen under your boyfriend's harsh stare.
"I show you I love you plenty," he defends.
You feel exhausted and your words come out jumbled, "No, you don't. I almost never see you anymore and tonight you spent all evening with your friends. I-I wore this stupid dress for you," You show him your dress and he looks at you with round, frustrated, eyes, "And you couldn't even compliment me."
James runs a hand in his damp hair and tugs at his curls in frustration, "I tell you you're beautiful all the damn time." He insists and you shake your head furiously.
"You haven't complimented me in weeks!"
James doesn't move and you can almost see inside his mind. He's thinking hard. "I haven't?" he asks slowly, genuinely trying to understand and remember.
You turn from him a little, tears pricking at your eyes. You close them, trying to erase what had happened at the party earlier. The music, the dancing, Rosier's lips against your ear, his hand on your arm,
"I can make him jealous, you know."
You had jumped, the drink in your hand almost falling to the floor. Evan held your hand and smirked his infamous smirk. "What?" you asked, your voice small as it's drowned out by the music.
Evan pursed his lips and ran a hand in his hair. "Your boyfriend," he said with venom and glanced at James. James, who was across the room with his friends, laughing loudly with his arm swung around Sirius's shoulder. You had blushed, a familiar pit forming in your stomach. You grasped your dress as Evan continued, "I can help you make him jealous."
In a moment of weakness, you looked at him and asked, "How?"
And then his body was pressing yours against the wall. Stunned, you didn't have the time to process what was happening as Evan's hand swept up your side and he whispered, "Let me show you how gorgeous you look tonight, Y/n," his voice was smooth as honey but his teeth nipped at your neck.
You made a small gasp when his lips found the corner of your mouth and just as your hands touched his chest to push him away, he's yanked away by his collar. James looked furious as he punched Evan and the party came to a sudden halt.
"She wanted me, mate," Evan said through a busted lip and, judging by the guilty look on his face, James believed him. James hadn't said a word to you as he dropped Evan and stormed outside. You ran after him, desperate.
Your eyes open and a tear slides down your cheek as you answer James, "No. You haven't. Not in a while. You barely even make time in your busy schedule to make conversation with me. I-If you don't want me anymore, you can tell me and," your voice is trembling and you have trouble finishing your sentence, "and w-we can break up."
James's entire face drains of color hearing you and his eyes widen. His hands shake as they find your cheeks and he moves in closer.
He looks you over, his lip trembling. "I'm so sorry," his voice is a mere whisper as he continues to look at you. You can see his mind racing, his eyes moving quickly over you as he searches your skin. "Y/n, did he hurt you? Rosier — did he hurt you?"
James leans his forehead on yours when you shake your head no. "Shit, baby, I'm such an idiot," he sounds desperate as his hands sweep up your arms and he looks at your body. "You're so stunning, Y/n. So beautiful all the fucking time. I'm so fucking sorry, love. I don't want to break up with you, that's the last thing I would ever want. I can't lose you."
You're overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions as you whisper, "Then why have you been ignoring me? Am I not enough for you anymore?"
James shushes you as he pets your soaked hair and gently guides your head to look up at him. He moves hair away from your face. "Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. It's my fault. I have been so busy lately with school and Quidditch and – fuck – it never occurred to me that I was losing you. I took you for granted, love," he admits, caressing your cheek, "You're so sweet and kind to me I didn't even know something was wrong. I'm so sorry."
You don't want to forgive him and still, you subconsciously find yourself leaning into his touch. As much as you want to despise him for what he did, you love him more than you could ever hate him and James sees this. He holds your cheek and he strokes his calloused thumb against your skin. "You should be mad at me, love. I fucking deserve it," he says sadly.
"I just don't understand why you would think I wanted Rosier to kiss me," You admit, your voice small. James's heart tightens in his chest and tears brim in his eyes. He doesn't think you can hate him more than he hates himself at this moment.
"I don't know, Y/n," he admits, "I don't know what I was thinking but I- I should have listened to you," he whispers, looking down and you can tell he's replaying the moment Rosier crushed you against the wall over and over again in his head.
"Bloody hell, I'm a shit boyfriend. Some guy forces himself onto you and the first thing I do is blame you," he sounds angry with himself and you can tell even if you reassure him, he won't excuse himself so easily.
"It's okay," you try anyway but James quickly presses his finger to your lips.
"Shh, no. It isn't okay," he says, his eyes stern and he leans his forehead on yours. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness," his hand hovers over your form, afraid to touch you but silently pleading with his eyes for you to let him.
You nod and his fingers skim the satin of your dress. "I love you," James says. His hand touches your waist and then gently slides up your ribs. "I love you. I love you. I love you," he continues in a mantra as his lips press to your ear and you let out a sigh. You melt into his touch and his mantra changes, "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Shit, baby, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," You try and whisper again but this time his lips find yours to silence you. You're surprised but when James pulls away to make sure you're okay with him kissing you after everything, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase his lips. James's hands move up and hold your cheeks as he kisses you again.
The kiss is delicate and mixed with both anger and sadness. Your anger and his, his sadness and yours, as well as an abundance of soul crushing love. Jame's hand slides down to hold yours and he disconnects your lips. "How can I make it up to you?" he asks seriously, looking into your eyes.
"What?" your eyebrows crease.
James repeats his question without complaints, "How can I make this better? I want to show you how much I care."
You search his face and he looks determined. A smile tugs at your lips. "Oh, um," you think for a moment, "just don't do it again? Please don't forget me again." James's heart shatters again and he's convinced all he has left in his chest are sharp shards that will cut into him for the rest of his life.
"Never, baby, never," he promises as he presses a kiss to your forehead. "What else? What else, love?" James sounds desperate at this point.
You pull away and stare into his eyes. "Listen," you start and his stomach turns as sweat beads at his forehead, mixing with the raindrops. His mind starts to spin as he thinks of what you could say.
I think this isn't working. I can't look past this. I don't love you anymore, not after what you did.
"I'm not looking to punish you for what happened, I just want to move forward," you pause and James hangs on your every word. "I love you and I can tell you're really sorry. I know you, and I know you won't do it again." James nods his head, agreeing, and caresses your cheek, "That's enough for me."
You kiss his lips and then smile at him and James is sure his heart will explode from happiness. The rain finally slows as he listens to your words and in a breathless whisper he vows to never do anything like this again.
And he never does.
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kookxmira · 6 months
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Workaholic 1 | Jeon Jungkook
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"tell me baby, how was the kiss?"
smut
ceo!jungkook x wife!reader
summary : how’s the best way to tell your husband his enemy kissed you? while he’s fucking you.
WARNING : kissing, begging, penetration, rough sex, manhandling, doggy style, missionary, degradation, squirting
word count : 3.6k
part 2
-
you hardly remember the last time you dressed this beautifully, wearing a tight red dress that accentuates your curves in all the right places.
you don't have a reason to look this good anymore, but now that you're all dressed up, you miss it.
you were eager to show your husband the dress, but work is keeping him busy again tonight.
you wish he could've been here. you wish you were slow dancing with him and kissing his lips, but instead, you're drowning down your fourth cup of wine.
"hey," a voice calls from behind, pulling you out of your drunken haze.
you turn your head, checking to see who the voice belongs to, and in that very moment, your heart skips a thunderous beat.
"hi..." you greet back.
feeling apprehensive, you instinctively reach for your purse to prepare your leave, but minho speaks before you can.
"you should stay. a little company wouldn't hurt right?" he suggests.
caught in a slight dilemma, you hesitate on what to do. should you engage in a conversation with your husband's enemy or walk away?
you know it should've been the latter, but your feet stay in place.
"where's your husband?" minho inquires, scanning the crowd with a mischievous glint.
"he's busy with work," you reply. you see the small smile appear on his lips before he looks back at you.
"since we're both alone, how about a dance?" he says, placing a hand on top of yours.
oh.
surprised by his request, you quickly remove your hand from underneath his. of course the obvious answer is no. how could you possibly dance with someone your husband despises?
"no thank you," you reply gently.
minho's eyes twinkle as he looks you up and down, licking his lip.
"you're wearing this beautiful dress and you're not even going to dance?... don't be lame."
you'll admit, it look you a while to find a dress this perfect and that's because you were only doing it for jungkook.
it really is a shame he couldn't make it.
"us? together? i just don't think that would be a good idea," you insist, shaking your head.
"because of your husband?"
"yes, exactly." that should've been obvious from the start.
"but he's not here.." minho smirks, leaning his head to get a better look at your face.
"that makes it worse," you retort with a raised brow, coming to final terms that his intentions aren't as pure you tried to make them to be.
"i just can't help it... i think you look absolutely gorgeous," he compliments.
caught off guard, you avoid eye contact. "oh. well, thank you," you mutter.
you're just confused. you have no idea why he's talking to you.
"if you were my wife, i promise you would never have be alone," minho states in a lower tone, inching closer to you "i would treat you better than your husband."
you quickly move away from him, creating a safe distance as you shake your head.
"jungkook does treat me right," you state firmly, a hint of defensiveness in your voice.
"a true gentlemen would know if his women was feeling lonely," minho tells you. "your body yearns for the attention of your husband, but he can't satisfy you. no, he can't do that."
"that's not true," you step in defensively.
"he's only busy with work and although he doesn't have time for me, i still love him," you add.
"but does he love you?"
you hesitate..
"he does love me," you mutter, averting your gaze to the abandoned wine on the table.
it reminds you of jungkook. it reminds you of the reason why you started drinking again after many years of cutting it out of your life.
minho's smirk deepens at your change of expression.
lost in your thoughts, you fail to the notice the hunger of his gaze fixated on your lips.
"to be fair.." minho continues, his voice softening as he gets closer, "it's common for husbands to grow bored of their wives, even if they're as beautiful as you."
before you have the chance to react, minho's lips smash onto yours in a sudden unwelcome kiss. you instinctively push him away as you stand up abruptly.
"minho!" you exclaim, voice drowned out by the blasting music that fills the large room.
"hmm, better than i thought. cherry lip gloss?" he retorts, a malicious smirk playing on his lips.
a mix of disgust, guilt, and anger courses through your body and slowly, you begin step backwards, unaware of the sudden presence behind you. just as you teeter on the edge of a small step, a pair of arms catch you before you fall.
"are you alright?" taehyung's concerned voice fills your ears.
although surprised by his unexpected appearance, you're relieved as you nod at his question.
without any hesitation, he drags you away to a quieter corner near the entrance.
"why were you talking to him?" taehyung questions, his voice laced with a mix of worry and confusion.
taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you try to gather your thoughts. everything had just escalated so quickly.
"i... don't know," you mutter softly.
you're aware that engaging in a conversation with minho is strictly forbidden, a rule repeatedly told by both jungkook and taehyung.
"i never intended for anything to happen. i.. don't know what I was thinking," you confess.
"i saw him kiss you," taehyung sighs, rubbing his forehead. "i know that's not your fault, but don't ever, and I mean it y/n. don't ever talk to him again," he says sternly.
"okay," you softly reply.
"don't be angry at me, but i actually told jungkook to come and pick you up," taehyung reveals, and your eyes widen from panic.
"he texted me and asked if you were here because he noticed you weren't home," he adds.
dang it.
feeling slightly overwhelmed by everything that's happened with minho, and now with what's going to happen with jungkook, you sigh in distress.
"he's here," taehyung announces and your heart jumps at the news as you quickly straighten your posture.
as your husband approaches, you notice him engrossed in a phone call, and you nervously gulp down the lump in your throat.
"thanks for texting hyung," jungkook says before firmly grabbing a hold of your wrist. you're unable to give taehyung a proper goodbye as you're dragged out of the door.
once you reach the car, jungkook opens the door for you, a stern look in his eyes.
"get in the car," jungkook commands, his tone telling you that he doesn't care about your explanation as of right now.
he ends the phone call, telling his secretary he won't be available for the rest of the night before he drives off.
"wanna tell me why you snuck out?" he asks, a small tinge of anger in his tone.
you understand why he's upset. after all you lied about going to sleep early and then snuck out. and lying has never been an issue in your guy’s relationship.
"i just didn't want to be stuck at home," you reply honestly, nervously biting your lip.
"you still shouldn't have lied to me," jungkook asserts, one hand on the wheel with the other in his lap.
both of you fall silent for a moment, the only sounds permeating the air being the distant hums of passing cars and the rustling wind.
that's until jungkook picks up on the familiar fruity scent in the air, and he furrows a brow.
"were you drinking?" he questions in a mix of concern and disbelief.
a surge of panic hits you, causing your body to tense involuntarily.
"uh. just a bit of wine," you mumble, voice barely audible.
you can see the way jungkook's jaw clenches, frustration building up.
"you always throw up after drinking wine, so why do you keep drinking it?" jungkook scolds sternly.
"i don't throw up anymore," you say, like it's any better.
you know that's not an excuse for drinking, but you're unsure of how to explain yourself right now.
"y/n. it's not just about that, it's about your health," jungkook says frustratedly "we've already had this conversation before."
you close your eyes for a brief second as a soft sigh escapes your lips. you really don't want to argue right now because you already know you're in the wrong for drinking.
at the same time, he pulls up to the driveway and you quickly hop out of the car. you head to your shared bedroom, with jungkook cautiously following behind.
the discomfort of your high heels becomes so unbearable that you almost stumble on the stairs, so you quickly kick them off when you reach the room.
when you step in front of the full-length mirror, you notice your disheveled hair and slightly smudged eyeliner.
you honestly don't know why you even try so hard to look good sometimes when it's all for nothing.
you catch a glimpse of jungkook's reflection in the mirror, his eyes fixated on you, but you choose to ignore it.
he removes his blazer, his movements deliberate before gently encircling your waist and tugging you closer to him.
deciding to admire you instead, he takes a deep breath to let go of his frustration, inhaling your sweet rose scented perfume.
"you look stunning," jungkook compliments, looking you and down through the mirror.
"let me fuck your brains out, yeah?" he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
you take a moment before you respond, gulping down the lump in your throat.
"jungkook, we were just arguing-"
"i need to teach you a lesson," jungkook speaks softly, making you anticipate his next movements.
he abruptly pushes you down, bending you over your makeup table, knocking down and over some products.
"jungkook!" you let out in surprise.
"my beautiful wife needs to be taught a harsh lesson," he says, roughly lifting the tight dress over your ass. "she needs to learn that lying and sneaking out has consequences."
he slaps your ass, hand imprinting on your flesh as you whine from the sting.
"you look so fucking beautiful in this dress," jungkook whispers. "and i'm about to fuck you in it."
he swiftly grabs your arm, turning you around to kiss your pretty lips before he proceeds to push you on the bed with a smile.
"open your pretty legs, baby," he commands, slowly removing the black tie from around his neck.
he takes a seat on the chair in front of you, eyes dark as he waits for you to comply.
"i said open your fucking legs Y/N," he repeats.
you scurry to the top of the bed, gradually spreading your thighs for your husband.
he stands up and slowly unbuttons his dress shirt, his gaze intimate and naughty.
you feel your panties gush with wetness again and bite your lip to refrain yourself from moaning.
"miss my cock huh?" jungkook teases, a smug grin on his face.
although you don't respond, the look on your face explains everything.
he gets rid of his dress pants, his semi-hard cock coming in view as he slowly strokes it up and down while looking at your body.
his cock begins to harden, blue veins becoming prominent.
at the sight, you subconsciously close your legs to get some friction.
"open your legs," jungkook commands again, in irritation.
he watches you struggle to obey as your thighs barely part, slightly rubbing against each other.
he roughly grabs your ankles and swiftly tugs you to end of the bed, forcefully prying your legs open before he slaps your drenched pussy.
"what? i haven't fucked my wife in so long and all the sudden she doesn't know how to follow orders." jungkook shakes his head in disapproval.
"i'm sorry," you mutter.
"i bet you are hmm," he hums, tightening his grip on your neck.
you feel the head of jungkook's cock poke at your entrance and you hold your breath, waiting for him to push all the way in, but he doesn't. he only pushes the head in before pulling back out.
"stop teasing me please," you beg, furrowing your brows in desperation.
all you need is to feel him.
he laughs in delight, enjoying how desperate you are for him.
he then pushes the head of his cock inside you again and pulls out just to hear your cries.
a minute later, he finally pushes all the way in, knocking the air out of your lungs. your mouth falls agape, unable to make a sound as you feel his cock scape against the inside of your tight pussy.
"shit- i feel like i'm fucking a virgin," jungkook voices breathily, forehead coming in contact with yours.
he begins to thrust in and out and you whine, the pleasure making your stomach churn.
"ah fuck-" you finally moan.
jungkook pushes deeper inside you and you gasp, hands coming to touch his pecs as you breath against his lips.
"jungkook, you're so fucking good- fuck" you moan desperately.
"yeah?" he responds teasingly, a handsome smirk on his face.
"hm- you fuck me so good!" you repeat.
jungkook continues to pound your cunt, the tightness of your walls making him go absolutely crazy.
he stares at your fucked-out expression, your red cheeks wet from the tears running down your face.
"fuck- please," you sob, submitting to jungkook just like he wants.
"you dirty- little fucking slut," he says through gritted teeth, feeling his cock become even bigger.
his eyes bounce between the cream on his cock and to your face, unable to decide which one he likes more. he loves both, he wants to see your white cream paint his cock while your alluring face contorts in pleasure.
the sound of the bed hitting the wall becomes louder and he sighs in pleasure, hands tightening around your neck again.
before he can go any further, the ringing of your phone goes off causing jungkook to groan. it takes him a second before he pulls out, leading you to whine at the empty feeling.
"it might be an emergency," he mutters to you before quickly rising off the bed. "stay right there," he instructs.
you do as he says, curiously waiting for him to get your phone while your throbbing pussy begs for attention.
you're unsure of who would be calling you at this hour.
jungkook sighs, retrieving your purse from the nearby table and rummages through it. his eyes land on taehyung's name flashing bright.
raising a brow in question, he walks back over to you and throws your phone on the bed. he nods at it.
"answer the phone."
you grab the device beside you, about to answer, but jungkook sinks back onto the bed, cock returning to your entrance.
"jungkook-" you gasp, attempting to stop him, but he grabs your wrist, pinning it to the bed as he shakes his head.
"no baby. answer the phone," he says, pushing his thick cock into you once again.
you moan loudly, unable to control the lewd sound.
"please-" you whimper.
he goes easy on you, stopping his thrusts as he motions for you to answer the phone.
you clumsily push the button and immediately, the booming sound of taehyung's voice comes through.
"hey, I called to see if you made it home safely," tae says, and you curse under your breath in a little bit of annoyance and pleasure.
this call is in fact, not an emergency.
"y-yes, i'm home safe," you reply, trying your very best to sound as if your husband's seven inch cock isn't inside of you right now, but it's difficult.
jungkook smirks, stifling a mocking laugh.
"that's good. and sorry i basically told on you," taehyung laughs.
"it's not your fault, it's jungkook," you say, unable to resist the urge to blame him, but that doesn't go well for you as he thrusts a lot deeper into you.
you accidentally drop the phone and it lands next to your head as you silently moan, whimpering against his lips.
"did you guys fight?" taehyung asks.
you slightly recall the small fight in the car about your drinking habit, thinking that's what he meant.
"a little.. bit," you let out breathily.
"yeah.." taehyung chuckles. "did he get mad?"
"y-yes, he was being a jerk," you reply.
jungkook simply pokes his tongue at the side of his cheek at your response, thrusting harder into you and you cry, biting onto your lower lip as you shut your eyes.
you slightly push his chest, signaling for him to go easy on you, but all he does is show a lopsided grin, telling you he's going to do the opposite just to see you try not to moan.
you whine into his ear, nails scratching his back as you let him fuck you so good.
"well.. i don't blame kook. i would hate it too if minho kissed areum," taehyung blurts out.
his words cause you to freeze in surprise cause you surely weren't expecting him to say that.
jungkook furrows his eyebrows, replaying taehyung's words in his head to double check if he heard it right before he stops thrusting.
"i- um-" you stutter, mind racing to find the right words, but you're too late as jungkook figures things out, your panicked expression only adding to his final answer.
"you kissed minho?" jungkook's voice rings out in anger and disbelief.
in a sudden burst of frustration, he snatches your phone, abruptly ending the call.
his eyes darken, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.
"minho was at the fucking party?" he asks, anger coursing through his body.
he grits his teeth, deeply breathing against your face as he stares at you.
"jungkook-," you try to explain, hands on his chest to push him away, but he doesn't move.
instead, he manhandles you so swiftly, moving you on your hand and knees, slapping your ass hard, making you wail.
he pushes your face to the bed, smearing your pretty makeup against the white sheets.
jungkook inserts his cock back in your pussy in one fast movement and you gasp for air. you can feel him so much deeper this way, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix.
he angrily begins to pound harder into you.
he puts your hair in a ponytail with his hand, yanking you backward until your back is pressed against his chest.
"i- specifically told you to stay away from him," jungkook grunts into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "he got to kiss.. your pretty lips."
you whimper, trying to explain yourself, but his cock doesn't allow you to.
"tell me baby, how was the kiss?" he asks, his unoccupied hand digging into your hip.
"m-minho-" you moan loudly right as he hits your g-spot.
you begin to shake, the repetitive rub against your g-spot making you see stars. you would've fallen over by now if jungkook wasn't holding you to his chest.
"what's that?" jungkook mockingly says, knowing he's hitting your g-spot so perfectly that you're unable to speak.
"ah!- minho k-" mascara tears stream down your face, your red cherry lip gloss smeared across your cheek.
"stop moaning his fucking name," jungkook grumbles, landing another hard slap on your reddened ass.
he finally let's you go and you fall right back on the bed, cheek pushed against the sheets before he picks up an even faster pace.
"tell me what happened y/n," he says, sweat dripping down his face.
"oh god! s-slow down-" you manage to let out, sobbing in pleasure.
"tell me what happened," he repeats in irritation.
he spanks your ass two times on each side before grabbing your hips to go deeper, but slows down his pace so you have the chance to talk.
"i- ... i was talking to him," you admit breathily, turning to face him with innocent eyes. "and he started telling me.." you hesitate, turning back to the bed to avoid showing guilt.
"telling you what?" jungkook asks, beginning to increase his pace again.
"how b-bad of a husband you are," you whimper. "he said- that i'd never have to be alone a-agin, if he was my husband."
you moan wholeheartedly, your g-spot being pounded so hard that it becomes too much to bare.
"ah! he- d-doesn't think you- love me," you let out, more tears streaming down your fucked out face.
and with that, jungkook fucks you harder, faster, and deeper, making you wail pathetically as your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"and do you really believe that?" he questions, grunting at how close he is to cumming inside your dirty walls, but he controls it.
"no- jungkook," you sigh, feeling your orgasm approaching.
he can feel you tightening around him, making him angrier.
"fuck y/n. you're getting so fucking tight."
his hips stutter and he growls, knowing he's about to cum hard.
"talking about minho turns you on, huh?"
"no-" you moan, stomach tightening.
"no?" jungkook pounds your cunt so hard that you shake, screaming his name until your voice gives out.
"i'm cummin-" you squeal, body shaking from high pleasure.
your pussy becomes so tight and jungkook pulls out from the pressure, watching you squirt all over the bed as you moan shamelessly.
he pumps his cock, groaning at the lewd sight of you destroying the sheets and he finally shoots his cum, painting your expensive dress all dirty.
he moans proudly, coming down from his high as he jerks his cock between your ass, wanting to feel your beautiful pussy rub against his vein.
"fuck y/n," jungkook growls, watching you shake from overstimulation.
he feels his cock throb before it begins to soften and he looks at the mess you both made with a chuckle.
he gets off the bed, taking deeps breath to regain control of his breathing before grabbing a towel from the bathroom.
he wipes the cum off your back and in between your legs.
jungkook then turns you around on your back and smiles at how you beautiful you look, even after getting fucked and crying your makeup off.
you look into his handsome eyes and he can see the guilt written all over your face.
"i know i s-shouldn't have been talking to him, but we were just talking and all the sudden he was kissing me and i-"
"yeah baby?" jungkook interrupts, wiping your stained cheek with his thumb. "but what did i say about talking to him?"
you gulp nervously, hoping he won't get mad again.
"to walk away if he ever tries to talk to me," you answer, melting under his touch.
it makes you feel even guiltier.
"and what did my baby do?"
"talk to him.." you mutter.
all of the sudden, jungkook sucks in a breath, a groan leaving his lips as he tilts his head toward the ceiling.
he rolls his eyes in annoyance.
"why does my wife have to be so gorgeous?" jungkook sighs, dropping his gaze to look at your beautiful eyes.
your cheeks turn a rosy pink as you avoid his strong gaze, but he captures your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him.
"i love you," jungkook says and you feel your eyes begin to water, the loving feeling swimming in your heart.
"i love you too."
1K notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 3 months
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Prologue: The Moirai
An Ichor Veil (of Flower Kings) masterlist
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Ghost/Soap/female reader 1.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: modern setting retelling of Hades and Persephone A strange dream, a strange visit.
For months, you’ve had the same dream.
You’re wandering a valley, your valley, a lush, green collection of rolling peaks, sweet grass and clover nearly velvet beneath your bare feet. The sun, high in the sky, does not moisten your brow, or cause you distress. You do not thirst. You do not tire.
You only meander, feeding the earth snippets of power, growing flowers and vines, a plethora of life, amusing yourself, as you do every night.
You roam this meadow, until your eyes open at dawn, bullfrogs and crickets and the raw chirp of birds tapping against the windowpane, brightening you to the morning better than any alarm clock ever could.
But tonight, the dream is different.
You’ve never seen so much Narcissus. It paints an idyllic picture, bright petals sparkling far and wide, blanketing the hills until they swoop low in the soft belly of the dream. They draw you in, pulling you down until you’re seated amongst a mass of blooms, Asphodelus scattered throughout, honeysuckle vine curling through the grasses, more fragrant than sea spray, filling the air with an intoxicating sweetness that you can taste, crystal like dew dripping with jasmine and vanilla.
It's beautiful. 
A creek babbles nearby, crooning in its own language, rushing trickle drowning out your thoughts and feelings, twisting and tugging until it’s hard to remember you’re in a dream at all.
Is this not your meadow? 
Is this not your own? 
The Asphodelus shivers, rocking back and forth in a cool wind, the kind that chills your skin, whips around your shoulders and tousles the thin fabric of your shirt.
“Hello.” The greeting startles you, twists your torso in the waist deep flora. Rise. Instinct booms, like your mother’s chide ringing a shrill bell for you to obey.
A figure stands in the meadow behind you, tall beside the sun, rays of golden light casting long shadow across their features. You squint, but it’s of no use. You cannot make them out.
“Hello.” You mirror, palms forward, heels digging into the grass. There’s a sharp prick, a sting that bleeds, and you curse, lifting your hand for inspection. “Acantha.” You hiss at the goddess, as if she has anything to do with your dreams.
Gold runs from the wound like the creek, slicking your palm, coating your skin in ichor, your own lifeblood.
The lifeblood of the Golden ones.
Lest you forget.  
The figure kneels in the grass before you, their head bowed, black gloved hands reaching, tugging your palm upwards, dragging a thumb through the mess of ethereal life.
“I’m fine, just a prick.” You assure in the silence. There is so much light, and yet none, nothing to illuminate the face or the features of whomever it is that occupies your dream.
A fragment of your mind, perhaps. A trick of your mother’s. 
Or an interloper. 
“You’re hurt.” The dark pitch of the figure’s voice is startling. It’s fathomless, beautiful like the coast of the Aegean, guttural like the shout of death. Raw ruby, not quite plucked from its sanctuary, not quite finished or ready to be seen, a secret gem, only for you. The meadow rustles, thousands of faces in the little flowers leering, scowling, blue sky dimming into grey. Thunder shatters the tranquility, clapping in the distance, a garish boom sending electric shocks through the clouds, all manner of rumbles rolling over the hill.
Rot. It fills your soul in a flood, current wrapping around your ankles and tugging, like a thousand Oceanids lay at your feet, crying. Screaming.
But your hand is warm. Your hand is warm and it is held, for a moment, a moment in which you feel dramatically unlike yourself, unlike the fledging goddess you claim to be, unlike the unloved one you’re known as, and then-
it is cold. Your hand. Your heart. You. The being, the figure, is gone.
And you are alone.
The Greenhouse is quiet. An easy peace, so easily disturbed by comings and goings, friends and patrons, all manner of beings and others, stopping in and out.
They say hello. They ask for help, advice, favor. Some things you cannot give, even to some visitors who you hold close. Dearly.
These moments alone, moments of solitude in the Greenhouse, and some that you love the most. Moments when you're alone with yourself, your power, your connection to the earth. When you can feel it the most, the worms in the dirt, the roots desperate for water, the blooms aching to flourish. You are all these things, when you're alone. A power unto yourself. A goddess of life, of fertility, of Spring. The essential reawakening. The circle of seasons. 
The secret weighs heavily. 
But a goddess of Spring, is no mere goddess of Spring, your mother's voice echoes. A goddess of life, may as well wear a target on her back. 
This morning, when the dew still refracts the light of the sun and birds are singing, no one comes. You sit alone, pruning, detangling, taming a pothos, encouraging its lovely green vine to live on its own. It protests, and you huff at it, conjuring slivers of magic, feeding it kernels as if you care for a child, trying to encourage it to eat. 
“You must try, you know.” It curls around the back of your hand, lovely silver-white speckled leaves shimmering in the morning’s light. “You’re not staying here. The Greenhouse is full. I don’t have any more room.” The overcrowded shelves and carts agree, saplings and ivy and atropa belladonna all singing in unison, quivering voices rising in protest of the pothos’ weak effort. “See? You’ll make everyone unhappy.”
“You have a habit of talking to all your plants?” A musical voice chimes from the front door, and you jump from the stool, a book on your right clattering to the concrete.
“No, I…” Your voice fails, the woman in the doorway steps closer, allowing her mortal appearance to fall away, removing her Cloak and revealing her true identity.
The Moirai.
The Three who are One. 
She turns her head to the east, a flash of the Maiden surveying your workbench, and then the Crone shines through, all faces eventually melding into one.
The Mother. 
“Daughter of Demeter.” She inclines her head in greeting, and you blink rapidly.
“You...” What are they… is she, doing here? “You shouldn’t be here.” You swallow the fear that races in a cold rush under your skin. A frozen river runs in your bones, frigid rapids roaring, trapped beneath a thin sheet of ice, churning your power into a weapon of terror, an uncontrollable force that tries to build beneath the swell.
“Your mother is preoccupied.” She waves her hand; unease props the hair up on the back of your neck.
“What do you want?”
“To see you.” She strolls, careful, casual steps echoing off glass. “Finally, in the flesh.” The sh sound hisses, and your power pulses, pushing forward in preparation. “You are truly as lovely as they say, little Spring Goddess.”
“I’m not the Goddess of Spring.” You rebuke, and the resounding chuckle is dry wine, a tatter of bubbles that on her tongue that sours your stomach.
“You are not.” She nods. “No. You’re so much more now. You will be.” She steps closer, red lips perfectly lined and plump, pursed as she stares you down. “I’m satisfied.” She murmurs, and even though she looks right at you, it’s as if you’re not in the room.
Rain drops patter on glass panels.
“Pity.” She frowns, and then winks as a young woman, as an old one too, vanishing from sight with each step she takes to the door.
The clock ticks too loudly, and it feels like doom. Like a shattered mirror, shattered reflection, shattered life.
The Moirai have never visited you. 
Why now?
Outside, a screech owl hoots, startling you backwards, a hand rocking down to the work bench in an effort to steady your trembling legs.
“Ouch!” you shriek, flipping your palm over, a pair of pruning shears dug into your skin, golden blood leaking out around their cool metallic points. “Fuck.” Your lips cover the puncture, tongue flicking against the rivulet of ichor.
The screech owl screams.
The throne room is silent. Darkness ebbs, inky webs slithering across the floor, shadowing the blood red stone that spills from the mouth of the dais, two identical, straight back chairs sitting proudly in the middle of the hall, dwarfed by columns stretching so tall Johnny swears they surpass the boundary of this realm. Their onyx marble shrouds Simon, who stands maskless, his hands clasped behind his back, peering into the pitch-black pool of liquid vibrating inside a silver bowl. 
“Who is she?” There is a woman in the seeing glass. Beautiful, bright, an overflowing bouquet of narcissus, an endless melody of spring, the promise of early death. The greenhouse breathes in her presence, all nature of blooms and blossoms straining closer, desperate to be within fingertips reach. “A goddess?” He looks closer, and Simon’s amber laden eyes affix his, broad palm tenderly cupping Johnny’s cheek. His answer is a whisper, something unearthly and severe as they are: two Kings of the Underworld, two souls twisted together, two macabre fates made one. His words are a looming promise, a vow so ruinous Johnny knows the Moirai howl and the Lethe trembles.
“Our wife.”
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roosterforme · 4 months
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The Younger Kind Part 48 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is just trying to make it to the weekend. When he realizes he needs to visit Meredith, he's starting to feel like his sanity is hanging on by a thread. At least he has you, and he knows he can trust you implicitly. And maybe this will give him the kind of closure he didn't know he needed.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mention of abortion, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4800 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Afternoon rain clouds had rolled in, making the city look darker than normal. You noticed right away that the usual sunlight wasn't coming in the windows at work, and it was putting everyone in a strange mood. Even the tiny patients you were taking care of seemed to be crying a little bit more than usual. 
You needed to leave soon to pick up Noah which required you to cancel your nail appointment. Bradley didn't even tell you why he'd be late, he just said he would be. It wasn't that you didn't trust him, you just wanted to know that he was okay, but you hadn't heard from him again.
As soon as you walked outside and headed for your car, it started pouring rain. It was so unexpected, you started laughing. You couldn't even remember the last time you'd had a rainy day. Maybe if the lightning and thunder held off, you could take Noah outside to play in it. But as you opened your car door and ducked inside, a streak of jagged light went shooting across the sky. 
"Damn," you muttered, carefully driving through the parking lot. You thought about Skittles home alone in her crate. She must be terrified all alone right now, and at this rate, it was going to take you longer than usual to get to Noah. Traffic was backed up like crazy, because nobody knew how to drive in this. You sat at the same red light for three cycles before you were finally able to move at all, and by the time you reached Noah's daycare, it was almost time for them to close.
You dashed out through the rain and inside the building where you were confronted with Casey while you looked like a drowned rat. "Common sense would tell you to use an umbrella when it's raining," she said sweetly as you started to shiver in the air conditioning. 
"It's San Diego," you replied coolly. "It never rains here."
She made a production of leaning past you to look out the door. "I think you're wrong, but I can't be certain." She set the clipboard down on the counter and turned away from you as she said, "Poor Noah is going to get completely soaked."
You rolled your eyes as you signed your name a little bit aggressively. It's not like the child would melt. If Bradley came to pick him up instead of you, there was no doubt in your mind that Casey would have bent over backwards to make sure there was an umbrella for him to use. But since it was you, she just stood there with her arms crossed as you scooped Noah up.
"You ready to get a little wet, sweet Noah?" you asked him, kissing his cheek. "It's really raining hard."
He squealed in delight as you ran to your car with him, but you ended up getting a lot more soaked than he did. Your scrubs were clinging to your body when you finally closed the drivers' door behind you. "How about we go home, get dried off and snuggle under a blanket while we watch Mickey Mouse?"
"Yes!" cheered Noah. Maybe you'd just order a pizza later when Bradley got home. You were wet and tired and just wanted to relax. 
"Okay. Here we go."
---------------------------
Bradley was a nervous mess on his way to see Tracy. "Come on," he groaned, trying to fight his way through the traffic downtown to get to her office in the rain. He should have left base as soon as he was grounded for the rest of the afternoon, but everyone started talking shop, including the admirals, and he didn't want to leave too early. 
The array of invasive thoughts plaguing him at the moment was making his stomach churn. Every image in his mind was worse than the last. He was itching to call the First Bank of San Diego, but he thought he'd better talk to Tracy about it first. Reeking of jet fuel that was only made worse by getting his flight suit soaked in the rain, he rode the elevator up to her office. It was kind of late, and the building was mostly empty, but sure enough, the lights were shining brightly in her suite. 
When he walked through the first set of glass doors, Tracy leaned out of her office door with a completely neutral expression on her face. "Hi. Come on back."
Bradley closed the distance in a few long strides. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I really didn't want to have to see you today. And I don't have my checkbook with me."
Tracy shook her head and gestured toward the small conference table before she grabbed a Red Bull from her refrigerator. "I'm not billing you for this."
Bradley's heart took a nosedive as he sank down into one of the chairs. If she wasn't even collecting payment, this must be worse than he thought. "Just get it over with, please. What's going on? Did Meredith open an account in my name or something?" he asked. Then he gripped the edge of the table. "In Noah's name? Fuck! Did she figure out a way to fucking bankrupt me?"
He was about to be sick. Once again, he was kicking himself for never taking all of these precautions earlier, right after Meredith left him with a three month old. There would have been ways to safeguard both of them from this sort of thing, but he would have never believed Meredith was capable of doing what she did before. She probably took out a mortgage or opened a credit card. She would have had easy access to Bradley's banking information and social security number. It had been ages since he checked his credit score.
Tracy was offering him a Red Bull, but she slowly pulled it away from him like it was the last thing in the world he needed as he gripped her table so hard, the whole thing was vibrating a little bit.
"Take a deep breath, Bradley. It's nothing so extreme," she assured him in a calm voice as she pried his fingers away from her furniture. "Meredith opened an account right after Noah was born and put a few thousand dollars into it."
Bradley clasped his hands in his lap and thought back a few years. Meredith had been happy for a little while. She seemed to warm up to the idea of Noah, and after he was born and they had a tiny newborn at home, she was very involved. But as the weeks wore on, Bradley noticed her involvement slipping while he was the one picking up all the loose ends and working full time. 
"I don't remember anything about a bank account," he told Tracy. "What does this have to do with me exactly?"
She took a drink before she said, "You're listed as a custodian on the account. Technically the money was put in Noah's name, but since he's a minor, he can't handle it himself."
His brow was furrowed as he shook his head. "I'm still confused. Isn't it Meredith's account?"
"Yes and no," she replied. "Once she put your name and social security number on the line below hers, she made you liable for the money, too. And the bank must have uncovered that Meredith is incarcerated. This happens from time to time. When they couldn't reach her, they found her lawyer's information on the court docket. And then her lawyer called me. Apparently your address wasn't listed."
Bradley felt like his head was swimming with information. "So you're telling me I can go to the Coronado branch of the First Bank of San Diego tomorrow and get this money out?"
"Potentially," she replied mildly.
He thought for a beat before he asked, "Is Meredith still entitled to the money? Even though I have sole custody of Noah?"
"Sure. Her name is also on the account." She shrugged and checked the time. "It's not quite six yet. Should we call the bank and find out exactly what's going on?"
"Yeah," he agreed, reaching for his phone. It would be better to do this with her here so he could make sure he got all the information he needed. "Should I just put it on speaker?"
She nodded as she finished her drink and tossed the can into her already overflowing recycle bin. He tapped on the number of the missed calls from earlier and waited while it rang. "First Bank of San Diego corporate offices, this is Belinda. How can I help you?"
Bradley cleared his throat. "Uh, hi, Belinda. My name is Bradley Bradshaw, and I missed some phone calls earlier? I... was hoping you could answer some questions about an account?"
"Please hold."
He looked at Tracy who seemed completely unfazed by all of this as she examined her manicure. It was great that she was always able to stay so calm, but his heart was thundering up into his throat. He wasn't about to believe there weren't a thousand credit cards maxed out in his name until he investigated it all for himself.
"This is Barry."
Bradley didn't know quite what to say as he cleared his throat again. "Hi, this is Bradley Bradshaw. I'm actually here with my lawyer, and I missed some calls earlier?"
"Right, yes," came the man's voice along with the sound of him typing on a keyboard. "We were trying to reach you regarding an account that was opened with your minor child listed as a beneficiary. Information would have been mailed to you, but we did not have an associated address on file."
"Can you tell us more about the account?" Tracy asked, and Bradley was relieved that she knew what to do.
"Well, I can tell you that once an account reaches over $15,000 without any activity in the prior three years, we make a courtesy phone call to see if the owner wants to move any of the funds."
"Fifteen thousand?" Bradley asked, running his fingers through his hair anxiously. "That account has fifteen thousand dollars in it? And she never touched it?"
Barry was silent for a beat. "I really can't provide much more information unless you visit one of our branches in person, sir."
"Shit," Bradley muttered, leaning back in his seat and staring at the ceiling. 
"Sounds great, Barry. Thanks for your time," Tracy said before she ended the call for him. "You need to go to the bank. Can you go tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Bradley grunted. "So... there's money just sitting there that potentially belongs to Noah through me?"
"Sounds like it."
Bradley met her eyes. "And I can just take it out? And move it into a different account?"
Now she looked a little apprehensive. "I wouldn't advise you to do it quite that way."
-----------------------------
You let Noah play out in the rain with Skittles for approximately five minutes while you stood inside the backdoor and watched. He had bugged so long and so hard, you caved. But as soon as you heard a rumble of thunder, you ran out and picked him up where he was splashing in a puddle in his dinosaur rain boots while the tiny pup barked. You got soaked all over again in the process, but you carried him inside as lightning flashed across the sky. 
"It's getting too stormy!" you told him over all the noise. "Time to go in!"
You grabbed a towel from the stack you left on the kitchen table, and Noah let you fuss over him. You wrapped Skittles in a towel when she started to shake from the cold air conditioned temperature inside, and eventually all three of you ended up on the couch under a blanket with cartoons playing. There was no sign of Bradley, but when you texted and asked him to bring pizza home, he agreed right away. 
Anything my Princess wants.
You smiled at your phone as you sat with Noah on your lap and Skittles on his lap. Every few minutes, you buried your nose in his fresh smelling hair and inhaled as you gave him a squeeze. "When's Daddy coming home?" he asked as the sky outside just got darker as the evening wore on. "I'm hungry."
"Soon," you promised him, but it had gotten so late, you were about to make Noah a snack when you finally heard a key in the front door lock. 
Skittles was the first one who jumped down from the couch. "Daddy!" Noah launched off of your lap and ran to the door as Bradley kicked it open. His hair and flight suit were basically soaked, but he was holding a pizza and a container of salad with a coffee cup balanced on the top. His handwriting on the cup was wet, and the marker was starting to run, but you could still read Princess. And he looked absolutely exhausted. 
"Hey, Bub," he mumbled, kneeling to kiss Noah while he balanced everything in one hand. "You having fun with Mommy?"
Even Bradley's voice was laced with fatigue that you could practically feel as you stood and went to him. You kissed his wet cheek and whispered, "Thank you," as you took the food and your coffee cup from his hand. He just looked at you and nodded, and you gave him a minute with Noah and Skittles as you took the food to the kitchen and got more clean towels. He was just taking off his boots when you returned and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
He grunted as he took the towels from you and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we wait until Noah's in bed?"
You really did not want to wait another hour, but you agreed anyway, and Bradley kissed your lips before he ran a towel over his face and hair. "Thanks, Baby," he whispered as you gave him a minute to get changed. You took Noah into the kitchen and started to cut up a slice of pizza for him. You were just adding a liberal amount of dressing onto the salad when Bradley walked in wearing gym shorts and a black undershirt that hugged his perfect torso, fresh from a quick shower.
"I love that about you," he crooned next to your ear, his hands soft on your waist as he nodded at the salad.
You laughed and said, "I know you do, Daddy." You were tempted to crawl onto his lap and try to make him feel better while he ate, because he'd clearly had a stressful day. With a quick glance at Noah where he was getting sauce all over his face, you decided to settle into your own seat with a piece of pizza and half of the salad. Bradley stacked two slices together and ate them at the same time in about ten bites. 
"You really had a bad day, huh?" you asked, breaking off a piece of your crust and eating it. 
He shook his head, brow scrunched in something like concern as he watched his son eat. "Not exactly. Just very long."
Once all the food was gone, you sipped your coffee while you cleaned up. Bradley would have normally done that, but when Noah asked to play blocks with him, you sent them into the living room. You could hear the block towers go clattering to the floor over and over again as Noah giggled. The rain hadn't tapered off, and you were already starting to yawn by eight o'clock. That's when Bradley poked his head into the kitchen with Skittles held in one big hand.
"Hey, Baby. I'm going to get Noah ready for bed, and then we can talk in the living room?"
You nodded and finished loading the dishwasher before curling up with the blanket on the couch. Bradley brought Noah in for a goodnight kiss and then vanished again. By the time he returned empty handed, you were half asleep, but you climbed onto his lap after he sat down. "What's going on?" you asked, your cheek cradled on his shoulder and your lips brushing his neck. You could feel his soft length against your thigh through his gym shorts, and you let your hand settle low on his abs.
He cleared his throat softly and whispered, "I need to go to Las Colinas Detention Facility either tomorrow or Wednesday." A chill rippled through your body even though you were tucked in his warm embrace. You jerked yourself back so you were looking him in the eye as he added, "I need to talk to Meredith."
All you could picture was the stress you saw on his face months ago when she dragged him through the court battle over Noah. You grabbed at your arm where you'd gotten all cut up when you fell in the parking lot at Meyer Park. You could practically still feel and hear all of the pieces of broken glass crunching beneath your feet when you found that your apartment had been broken into. 
"Why?" you gasped as tears stung at your eyes. A sick feeling settled into your belly, and all you could do was repeat the question, "Why?"
"Shh. It's okay, Princess," he promised, kissing your cheeks and the tears you weren't even aware you'd shed. "I'm going to make sure it's okay."
You were nodding and shaking a little bit as you listened to him explain that Meredith had opened an account when Noah was a baby. Apparently there was a substantial amount of money now, and Bradley's name was also on the account. "It makes me feel like, even just for a little while, Meredith actually cared about Noah," he whispered, and now you saw tears in his eyes too before he tipped his head back against the couch. "I have a lot of mixed feelings about this, but I guess it's not all bad."
You swallowed down the discomfort you felt and whispered, "You loved her then. And she loved you. And Noah. I mean... she was his mom."
Bradley lifted his head up and tightened his grip around your waist. "You are Noah's mom," he insisted, and you immediately burst into tears. "That's how I want it. That's how Noah wants it. That's how you told me you want it. And that's not going to change. But I just feel like Noah should have this money from Meredith."
You nodded as he wiped at your tears. "He should," you sobbed. "But why do you have to go to Las Colinas? Why can't you just withdraw it?"
Now Bradley let his forehead come to rest on your shoulder, like he needed the comfort associated with being close to you. "I could do that, but I stopped to talk to Tracy, and she thinks that would do more harm than good. There's a simple form I can get from the bank tomorrow after I talk to someone about the exact amount in the account. The plan is for me to take the form to Las Colinas myself, talk to Meredith, and ask her to sign it and effectively forfeit the funds over to me. That way there could be no questions asked."
"And what if she won't sign it?"
He kissed your cheek. "Then you and I can decide if I should withdraw the cash and move it to a different account or just leave it there and pretend it doesn't exist."
You were struck once again by the way Bradley made all of his decisions for you and with you. He treated you with respect when he made plans, and he valued your opinion. "Do you want me to come with you? To the bank or to see Meredith? So you don't have to do it alone?"
His lips and mustache were tickling your jaw as he said, "No. Tracy and I agreed I should go alone. And I really want you to take care of Noah after work so that's one less thing I have to worry about." He kissed you softly. "But thank you for offering."
And that's how you fell asleep, on his lap with his lips pressed to your skin.
------------------------------
Bradley couldn't be sure if it was his khaki uniform, but it definitely seemed to help his cause. When he got to the bank after work on Tuesday, he was called right back to a small office where an agent started helping him. "Okay, Lieutenant Bradshaw, let's check this account balance for you," she said as she typed in his social security number. "You are looking at $17,271.28. Would you like to transfer it to a different account?"
He just gaped at her. That could pay for a year of college for Noah. "Actually... I'm going to need to think about it," he replied, and a little while later he left her office with a single piece of paper. 
He started the thirty minute drive out of the city to the women's correctional facility. You were probably leaving work right now. Maybe you were pulling into the daycare parking lot. Either way, he didn't have to worry about his son when he was with you. Instead, he could focus on what he needed to do right now, because he was having some mixed feelings about taking this money at all. But if it was actually intended to be used for Noah, then he wanted to give Meredith the opportunity to do the right thing. 
After he parked, he waited in line to be searched before entering the building. Here, his uniform did absolutely nothing. In fact, he had to remove his belt and all of his pins and leave them in a little tray in the front office before going though another metal detector. When an officer asked who he was there to see, she looked surprised when he said Meredith's name. 
"Right," she replied, leading him toward a small waiting area. "Sit in here, and I'll call you in if she wants to see you."
He eased himself down onto a metal chair that was bolted to the floor and started to sweat. If Meredith wouldn't even talk to him, then he was going to have to leave the money where it was. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to touch it. He was starting to resent even coming here, because this week was supposed to have been a fun one with the air show coming up on Saturday and the hospital tour on Friday night. He could have just told Tracy and everyone at the bank that he didn't care about the money.
"Bradshaw?" called a different officer, and Bradley stood. Well. Apparently she was willing to talk to him after all. A door was held open for him and then another one. He was scanned into a narrow hallway, and once that door closed behind him, he was scanned into a room with a large number '3' on it. 
And there sat his ex in a gray jumpsuit with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her sleeves were rolled up her forearms, her hair was longer now, and frankly she looked a lot better than he was expecting. Her eyes tracked his every move as she crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Bradley."
He sat in one of the two chairs that were once again bolted to the floor, and his knees almost hit hers as he did so. "Meredith. How are things?" he asked for a lack of anything better coming to his mind.
"What are you doing here?" she asked immediately, leaning a little closer to him. "What do you want?" When he hesitated with his answer, she laughed and shook her head. "You wouldn't be here if you didn't need something from me, so just spit it out."
He shifted in his seat and withdrew the sheet of folded paper from his pocket. "You opened a savings account for Noah right after he was born? I had no idea it existed. The bank just started trying to reach out to me, because you put my name on the account as well," he stated as he tried to hand her the paper. 
She stared at him, eyes wide as her cheeks flushed pink, but she said nothing, and she didn't move at all. 
"I'm assuming you forgot about it," he added. 
Meredith finally took the paper from him as she said, "Why didn't you just take the money then?" She seemed to begrudgingly move her icy stare from his face to the page as she unfolded it and started to read. Bradley knew if she signed it, she would be willingly forfeiting the funds. She would know the exact amount of money and offer it up on her own. He knew he shouldn't feel guilty about asking her to do this, but he kind of did anyway. And now that he was looking at her, he knew he couldn't just do it behind her back if she didn't sign.
"I wanted you to know about it before I did it," he told her softly. "I wanted to ask you why you put the money in the account in the first place."
She refolded the paper and once again met his gaze. "I originally opened the account so someday Noah could go to business school like me instead of joining the Navy like you."
Bradley nodded and almost wanted to smile. "Makes a lot of sense." He took a deep breath and whispered, "You were excited when you were pregnant. You were excited when he was a newborn."
Meredith closed her eyes and shook her head as she held her hand up in front of her. She didn't look at him as she said, "I tried, but I couldn't do it. You were better at all of it than I was, and I fucking hated it more and more every day. I hate being at home. I hated having to feed Noah and change diapers while you went back to work. I hated it so much. The four months that I took off completely ruined my career, and I was never able to recover. And that's where I was happiest."
Bradley nodded and clasped his hands in his lap. Her next sentence hurt him to hear, but she had every right to say it. "I think it would have been better for me if I'd had abortion. I think I could have been happy right now if I did." She kind of shrugged, barely looked at him and then turned toward the corner of the ceiling. Bradley followed her gaze as she loudly said into a camera, "Can somebody bring me a pen? I swear I won't stab him with it."
Bradley was afraid to say anything yet, and nobody appeared with a pen right away. Meredith read over the sheet of paper again, and eventually she said, "This was the only account I added your name to. Don't go sniffing around my bank for more, because you won't get it."
"Right," he replied, finding her words almost comical since she was the one trying to fleece him earlier this year. 
"And every cent goes into a savings account for college tuition for him. A university or a trade school or something. Anything except the Navy. And none of it goes to that disgusting little slut you're living with now."
Bradley had to bite back his response as the door opened, and an officer walked in with one black ink pen. She handed it to Meredith and stood next to her while she signed the form, and then the officer collected the pen once more before leaving the room. He was honestly a little shocked, but he accepted the paper when she handed it to him.
"Thank you," he told her, deciding not to mention that you were going to be his wife and Noah's legal parent sooner rather than later if he had anything to say about it. She really didn't need to know about that, because she didn't have any say in the matter. "I'll save it for Noah for school. And if he wants to join the Navy like a real idiot, then I'll donate it all to your alma mater. But just... thanks for signing for it."
She nodded. "You were going to be able to take it anyway. At least now you'll cooperate with its original intended purpose."
Once again, he wasn't going to waste his time arguing with her by trying to say that he would have left the money untouched. He didn't need her to believe anything he said except that he'd save her money for Noah. "I will absolutely do that."
"I know you will."
-------------------------------
Well, well, well. What do we have here? Proof that Meredith cared at one time? Please ignore any financial inaccuracies, I tried my best. Aaaaand, onward to the air show. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 49
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gemini-sensei · 6 months
Text
Poly!Miguel Diaz x Chubby!Reader x Hawk Moskowitz
Kinktober Day 18: Breeding Kink
CW: public sex, semi-rough sex,
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What started as an innocent comment about a cute baby at the mall had quickly and suddenly become so much more as Reader found herself holding herself up against a dressing room mirror. One of her boyfriends was behind her, holding her hips at the perfect angle so he could piston his cock into her cunt. He grunted behind her as she watched her other boyfriend pump his cock in the reflection of the mirror.
"Our baby is gonna be a lot cuter," Hawk mumbled in her ear.
She held back a moan as she knew what that meant. She was about to get bred in the middle of the mall, in a dingy little dressing room that barely fit the three of them inside. Her cunt walls clenched at the mere suggestion, making Hawk chuckle under his breath.
"Dirty girl," he muttered, still pounding her ass. They were lucky the thunderous claps of his hips meeting her ass were drowned out by the generic pop music playing over their speakers. "You love that I'm fucking this pussy raw, don't you? In a place someone could find us so easily, too."
She nodded, doing everything to keep herself quiet except slapping her hands over her face because she needed them braced against the mirror. They'd stayed glued there since he pushed her to bend forward after stripping herself of the dress she'd been trying on. It was beautiful but perhaps too flattering for her boyfriends to contain their excitement any longer. She let out a strangled moan from the back of her throat as she watched Miguel in the mirror.
He was sitting on the little bench, relaxed against the wall as he languidly pumped his cock, patiently waiting for his turn with her. His eyes were focused on her body, watching the way Hawk made her tits bounce out of her bra and her belly jiggled with every impact of his hips against her rear. He was practically hypnotized by her figure but aware enough to stop himself from coming too soon, edging himself until it was time for him to come.
"You wanted this, didn't you?" Hawk grunted, hands sliding up to hold onto Reader's waist. He grabbed on tightly and pulled her back into his thrusts, making him hit the special spot deep inside her a lot harder. He watched her eyes roll up in the mirror and smirked. "You wanted to get this pretty cunt bred in public, didn't you?"
She slurred a response, falling into a pit of pure pleasure as he repeatedly hit that spot. In the end, she nodded despite it having never been a thought until about ten minutes ago.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he groaned, speeding up his movements. "I'm gonna come. Gonna come in this wet, needy cunt and put a baby in you."
"Please," she tried to whisper. As the pleasure rose, tears brimmed her eyes and she was beginning to see the end in sight - except she knew better in the depth of her mind. One orgasm wasn't going to be enough and she was hardly done. "Please, come inside me. Get me pregnant, Eli."
"I'm gonna, don't worry, beautiful- oh fuck," he seethed, trying to remember they could very well get caught. The last thing he wanted was some store employee using a master key to get into the dressing room and see him balls-deep in his girlfriend, promising to get her pregnant. "Fucking take it."
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into his last, hard thrust, holding her against him as he began unloading into her tight cunt. As soon as the first rope splashed against her cervix, he pressed on her clit and started drawing circles onto it, making her come with him in a matter of seconds.
Now she slapped a hand over her mouth as she moaned, unable to hold them back any longer. Her eyes rolled up as she shook in his hold, hearing his voice as he muttered sweet nothings into her ear but she couldn't listen to what he was saying. It felt too nice.
Reader only came back to earth as he was pulling out of her, panting hard as she relied on the mirror affixed to the wall to hold her up. Her legs were shaking, a little bit of cum leaking out of her cunt and creeping down her thigh sending a shiver up her spine. As she assessed herself in the mirror, her lips swollen from biting them so hard, she saw Miguel stand up with his angry cock still in hand.
It was bright red at the tip and leaking pre everywhere, making sure she saw it as he came closer until he stood behind her. Hawk held one of her hips and pressed his other hand against her back, gently guiding her into presenting her used, creamy cunt to their boyfriend.
"She's all yours, man," Hawk chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.
Miguel ran a thumb along her folds before pulling them apart to take a look at her sweet pussy. He licked his lips and pushed his thumb in, making her gasp before pulling it out and putting it in his mouth. The mixed cum of both his partners exploded in his mouth and he moaned, pulling his thumb from his mouth with an audible, wet pop.
"Taste so good, mi amor," he complimented, rubbing her bare ass for a moment. Then he led his tip to her entrance and teased her by rubbing it through her folds. "Ready for more?"
She nodded desperately. "Yes, yes. I'm always ready for you, Miggy."
"Good," he said and pushed into her. In one thrust, he buried the entirety of his thick cock in her velvet walls, tipping his head back and groaning from the back of his throat. Then his head was pulled to the side, a hand in his curly hair, and a hard kiss was smacked against his lips.
Hawk didn't want them to get caught in all seriousness and knew they were pushing their luck the longer they stayed there. So he decided to keep Miguel, who could never be quiet, well, quiet. He ate up his boyfriend's moans and the kiss kickstarted Miguel's softer yet still firm thrusts into Reader.
She took her lower lip in between her teeth again knowing she was in for another ride. Her sensitive cunt was already clenching up and they all knew she'd have at least one more orgasm before it was over with. They all hoped it would be in their greatest interest though because they weren't just doing this for fun. Reader knew her boyfriends were one hundred percent serious when it came to breeding her fat cunt, and she couldn't be more excited about it.
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llamagoddessofficial · 3 months
Note
Bad Sanses with the “who hurt you” trope?
Horror: His big arms are walls against the outside world. He pulls you in close, nothing can reach you. He holds you with a love older than blood, a love that asks for nothing in return - you feel the words through his great chest rather than hearing them. You aren't sure if he's touching your hair to comfort you, or to stop himself from quivering with rage. Perhaps it's both. He smells like a food you didn't know you were craving, he sounds like a home that's waiting for you, and he feels like somewhere you can sleep.
He absorbs the scents on you like a bloodhound. Asking who did it was redundant. If he ever sees them, he will know.
Dust: The cuts to your body are amateur, ragged, as if someone took a hacksaw to his favourite porcelain doll. Where did his gloves go? One hand on your back, one cupping your face. The proximity shuts your mouth. You're close enough to feel how he's trying to control his breathing; from within the shadows under his hood, you see his eyelights, the anger pooling within them. Dust's words are so rare, they're soft but something frightening is following when he asks, lightning without thunder. Death by a thousand cuts? No. Just from holding his gaze, you know that only a thousand cuts won't be enough to satisfy his thirst for revenge.
Killer: He doesn't speak. He doesn't ask. He places a loving kiss to your temple, as if to assure you there's still something of your silly jester left in the leaking wraith before you. But he knows better than to be close to the thing he loves most when he doesn't want to smile anymore. The mask is missing, there's few things more terrifying than Killer without words, emptiness where the face once was. Was it all an act? No one knows. Not even Killer.
... You might expect the others to intervene when he's leaving. But they merely step aside, even Nightmare dares not stand in the way of Killer's hunt. They only ever laugh because they know he wants them to. Right now, they don't have that right.
Nightmare: He holds your chin. He's gentle - he always is with you. You thought he'd rage like an animal, command you to tell him who did this, as shadows choked you from the inside out.
You forget that there's no one who could feel your fear as intimately as he does. He's tasted your terror, your pain, the ache of the bruises and the sting of the cuts, the salt of your tears and the ice of the chills. He knows. He understands. He touches his forehead to yours, it's alright. You can fall apart, he's here, there's no shame, there's nothing he hasn't seen a hundred times before. Just let go. Let it all out. You can't drown in this sea, dear; not when he is the water.
There will be time for fury later. For now, the king needs to tend to his love.
...
Error: Will you tell him who did it? You can feel his rage, it's splitting the air around you, lines between realities are shimmering like hot oil. Whoever did this will suffer in a way that a mortal mind cannot comprehend. He'll peel them apart like crumbling sheets of wet pastry. Could you do that to someone? Could you knowingly sentence them to a pain that doesn't yet have a name? Perhaps you could talk him down from it, soothe his fury. But is that really what you want to do, when you're so tired?
The choice is yours. Just know that this is one web that cannot be undone.
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honey-and-bears · 4 months
Text
Closet Shenanigans
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Summary: After failing to successfully get past wards on a very valuable chest, Astarion and Tav set off just a few alarms and decide to try and out run the guards chasing them, that is until Astarion quickly pulls Tav in the only hiding spot he could find.
A cramped and cold castle closet.
Tags: pure fluff, neck kisses, rough kisses, teeny bit of fang play but that's about it, sfw!! And wc is 1.7k
A/N this man has me in a chokehold so badly right now 😩 but i just wanted to write smth that has been in my brain for a good minute, so enjoy 💕
Rules, Requests, and More!
“ASTARION,” Tav yelled over her shoulder, her lungs burned as they took a sharp turn around a corner. Her boots slid against the velvet carpet they trampled during their escape. 
Tav let out a small yelp as she couldn’t gain traction on the soft carpet and quickly threw out her arms to catch herself. Tav lets out a hiss from her arms scraped against the carpet, but she knew she had to ignore the aching pain from her wrists and keep running. 
The echoes of impending trouble, which sounded a lot like heavy armor clanking together, bounced off the stone walls and drowned out the duo’s gasps for breaths. “YOU–” gasp “–SAID THAT–” wheeze “THIS WAS GONNA BE A STEALTH MISSION.”
“I KNOW,” Astarion yelled after her. “IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE.”
Her legs felt like they were on fire as beads of sweat slowly rolled down Tav’s forehead. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOOD AT PICKING LOCKS,” she wheezed, wiping her brow as they made their way down a large set of stairs. 
As they tried not to slip down the stairs, the clanking of heavy armor became thunderous, easily dwarfing the sound of her pounding heart, Tav heard the shouts of the guards telling them to stop running.
“I AM TAV,” Astarion said, running alongside her now, his normally calm and rich voice now breathless and stressed. “But how was I supposed to know that the chest would have more than three spells protecting it?” He growled through gritted teeth, making Tav spare a glance toward the vampire. 
His usual well-swept-back hair was now plastered against his forehead, causing him to brush away the few strands that fell in his eyes. Astarion’s face was a beet red that Tav would normally find delicious but she could see that it was all from exhaustion and boiling anger.
She felt bad for yelling at him like this, Tav knew it wasn’t his fault, but from the stress and fear from running for her life, she couldn’t help but lash out. Her eyes slid away from Astarion and back to the hallway, Tav could sense that they were getting close to where the others were waiting for them outside.
Relief began to flood Tav’s system as she could see the last stairwell that led toward one of several castle exits. As she threw out her hand to keep herself balanced when rushing down the stairs, a tight grip wrapped around her wrist yanked her off her path with a yelp.
A hand then covered Tav’s mouth as she let out a sharp yelp. Instinctively, Tav tried to squirm from the tight grasp, trying to claw at the hand that had slid across her waist to bring her taught against a torso. 
“Quiet now darling,” Astarion murmured in her ear as he pulled her backward, causing her to stumble over her feet before he moved the hand that was clamped over her mouth downwards. Tav heard a distinctive click as Astarion loosened his tight grip. “You wouldn’t want us to be caught now?”
Tav ignored the way his low rich voice sent shivers down her spine as she began to look around her new surroundings. Tav’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the musty smell around her confused her deeply as she tried to shift around.
“Astarion,” she whispered, holding up an arm, extending it slowly only to be quickly met by a rough stone wall. “Are we seriously hiding in a closet?”
“Did you want to be caught?”
“Well, no,” Tav starts, dropping her arm to her side as she shifts from foot to foot, finding that her back brushed against his chest with every movement. “But I would have appreciated a bit more room.”
“Sorry darling” the vampire hummed quietly, shuffling in place while trying his hardest not to press against Tav. “But this was unfortunately the best I could find.”
Blush began to rise to Tav’s cheeks as she could feel every rise and fall of his chest against her back, still heaving from their long run. His hands hovered around her hips and left feather-light touches with each small movement either of them made. 
Her pounding heart felt like it was echoing in the small closet as she felt Astarion’s hot breath against the back of her neck. A shiver ran through Tav as they heard the sound of heavy boots and clanking armor come around the corner where the closet was.
Silently Tav prayed to keep the tiny closest unnoticeable as the guards stopped seemingly right in front of the large oak door. Panic began to sink its claws deep into Tav’s ribs, her breath quickened as she heard the near-silent mutters of the guards.
Leaning toward the door, Tav pressed her ear against the cold wooden door. To her, the guard’s conversation sounded just like faint whispers, but Tav hoped with every fiber of her being that they would leave soon.
She would hate to be stuck in the closet with Astarion almost pressed against her any longer. 
And speaking of whom, a shiver runs through Tav as Astarion’s feather-light touches run across her waist. Slowly, he wrapped his fingers around each side of her hips and gently leaned over her. 
Quietly to not alert the guards only a mere few feet from the door, Tav shuffles her weight from foot to foot in hopes that Astarion gets the message. Instead of getting the quit while you’re ahead, all Astarion does is softly hum in amusement as he presses his front against her to place a gentle kiss on Tav’s neck.
Tav’s head began to swim, her focus on the guards slipping as Astarion pressed more feather-light kisses against her neck. A small squeak left Tav as Astarion pressed a much harsher kiss below her ear. Slapping a hand to her mouth, Tav froze as she felt her face flush with color.
Swallowing harshly, she tried to hear if the guards had noticed her slip-up, but all she could get was “They couldn’t have gotten so far, we shall have every guard looking for them.”
Astarion left a kiss right behind her ear, earning him a jab to the side and a hiss of his name. “They’re going t-to find us,” Tav said lowly, hoping only his ears picked it up. “Assstarion,” she quietly moaned as he chuckled lowly and nibbled on her ear.
Warmth began to pool in Tav’s gut as one of Astarion’s hands moved to tuck a few fallen strands behind her ear. Effortlessly, he then moved to pull down the collar of her tunic to press his face into her neck and sighed. Wriggling in his tight grasp, Tav moved her hand to the side of his head, her fingers sunk into the silky soft curls.
She meant to pull his head away, but Tav had just curled her hand into a fist as Astarion dragged the very tips of his long fangs across her shoulder. Slowly he inched up her neck making Tav’s head swim as she fought to stay quiet.
The guards had stopped muttering sometime ago, but Tav could still barely sense their presence from outside the door. Her body felt like it was on fire as Astarion scraped his fangs back down her neck, no doubt leaving angry red marks that she’ll have to remember to cover up later. With a hum, his soft lips return to her fiery skin and Tav silently wishes he would never stop, or at least pick this up when they weren’t in the middle of an escape.
Gritting her teeth, a long hiss left Tav’s throat as Astarion dug his fang into her soft skin. It wasn’t deep enough to draw blood but Tav knew she’d have to cover it up when they got back to camp. She tugged harshly at Astarion’s curls before standing upright again.
“Be careful love,” he whispered in her ear, the hand wrapped around her waist playing with the edges of her tunic. “I would hate for us to be caught.” 
“Y-You ass,” Tav replied, swallowing down a moan as he pressed a small kiss to the deep bruise on her neck. “This is not the time.”
“I beg to differ,” Astarion hummed as he pulled Tav even closer to him, enjoying the heat that radiated off of her. Tav opened her mouth to say a quiet retort but she quickly shut her mouth with an audible click as she realized that the guards had begun to walk off. The crunching of their heavy boots became louder and louder, Tav’s hand slipped from Astarion’s soft hair and slid over the vampire’s cold hand on her wait as the guards shuffled past them.
With the guards now gone, all the anxiety left her body in waves as she let out a long groan in relief as Astarion squeezed her hand in reassurance. Wrapping a hand around the cool doorknob, Tav slowly let the closet door swing open as Astarion’s hand slipped from hers and dropped them to his side.
“The coast seems to be clear,” Tav whispered as she slinked out of the closet, her ears intently listening for any signs of danger while her hand hovered over one of her daggers. “Though they will no doubt have all the exits heavily guarded.”
“Then we must be extra cautious,” Astarion replied smoothly, slipping out of the small closet and closing the door silently behind them.
“You’re one to talk about being cautious,” Tav frowned, folding her arms across her chest as she glared at the now smirking vampire. “You nearly gave us away!”
“Hmmm maybe,” Astarion hummed, his eyes glinting in the torch-lit hallway. “But it sounded like you enjoyed it.”
Tav moved her hands to her hips as blush crept up to her face, knowing that she didn’t look half as intimidating as she had hoped. Taking a few steps to close the small gap, Tav looked up into Astarion’s blood-red eyes before smacking him on his shoulder. 
“Now darling,” Astarion chuckled, grabbing the hand that had just smacked him and pulled Tav to his chest. “How about we start heading back to the others?”
“Best idea you’ve had all day, love,” Tav agreed before planting a small kiss on his lips.
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horrorhot-line · 11 months
Text
brontide
(n). the low rumble of distant thunder
➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/female! reader
➵ word count: 3.2k
➵ genre: smut, nsfw
➵ warnings: unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, hate sex, rough sex, overstimulation.
➵ summary: studying for exams is never easy. add kusuke into the mix and it’s a whole different ball game. alternatively; saiki and you spend the day studying in your dorm room until kusuke drops by unannounced to see you. saiki is not happy.
➵ masterlist  (requests are open)
➵ previous part - quell
I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM
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before you read:
‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader.’
‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’
“saiki talking without moving his mouth.”
“saiki talking using his mouth.”
notes: i’m still here guys don’t worry, i just won’t be posting multiple times a week like i did before cause of work, i saw this request, well there were two and i thought i’d post this while i still had inspo, as always, hope you enjoy!
this oneshot was requested here and here.
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"No, you don't understand," Apart from losing your mind, there was little you could do when the month of June came around. "Kusuo, I have SPOTS!" Exam season- your number one enemy when it came to skin.
You stared at the handheld mirror, shifting your face from left to right to look at the cluster of angry red pimples drowning your forehead. You swore you could make out constellations from them.
You exhaled through your nose and held back the need to sigh yet again; all the while, Saiki sat comfortably on your bed as he highlighted notes in his textbook. You resisted the urge to grab your phone and order more skincare off of tik tok to solve your predicament, instead opting to grab your own textbook before it fell off the edge of the bed.
The stress alone weighing you down was enough to motivate you to take a walk, but Saiki being around was the only thing keeping you rooted. "It'll clear up by itself," Saiki stated matter of factly, to which you responded by rolling your eyes. "I know that- but what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"
Saiki finally looked up, his blue highlighter pausing centimetres away from the page as he stared at you through his eyebrows. "Study." The fear of spreading the spots was the only thing stopping you from slapping your hand to your forehead.
You rubbed your eyes and grabbed a pen to make flashcards- and an hour passed by in no time.
Your cramming session paused when the doorbell went off. You, knowing Saiki and yourself were the only people home for the weekend, meant that one out of the two of you would have to get the door. You looked up at the psychic with glassy eyes, blinking through the blurriness that came with studying too hard.
He gave you one look before silently going back to memorising the flashcards you had made earlier. You sighed, knowing full well it would be you answering the door. A second chime rang through the house, and your shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine. I'll get it." You announced before slipping off the bed and stuffing your feet into your fluffy slippers.
You quickly walked through the house, shouting, "I'm coming!" when the doorbell rang yet again. You grabbed the keys from your jacket on the coat rack and shoved them in the lock before pulling the handle down. When you opened the door to reveal the person who came calling, you realised it was none other than Kusuke—Saiki's older brother.
You raised an eyebrow at the man in front of you, feeling nothing but annoyance that he had shown up unannounced to your dorm room. Why had he not tried Saiki's room first? "What are you doing here?" Kusuke only gave you a small smile, one that meant he had anything but pure intentions. He held up the bag he was holding in front of you.
"I come bearing gifts." On closer inspection, you realised it was books- textbooks. "Are those...?" You trailed off, recognising the names on the spine of the books. "It's to help you on your finals," Kusuke said matter of factly, and all you could do was stare at the bag, wondering how he had managed to get his hands on them when even you couldn't.
You didn't get a chance to utter a word of thanks- Saiki appeared behind you, pulling you back with a hand on your waist. You gazed up at him and watched as Saiki glared at his older brother, his laid-back demeanour from before completely gone.
'I knew it.'
'Woah, how'd you get here.'
'I teleported.'
'Go figure.'
"Get out." Was all Saiki said, not even greeting Kusuke as he stood in front of you. You stared at the back of his head, the pink engulfing most of your vision, before you stepped to the side to gaze over his shoulder at Kusuke.
The blonde only gave his brother a closed-eyed smile, one that you knew wasn't sincere. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" Saiki only narrowed his eyes at his older brother, and the two started a staring contest. “No.” You could only run your hand through your hair in exasperation, knowing full well that neither of them would yield and look away first.
You stepped past Saiki, banking on the fact that Saiki would read your thoughts- Kusuke would not leave; he would camp outside your dorm room door until you let him in. So you put your hand on top of Saiki's, which was on the door handle, softly taking it off before letting the blonde genius in with a sigh.
"Do you want tea- coffee?"
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You leaned forward to take a sip of your coffee awkwardly. You gazed up from the mug's rim and observed the situation before you. Saiki and Kusuke sat parallel to each other while you sat at the end of the dining table in the small of your kitchen.
They stared each other down, and all you could think was how goddamn quiet it was, save for your occasional sipping. The tension in the room was so thick you swore you could cut it with a knife. One thing that never changed from high school was that Saiki still resented his brother.
You had tried to make small talk, but the conversation had quickly died out, and the two brothers decided to lock eyes for an incredibly long period. You wished to any higher power that would listen- that this was not how you were fated to spend the rest of your night.
The sipping of your coffee halted when you realised you had drank all of it, and with yet another sigh, you got up from your seat- only for both Saiki brothers to look over at you. "Anyone want a refill?" You asked, holding up your empty mug.
You felt uneasy with the sickly sweet smile Kusuke sent your way. You gave him a strained one in response, feeling awkward yet again under his sharp gaze. "I'd love more coffee, thank you." You looked to Saiki, the corners of your lips stretching in sincerity as if to ask him the same question. Saiki only shook his head to say no.
With that, you briskly made your way to the cabinets on the far left of the kitchen. You put on the coffee machine, the whirring doing well to fill the silence from before. You hummed to yourself as you rinsed the cups before setting them on the kitchen counter.
Getting the sugar was always the hardest part of making any warm brew. Saiki had a habit of putting it on the higher shelf; you always wondered why- since you were sure he knew you weren't tall enough to reach it. It was because he liked it when you called for him to help you.
With one hand on the lower shelf, you got on your tip toes and blindly shuffled your hand around so you could feel for the sugar. When you felt someone else's body heat very close to yours- on your back, you assumed it was Saiki coming to your rescue yet again, like he always did. Your eyes trailed to the hand that reached higher than yours to grab the sugar, and you felt a hand grab your hip.
That was when you heard one of the mugs you had set down earlier- shatter, the distant sound of thunder accompanying it, and you whipped your head around to be faced with someone's chest. Saiki hadn't come to help you; you realised as you slowly looked up at his older brother. It was Kusuke that had decided to get the sugar for you.
You recoiled from his touch on instinct, stepping to the side, away from the broken ceramic that had landed on the kitchen tile. You looked to Saiki, whose face was stone cold as he stood up from his seat slowly.
"Get out," Saiki said, his voice icy. All you could do was gulp, too scared to say anything. You had never seen Saiki look so pissed off before. "Come now, baby brother. I was just trying to help." Kusuke reasoned- his shit-eating grin still on his face. "You come uninvited and put your hands on what's mine. I won't say it again. Get. Out."
You were sure Kusuke realised that the young psychic wasn't in the mood for his games today, considering you watched his smile falter. "Alright, Alright." Kusuke lifted his hands as if to admit defeat and left soon after that.
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It had all happened so fast. You had no idea how you had ended up pressed against your dorm's door. Well- you did, but you still had trouble wrapping your head around it.
After Kusuke left, with Saiki practically dragging him by the collar and kicking him out the door, you hot on their heels- he had locked the door to make sure his older brother wouldn't get back in. He then turned to you, his expression cold as he watched you.
All you could do was gaze up at him silently, feeling small as Saiki practically towered over you. Curse you for finding him hot when he was angry. Why did he have to look so goddamn attractive when he was glaring down at you.
You parted your lips to speak but didn't even get a chance to say one word.
Your vision went blurry, and you let out an "Oomph!" when your body made contact with your front door. You inhaled sharply when you felt Saiki's hand lift your shirt before resting his hand on your hip. Curse you for being so sensitive to his touch.
"Why did you let him in?" Saiki asked, bending his head down so it was right next to your ear, and it took everything in you to hold in any sounds when you felt his hot breath fanning the side of your neck. "You know why." You tried to keep your voice steady.
You couldn't lie; you were turned on- and you were sure Saiki knew as well. He pressed his hips into you, and you had to brace yourself when you felt how hard he was through his pants.
Saiki's hand found purchase on your neck, he gave it a light squeeze, and you clenched your jaw. You squeezed your legs, wishing the shorts you were wearing weren't there. You wanted to feel him, feel his skin on yours.
"You let him touch you." A gasp escaped your mouth when he pushed you forward and trapped you against the door with his body. Your head was turned to the side; your cheek felt cold against the cool surface of your door next to your hands. "I thought it was you, that's wh-" You didn't get to finish your sentence; Saiki brought his hand up to cover your mouth.
You had to strain your neck to look at him, wondering what had gotten into him. Saiki's eyebrows were furrowed, and you watched as he clenched his jaw. That was when you felt his free hand make its way under your top. Your thighs clenched on instinct; his hands felt so warm. All you could do was squirm as Saiki traced circles into your skin.
You exhaled through your nose, trying not to struggle as he slowly made his way to your shorts. A muffled moan left your lips when his hand covered your pussy; you could tell he was teasing you on purpose. "Look how wet you are. Is that for him? For Kusuke?" All you could do was shake your head at the notion. You knew, and so did Saiki, that it was all for him. So why ask? A moment of weakness on his side.
You squeezed your eye shut when he rubbed slow circles around your clit. This was torture. You wanted him- needed him inside you, and yet here he was, taking his time. He pulled his hand out of your shorts abruptly, and all you could do was moan in protest at the loss of warmth.
He brought his hand up to your eye level. "You're dripping," Saiki stated, pulling his fingers apart so you could see the clear strings of arousal clinging to his fingers. "I've barely touched you, y/n." You closed your eyes in embarrassment. Damn him and his ability to turn you on so easily.
Saiki grabbed your hand roughly and dragged you to the kitchen. You had no idea what he had in mind. You realised when he pushed you in front of the kitchen counter, his hips going back to pressing against your ass. "Grab the sugar, y/n." Was he trying to rewrite what Kusuke did?
You didn't need to be told twice- the cabinet was already open, so all you had to do was try and reach for it. Easier said than done, considering it was still on the top shelf. You stood on your tip toes, struggling.
When you heard shuffling from behind you and the feeling of your shorts sliding down your thighs, you expected him to shove his dick inside you. What you didn't see coming was him just putting his dick between your legs. Your arousal made it easy for him to move against your pussy. "Don't make me repeat myself; get the sugar."
Now he was just being cruel; how were you supposed to focus with his dick so close to you? You raised your arm yet again to try and grab the sugar with no luck.
"Squeeze your legs together." You could only do as you were told, not wanting to piss him off even more. Every time he rocked his hips back and forth, his tip dragged against your clit. Saiki's breathing sped up, and all you could do was moan. You squirmed against him, wanting him to stop teasing you.
"Stop struggling." Saiki's hand wrapped around your front and pressed his body against yours to limit your movements. His hand reached between your bodies, and every now and then, he'd slip the tip in. You cried out as he edged you, stopping when he knew you were close to cumming- the sugar long forgotten.
Saiki's lips brushed against the side of your neck, his hand still covering your mouth. He pulled his tip out, going back to teasing your clit, and that was it. You couldn't hold back anymore, feeling the familiar sensation of all your muscles clenching as you ended up cumming.
Saiki didn't let you ride out your high, his hand releasing its hold around your mouth so he could grip your hips, shoving his dick inside you in one go. You gasped, crying out at the feeling of being so full. He didn't wait for you to get used to him like he usually would, setting a brutal pace as he slammed his dick into you over and over again.
Tears pricked the side of your eyes, finding it hard to breathe. Saiki grunted, one hand letting go of your hips so he could cup your tits underneath your shirt. When you used your free arm to reach out behind you, placing your palm on his thigh to try and slow his sharp thrusts, he grabbed your wrist, pinning it against on the kitchen counter.
"You're mine," Saiki stated, dragging your body back with his before placing his other hand to make you bend forward. He folded the arm you used to try and stop him behind your back and continued pounding into you. "Take it. Take it," You moaned as he kicked your legs further apart before speeding up.
He slowed down, rolling his hips into you, hitting your cervix every time he did, and you whimpered. He let go of your hip to grab your other arm, stretching them behind you and using them as leverage to fuck you. You cried out his name because that was all you could do.
Without warning, he let go of your arm so he could use his free hand to wrap it around your neck, and forced you to stand straight. With his dick still inside you, he lifted you up with ease and carried you to your bedroom.
Using telekinesis, he opened the door and placed all the textbooks and pens on your that were on your bed onto your desk before pushing you forward so you fell on the bed. "Turn around, y/n. We're not done." You listened to his instructions, turning your spent body to face him.
Saiki placed a knee on the bed, making his way toward you as he gripped the bottom of his shirt before raising it above his head to take it off. He did the same with your top, discarding it on the floor before grabbing your ankle to pull you to him.
Saiki didn't give you a chance to protest (not that you would), lining himself up with your pussy before pushing himself back in. He bent down so all his weight was on you, placing his head next to yours on the bed as he kept thrusting into you.
He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you down so you couldn't leave. You scratched at Saiki's back, unable to do anything else but moan at his fast pace. "I'm close. I'm gonna cum." You clenched your eyes shut, overstimulated. You could feel him in your gut, and it didn't help that he was trying to go as fast and deep as possible.
Saiki pinned your wrist against the bed, bringing his other hand up to cover your mouth. The sound of his hips slapping into yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit, it was all too much. You came yet again, your thighs clenching at the feeling, but that didn't stop him.
He sped up, as if that was possible, fucking you until you were a mess and could barely think. "Say my name. Who do you belong to?" His hand left your mouth, and you threw your head back, pain and pleasure mixing into one. "You! I belong to you!" His name was all you could repeat, your back arching off the bed when you felt yourself cumming again.
Saiki grunted, trying to get as deep as he could. He filled you up with his cum, still thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you. "Cumming, cumming, cumming!" Saiki rolled his hips into yours slowly, making sure his cum was deep inside you.
You panted, feeling Saiki relax as he put all his weight onto you. All that could be heard was the sound of your breaths. You ran your free hand through his soft pink hair, "So this is what happens when you get jealous?"
"Shut up."
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bonus:
"Hey, Kusuo- what do we do with the textbooks?" You asked, holding up the bag on the kitchen table that Kusuke left for you. Saiki regarded it with one look, of disgust, and turned away from you. "Throw it away."
You furrowed your eyebrows at his remark, "But they'll help with the exams!" Saiki looked over his shoulder before turning back yet again so he could pay attention to the ramen he was cooking for you on the stove.
"I don't care. It's from him. Throw it."
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next part - cause for celebration (coming soon!)
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bloompompom · 4 months
Text
Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT
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for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...
✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only
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Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did. 
If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor. 
“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day. 
The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough. 
The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target. 
The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation. 
“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up. 
You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.
He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”
If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it. 
Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride. 
The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom. 
You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye. 
It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?
Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.
In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.
“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”
“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.
Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?” 
“That’s you, not me.” 
“Only because of you.”
Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.
“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.
Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”
“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.
She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth. 
Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove. 
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After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder. 
But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up. 
He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week. 
So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie. 
“Hey.”
Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”
He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation. 
You bristled. “What do you want?”
He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”
“No, you can’t.”
Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”
You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.
“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed. 
“Who said anything about olives?”
It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.
You sidestepped him to leave. 
Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention.  He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa. 
“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”
Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it. 
“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”
That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival. 
“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”
You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half. 
“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”
On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.
What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined. 
Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.
Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace. 
“How did you know this was up here?” you asked. 
“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”
The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.
“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”
As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.
You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered. 
“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.
Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.
You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.
You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside. 
The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches. 
You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes. 
After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago. 
Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.
What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore. 
Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.
Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.
Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him. 
Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice. 
Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss. 
You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.
You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze? 
Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?
Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you. 
It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?
“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”
You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”
You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.
“Something like that.”
If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore. 
Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t. 
“I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You felt his words vibrate against your ear. 
“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”
Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat. 
You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”
You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well. 
“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”
He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is. 
You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap. 
“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.
Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”
He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”
You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.
“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”
“Still do,” you muttered. 
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly? 
No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this. 
A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”
Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.
You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self. 
The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing. 
At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did. 
“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.
When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it. 
Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his. 
Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.
You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once. 
Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him. 
When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy. 
He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.
Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples. 
He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.
His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling. 
Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it. 
Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.
You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended. 
His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye. 
“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”
Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.
“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.
“You asked.”
You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too. 
You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you. 
You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.
The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you. 
You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss. 
Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.
A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan. 
“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.
It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway. 
Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him. 
He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements. 
Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.
Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.
Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.
With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination. 
You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.
“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.
Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.
You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft. 
Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half. 
You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about. 
More. You needed more.
You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you. 
You grabbed his wrist. 
“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”
A biting smile crossed Eren’s face. 
“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”
You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.
You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”
You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.
He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.
“You’re probably right,” he said casually. 
Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.
You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.
But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.
“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.
Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it. 
He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms. 
He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.
You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength. 
You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it. 
Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.
Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck. 
“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.
You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm. 
You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek. 
“I can’t hear you.”
He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant. 
You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him. 
“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it. 
You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.
Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.
Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.
“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”
The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit 
“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”
The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you. 
Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”
Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.
“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”
“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care. 
Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.
His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard. 
If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.
You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.
Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”
“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.
You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”
There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.
“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”
Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once. 
There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”
“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”
You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”
He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”
You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.
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as always, thank you for reading ♡
708 notes · View notes
byersbootyshorts · 1 year
Text
Not So Smart Now (S.R.)
Spencer’s intelligence and cocky attitude has always infuriated you. So, when given the chance, you revel in putting him in his place.
Word Count: 2,882
EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI!!
Warnings: sub!s7!Spencer, dom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, hate sex, dumbification, slapping, degradation, alcohol consumption, language
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cocky Spencer is so yummy I wanna rip him apart
This case had been rough. The unsub had slipped through your fingers again and again and each time it seemed like he slipped further away. You forced your eyes to focus as you combed through a plethora of files, trying desperately to find something that could link the unsub to his victims. You sipped your coffee like your life depended on it, but not even the caffeine could help you find what you were missing. Morgan was sitting opposite you and he sighed in frustration. Emily paced back and forth going through the case in her head. You were all stumped.
You looked up at the investigation board, trying to give your eyes a rest from the tiny black letters they’d been staring at. You scanned the photos of the crime scenes. All of the women were found dead in their backyard. Drowned in the clean blue waters of their outdoor pools. You raised a brow, your eyes flicking frantically between the photos. The clean… blue… CLEAN!
“Oh my God, that’s it!” you exclaimed, springing out of your chair in excitement. Emily and Morgan looked at you with expectant expressions.
“What?” Emily asked after you stared in awe at what you’d missed for so long.
“All the pools, they were-,” you began, but just as you were about to explain your theory, Spencer burst through the door, not even aware that you were revealing a crucial part of the case, and began rambling.
“Guys, all the pools were cleaned the day each victim was killed. There wasn’t so much as a leaf or a bug sitting on the surface of the water. So, I checked, and they all hired the same pool cleaner.”
Spencer set a file down on the table that contained a picture of the guy you assumed was the unsub that had been evading you for so long. But you couldn’t even feel relief that you’d finally found him. Because you didn’t find him. Well, you would’ve if Spencer ‘boy genius’ Reid hadn’t of found him first.
The team rifled through photos and records of the unsub for a few minutes before Morgan finally asked you, “Oh, what was it you figured out?”
You glanced over at Spencer with a look that could kill before answering, “It doesn’t matter now. I think Spencer’s got it all covered.” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you tried your best to fake a pleasant tone. You plastered a false smile on your face and Morgan shrugged, looking back down at the pages on the table.
You tried to follow suit, picking up a page printed with the guy’s phone records. You knew the only thing on your mind should be figuring out how to find this son of a bitch. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were literally seconds away from saying exactly what Spencer said before he stormed in and stole your thunder. He did it all the time. And you hated him for it.
The case was solved and the unsub was found. As always, the team congratulated Spencer on figuring it all out. And you allowed them to. One thing didn’t want to do was make a fuss and say you solved it too. But if he smiled that stupid, cocky smile one more time, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain your anger. And sure enough, you couldn’t.
You had just touched down at Quantico. You walked with Emily and JJ to the bullpen to collect some things before leaving. Then, as always, you ended up standing around your desk chatting about the case.
“I don’t think I’ve ever drunk as much coffee in a 24 hour period than I did on that case,” Emily laughed.
“It was rough,” JJ sighed. “I’m glad we got him. I don’t know how many pools there are in Florida but if we hadn’t of caught him I’m sure he wouldn’t have run out of victims.”
You smiled. Finally this was something that would prove your intelligence to the group.
“Actually there’s one mill-,”
“There are one million, five hundred and ninety thousand pools in Florida.”
You turned around to glare at who’d interrupted you. Your eyes narrowed when you saw Spencer sitting at his desk. He hadn’t even looked up from his computer before he’d stolen your opportunity to be smart.
“Oh my God!” you shouted, your eyes widening in disbelief. Of course he had interrupted you again.
Spencer turned to face you at the sound of your raised voice. A puzzled expression spread across his face. He was clueless. He didn’t even know he was doing it.
You knew you should just let it slide and say, “Yeah, that’s correct,” or “That’s what I was going to say,” but you couldn’t this time. You were done putting up with him constantly undermining you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you said, almost laughing at just how much of an ignorant asshole he was.
“Huh?” Spencer grunted, getting up from his desk and walking towards the three of you.
“You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” you asked. You stepped forward so there were only inches between the two of you. Your eyes stared daggers into his.
Spencer shook his head in confusion, his breath wavering slightly. You pretended not to notice the blood rush from his face and down his neck towards… Nope. You weren’t thinking about that.
“You know what, just forget it,” you said, stepping away from him. “You’re not worth my time.” You grabbed your bag, stormed out of the building, got in your car, and sped home.
It had been about thirty minutes since you’d slammed your apartment door, grabbed a bottle of vodka from your cabinet and sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through random TV channels. You drank straight from the bottle, your mind reeling with hatred for Spencer. It was like he had some sort of radar that could sense when you were going to say something impressive. And when that radar went off, he had to come in and ruin everything. He was such a know-it-all. And maybe he did know it all, but he didn’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces all the time.
You took another swig from the bottle and sighed. You had no idea how you were going to face him the next day. Being on the team with him was becoming insufferable. You had to do something to stop yourself from wanting to punch him every time you saw him.
It was just past midnight, but you were still wide awake, when you heard a knock on your door. Your brow furrowed as you considered who it could be at this late hour. You set the bottle of vodka on the coffee table and went to unlock the door. When the door swung open your eyes darkened at the figure in front of you. It was Spencer.
“What is your problem with me?” he asked, not even bothering to say hello.
You let out an uncontrollable laugh of sheer anger at his utter obliviousness. The only reason he should be showing up at your door in the middle of the night was to apologise. And yet here he was, not even aware of what he’d done wrong.
“You are unbelievable,” you sighed, turning away from the door and walking back into your apartment. Spencer took that as an invitation to come in, so he stepped forward and shut the door behind him.
“No, seriously, why don’t you like me?” he insisted. “Because I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you that should make you act like this.”
Spencer’s voice raised and his tone became sharp. You couldn’t believe this. He was angry? He had no right to be angry with you.
“Well, Doctor Reid, maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are if you can’t figure out something that’s so painfully obvious,” you snapped.
“Enlighten me, then. Tell me why you hate me so much,” Spencer retorted.
“No,” you said. “If you can’t see what you’re doing wrong then I’m not telling you.”
“Tell me why you hate me and I’ll tell you why I hate you.”
You paused for a moment. You knew your feelings towards him were of hatred, but you had no idea he returned those feelings. Now you were curious
“I hate you because you can’t shut up for one second to let someone else say something smart for once,” you began hastily, desperate to know what he hated about you, but also relieved to get everything off your chest. “Everyone knows you’re a genius, Spencer. You don’t need to prove it all the damn time.”
“What, so you hate me because I’m smart?” Spencer questioned.
“No, I hate you because you don’t let anyone else be smart. I hate you because you get that stupid little grin on your face every time you say something smart.” You began walking towards him, slowly backing him against the wall. “I hate you because every time I see you I have to force myself not to slap that cocky grin right off your face.”
Spencer stayed silent for a moment. He was almost right up against the wall. Your face was so close to his you could feel his breath. You could also feel something else starting to grow in his pants.
“Well, don’t force yourself this time,” Spencer breathed.
“What?” you asked, confused.
“Hit me,” he said bluntly, his mouth widening into that familiar, infuriating grin.
“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you said, taking a step back.
“No, do it. Hit me,” he said, genuinely.
You gave him a hesitant look but he continued to smirk like he was the smartest man alive. You made up your mind. He was giving you the opportunity and you weren’t going to turn it down. You raised your hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. Spencer whined and his hand flew to his face. He rubbed the red mark that was appearing on his cheekbone but his eyes never left yours. And that stupid grin remained on his face.
“Just out of curiosity, is there anything you do like about me?”
You seriously considered his question. You tried to think of one thing you liked about him. It was harder than you thought. Until you remembered the way his breath hitched when you got near him.
“I like that when you look at me your dick gets hard,” you said calmy, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. “I like that I have the power over you to make you do that.” You traced your fingers over the red spot where your hand hit his cheek. “You might be a genius but you’re still just a man. You have needs.” With your other hand, you lightly touched the bulge in his pants. He swallowed but still his eyes remained locked on yours. “Your mind might be one of the greatest of our time, but your body is just like every other man’s. You say you hate me but your body’s telling me something very different. It’s pathetic.” You pushed him back again so he hit the wall. “I could lower your IQ one hundred points just by fucking you,” you whispered.
“Wanna bet?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.
Without hesitation you slammed your lips onto his. He whimpered as his head hit the wall behind him, but soon he melted into the kiss. You could feel his lips curl upwards against yours. He was fucking smiling. He was enjoying this. That only enraged you more. You pushed yourself away from him and glared at him.
“Come here,” you said, turning around and walking towards your bedroom. You escorted Spencer inside the dimly lit room and turned to face him again. You looked down at the ever-growing bulge in his pants and began unbuckling his belt in silence. He sighed when you pulled down his underwear.
“You know what? I excepted more from you, Doctor Reid,” you said finally, smirking down at his below average sized cock that was now fully exposed to you.
Spencer said nothing, but, for the first time, his eyes drifted away from yours.
“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not a bad thing,” you smiled, wrapping your hand around it. “That just means I can take it for longer.”
You picked up the pace of your hand and Spencer moaned quietly. His head fell to lean on your shoulder and he sucked a spot on your neck. Eventually, you lifted your hand from his dick and began unbuttoning his shirt. When you pulled his shirt off his arms you turned your mouth to his ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you dumb.”
You pushed him down onto the bed. He lay there while you undressed, taking in your figure. You climbed on top of him and his hands immediately travelled to your thighs. He stared up at you with that smart ass glint in his eye. He wouldn’t look like that for long.
You didn’t flinch as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Spencer squirmed slightly beneath you, trying his best to stifle a whimper.
“I- I know a ton of other facts about Florida, you know. Not just how many pools there are” he said, his smugness slowly draining from his body as you rode him.
“You won’t know them for long,” you smiled, alternating your pace between fast and slow. Your inconstant rhythm was torturing Spencer.
“It’s state flower is the orange blossom,” he said confidently. “And it’s the flattest US state.”
“Shut up,” you whispered, anger flaring up in you again. You wished you could tear his brain right out of his head.
“It’s also 65,758 square m-miles, making it the 22nd largest s-state,” he continued, his words slowly starting to slur.
You looked down at the egotistical smile that was still plastered on his face, despite his stuttering. “Shut up!” you said, raising your voice. You lifted your hand and slapped him again. Harder this time. The whimper that Spencer had been holding in since you started finally escaped his lips.
And, at last, he shut up. The only noise he made was the occasional whine every time you quickened your pace.
“You masochistic fuck,” you laughed, grabbing his shoulders as your thighs began to burn. “All I had to do was hit you again and you’re reduced to a whimpering mess.”
“Shit,” Spencer breathed. “I- I’m go-.” But he couldn’t even warn you before you felt his cum shoot inside of you.
“Not so smart now, huh Doc?” you said shakily. Your breathing was ragged but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t matter that Spencer was finished. You weren’t.
Spencer didn’t get time to recover from his high as you immediately began to pick up your pace again, grinding harder and harder as his cum seeped out between your legs.
“Why don’t you tell me another fact?” you taunted. He looked as though he couldn’t speak, never mind tell you a fact. “What about an easy one? What’s the population of Florida?” you asked.
“It’s, uh- I don’t-. Fuck, I don’t know,” he stuttered.
“Seems like I won the bet then,” you panted. His hips jerked up and you moaned at the sudden movement. Finally seeing Spencer a pathetic heap below you sent you over the edge. You came without a uttering a word. The sensation caused Spencer to shake beneath you as he came for the second time.
You rolled off him and sighed. Spencer’s chest moved rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath.
“Fuck,” he said under his breath, brushing his hands through his hair.
“What? Are you annoyed that I made you dumb?” you asked, your voice laced with patronization. He rolled his eyes at you and you turned onto your side so your face was close to his.
“You know, you never told me why you hate me,” you said, running your finger down his chest, making his stomach tense.
“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer mumbled, his face flushing slightly.
“Yes it does,” you argued. “I told you, so now you have to tell me.”
Spencer hesitated for a moment before he whispered, barely audibly, “I hate you because… Well, I-.”
“I can’t hear you,” you said, looking at him expectantly.
“I hate you because I’ve wanted you to do that to me since the day I met you,” he blurted out.
You chuckled, grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb. “Well, if you’d told me that when you met me then this could’ve happened a lot sooner.”
“You wanted this to happen?” Spencer asked, a smile forming on the corners of his mouth.
“I wanted to prove you’re not a genius all the time. The sex is just an added bonus,” you explained.
Spencer’s cocky grin appeared back on his face and in an instant you were reminded of how much you detested him.
“Oh, it’s a bonus?” Spencer smirked. “Does that mean you want to do it again?”
You scoffed at his confidence. “I hate you,” you groaned, as you climbed back on top of him, ready to leave him a dumb, pathetic mess once more.
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politemenacephd · 3 months
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Lost at Sea (+18)
💙 Merman!Miguel O'Hara X GN!Reader 💙
After your neglectful partner lets you nearly drown in a storm, you are rescued by an unexpected party: a merman named Miguel, who offers to help heal you. TW: Near drowning, possible thalassophobia, mentions of past emotionally abusive partner.
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💙 Contents: Monster/human relationship, Forbidden romance, Mutual pining, Size difference, Kissing and heavy petting, Cock warming, PinV sex, Underwater sex, Double penetration, Autoerotic asphyxiation, Creampie.
💙 Notes: Holy shit I got way too invested in this one lmao, enjoy
💙 Word count: 7,400
‘God… damn it! CAN YOU GET UP HERE AND HELP—’
Your words were torn from your mouth by the relentless wind as it buffered your skin. The harsh sea salt had cracked your lips and dulled your skin, leaving your cheeks raw and red, and your hands were growing tired from hauling rope.
You were alone on the deck of a tiny ship sailing right into an inferno, and you had no idea what to do.
Your asshole partner had insisted that you go out on their new boat. It’d clearly been an attempt to just show off. You couldn’t get a word in edgewise as they blabbered about their new toy, and eventually you’d just been worn down into going.
You’d tried to warn them about the weather. You’d tried to show them your phone, which clearly indicated that a storm was rolling in midafternoon, but they were too pompous to listen. As always.
You’d agreed to just go a little way out into the cove to see how it ran. They’d made you sit with your hands in your lap while they steered, because clearly you were too clumsy and naïve to touch anything on their precious vessel. You bit down your complaints and tried to enjoy it while you could.
And then, of course, they’d pushed it too far. They’d gone too far from the coast in an attempt to show off.
You’d watched the sky turning from pale blue to a foreboding grey, the clouds growing dark like a bruise on the horizon. Over and over you’d said to turn back, and over and over you’d been told the same thing: You were overreacting, you were petty, you were just trying to ruin this for them.
It was only when the first spatters of rain began to hit the deck that they’d finally decided to turn around, and their stubbornness had cost you dearly. The storm had rolled in faster than you could turn the vessel around. The beach was still just a blurry line in the distance, and the storm was threatening to throw you to the sea’s mercy.
Despite their previous snide comments about you not touching anything, they were currently below deck somewhere while you were struggling to hunker down the sails so you didn’t overturn.
‘Where—are they, fuck—Would you PLEASE help!’
Your desperate cry echoed against the thundering of rain overhead, but there was no reply. You could see the light was on downstairs. You knew they were there, could they really care about you so little?
‘I’m trying to batten everything down! Just hold on!’ Their voice floated out from behind the closed door. It only served to distract you from your job, as you still could barely hear what they were saying.
‘WHAT?’ you cried.
‘I’m battening down!’
‘BATTENING WHAT DOWN?!’
‘Just—’
A fresh gust of wind unsteadied your feet, and the rope slipped from your hands. The sail above was caught by the storm and began to turn the ship faster than you could keep up with.
‘S-Shit, no, no come on—’
You felt your feet slipping on the cold wood. The spray was blinding your sight.
‘Shit… shit—’
You clung to the rope as hard as you could, but when the next wave came in it slipped. Your knot hadn’t been tight enough. To your horror your feet were entirely swept out from underneath you.
‘HELP! HELP!’
You hit the deck and felt the wind knocked from your lungs. You tried to stand but the storm was faster than you, and as you squirmed on the wet deck your body began to slide. You rolled across the slippery wood right towards the edge.
‘No, NO—HEY! HEY! HEL—’
You didn’t even get a second chance to call for help.
You were flung down into the ocean with your stabilizing rope snaking after you into the blackened abyss, and the last thing you saw was your partners silhouette in the single lit window.
The water was freezing as it hit you. You sank down easy into the dark and the chaos.
You thrashed. You clawed. You squirmed and exploded bubbles from your maw, but your clothes were weighing you down, and the storm kept whipping waves over your head every time you even vaguely breached the surface. You got three or four good breathes in before you were swallowing sea water, and your arms were too tired to keep you afloat.
You kept thinking they’d save you. You kept thinking they’d come. But you just, kept, sinking.
Down, down, where the storm sounds were dulled to nothing. Where the world was a weightless, crushing void of indigo. Down to the unknown.
You couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. Your body drifted into the darkness.
But you could have sworn, right before you lost consciousness, that you felt someone grab you.
You woke slowly to the sound of sea birds.
One thought immediately filled your fuzzy mind. You were alive?
You blinked your eyes only to find them slightly crusty with salt. You had to wipe them clean with your wrist, and as you moved that you realized how sore you were. You were cold and stiff, your ankle swollen, but you were alive. How on earth were you alive?
You blinked your eyes a few more times until the crust broke, and with a low moan you began to take in your surroundings.
You were inside a gaping cave, a huge, jagged opening in the side of the bay. You assumed it must be the same bay you’d initially left from and not another since the rock was the exact same colour. There was water gently lapping at your side, water shallow enough to give you a view of the rock beneath. It was faintly pink, covered in barnacles and filled with seaweed and rocks.
A rockpool. You were in a rockpool cave.
You could feel something soft beneath you, which felt strange considering where you were. When you shifted your fingers, you realized that you were laying in a bed of wet kelp and moss atop a rock. Was this, natural?
You winced as you tried to move. The odds of you surviving like this were just non-existent, right? To have been swept into a safe cave, without hitting any rocks on the way, and all in enough time that you hadn’t drowned? It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. This was unfathomable. There had to be another explanation.
‘Are you awake?’
You jumped at the sound of a stranger’s voice echoing through the cave. It was deep, husky, cold. It wasn’t like any voice you’d ever heard before. You winced for a second time as you tried to roll, and the stranger spoke again.
‘Careful—careful, you’re hurt.’
‘Who—’
You shuffled onto your elbow and peered out towards the caves opening, trying desperately to see who was here. Was it some passerby who stumbled in, or perhaps a coastguard who’d tracked you? Perhaps your luck was turning after all.
But, there was no one at the cave mouth. You frowned, at first, until you felt the breath. Hot, warm breath, stirring your neck. You turned around and yelped.
Beside you was a man. Or at least, part of a man.
Deep red eyes peered at you from beneath a mop of long, thick, dark brown hair, hair that lay is braided strands around his neck and shoulders. He was muscled and broad, his skin brown and calloused by old scars. You could see salt crystals hanging from those thick locks about his shoulders, and it appeared that his skin had been painted or tattooed with smooth neon red lines.
He was a pretty man, a rugged creature of the sea, but he had strangely kind eyes. You could see his unkempt brows were raised in an attempt to seem unthreatening. By all means, if you’d met him in any other scenario, you would have simply been too shy to say a word. You would have been smitten, not frightened.
It was what lay beneath his muscled waist that scared you.
His pelvis gave way to a gargantuan torso, one that resembled the body of a large fish. His tail was long, its skin glimmering a deep and jewel-like navy blue, ending a taper that was decorating with a huge, fluttery, blood red tail, one that crinkled and rippled like fabric. You saw his little fleshy fins, his smooth spines, all glittering with little beads of water.
His fish half was floating idly in the deeper pool while his human torso clung to the rock you were perched on. His eyes were fixed on you, and he had you surrounded.
‘Ah… Y-you—’
‘How do you feel?’
The man’s voice came out gruff as he interrupted your stuttering.
‘I… I’m—’ You tried to speak but struggled to get a single word out. You were paralyzed by a mixture of fear and confusion.
‘You’re… scared, yes?’ the man said in a lower tone. He was trying to sound soft, to sound confident, but it was hard to underplay the powerful image of this otherworldly monster lying across your only way of escape.
‘Y…. y—’
‘I won’t hurt you’ he said slowly. He was clearly a little impatient, a little stiff, but he was trying. ‘I won’t.’
‘You, wont?’ you stammered. The man nodded.
‘I could have hurt you many times before now. I haven’t.’
When your eyes widened in horror the man suddenly sighed, realizing a little too late how that his example was less than comforting. ‘What I mean is, just- I won’t hurt you. I do not plan to hurt you, which is why, I haven’t. Okay? I swear’ he elaborated.
‘What- What are you?’ you said, your voice quivering. He shifted his enormous tail.
‘I’m- me’ he grunted.
‘Yo… what- what does that mean? What are you?!’ You repeated again.
The man tilted his head. ‘Is this, the shock, talking?’ he asked. It was hard to tell if he was being deliberately sarcastic or just struggling to give off a genuinely concerned tone, which certainly threw you off. ‘I, truly can’t tell. Do you want me to answer that genuinely?’
‘Y… You’re, um- you’re, real?’ you said, both a statement and a question. At that he unexpectedly broke into a dumbfounded smile, one that looked comforting on his weather-worn face.
‘Ah. It is the shock, then. I am real, yes. I am—’
‘You’re ah, uh—you’re a, merman’ you stammered. His smile softened as his eyes darted about your face.
‘Yes’ he said softly. ‘Yes, there you go.’
You began to murmur to yourself as you drew up your knees. ‘I’m…. I-I’m sorry, I—’
‘No need to apologize. I’m automatically wary around humans, but, you are… Not exactly a threat.’
‘I… No. I’m, not a threat’ you dumbly replied. You noticed the smile lines by his eyes grow deeper before he coughed to cover them up.
‘Hm. My name is, Miguel, if that helps’ he grunted. He seemed a little uncomfortable being so personable, but he was trying his best to ease your fear. It worked. Slowly you began to relax.
‘Hi’ you mumbled back, ‘I uh… My name is, Y/N.’
You noticed his tail flicking slightly in the deeper pool, causing ripples to dance across its surface towards you. ‘A pleasure to meet you’ Miguel replied in that cold but gentle voice, ‘if only it was under better circumstances.’
‘W- Where, um- can I ask, where am I?’ you panted.
‘You certainly can, you just did. You’re close to shore. You’re by the beach which extends towards the docks from which I assume you left. It’s low tide right now so, if you follow to the right you’ll get back to the beach. I’m, unsure if you can walk though, due to your ankle, and… unfortunately I cannot swim you out yet with the low water. Later, though, I will, when the tide comes back. That was my plan.’
As Miguel gave his monotone recital of your situation, your mind drifted elsewhere. One niggling thought kept bothering you.
‘You… did, you—did you rescue me?’ you asked. It felt a dumb question, but you were truly dumbfounded by this whole situation.
To your surprise, Miguel immediately nodded. ‘Yes. I did. I sensed the ship in the storm and went to check it, and I found you struggling beneath the waves. I hoisted you above the water and… well, I feel I must apologize to you.’
Miguel paused and rubbed his thickset jaw. It was hard to see his face in the dark, but, did he look ashamed?
‘I tried to take you directly to the docks but… With the storm, it was extremely busy. There were sailors trying to cover their vessels all over the board, and—well. I could not risk myself being seen. I brought you here so that I could shield you from the waves without being seen.’
‘No that… that’s, fine’ you mumbled. ‘I mean, I’m grateful you saved me at all. I really… really, thought I was going to die there.’
‘It’s nothing. You’re safe now. Though, I have to ask, why did you go out alone in the first place?’ he asked.
You blinked. ‘Why—what do you mean?’
‘Why did you go out into the storm, on the ship, alone? You’re in shock right now but… You don’t, seem like the kind to be that, risky, to put it nicely’ he repeated.
Immediately your brows furrowed. You remembered it all then; your asshole partner taking you out, forcing you to deal with the ship from the outside as the storm you had predicted would roll in did inevitably roll in. Had they even done anything to save you? Had they even noticed?
Miguel tilted his head at your expression. ‘What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Uh—no, it’s not your fault. Sorry. I wasn’t on the ship alone, and it wasn’t my choice. My, partner, I guess, wanted to go out and I didn’t want to start a fight by refusing. I knew there was a storm but they… didn’t- Ah, fuck- they didn’t listen to me.’
It felt strange saying partner at this point. In your head you certainly weren’t thinking of them the same way you used to. Really, you hadn’t thought of them like that for a while.
You slumped a little on the moss. ‘Ah… fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m gonna have to deal with that when I go back.’
Miguel didn’t say a thing at first. He just lay back and watched you writhe with patient eyes, until he noticed your foot impatiently tapping.
‘You seem… tense’ he murmured.
You tried desperately to look away.
‘Is it the pain?’ he asked. You shook your head.
‘No, I don’t—’ You tried to draw up your knees to your chest but you winced the second your ankle moved. You got too embarrassed and let it slide back down. ‘I don’t… want to go back.’
Miguel blinked again. ‘Why not?’
‘What do I have to go back to?’ you said with a slightly sad laugh. ‘That—asshole? Who left me on the ship, who let me fall overboard? I’m sure I’ll go back and, I’ll either get chewed out like this was my fault or I’ll get smothered with worry and guilt tripping until I internalize that it WAS my fault, and either I stay with them in that shitty cycle or- or I leave, and, I try to figure shit out.’
You tapped your foot violently at the thought. ‘No. I’m not going back to them. Not again. I- I can’t. I WON’T. And, in that case… I got, nothing. No home, no- friends out here, no real assets just… ah. Fucckk.’
You hiccupped into an awkward finish, and after that you were too ashamed to continue talking.
Miguel sat with you in silence. In the silence you could hear the slippery smooth sound of his skin as his tail coiled and shifted beneath the water, mixed with the dripping of water from above. It was terribly tense.
‘Okay. We’ll, wait.’
You were surprised by his blunt dismissal. You were sure that this creature would want to be rid of you, or would complain about your attitude, but, he seemed unphased. At least, he seemed unphased. His face was so hard to read.
‘Would you like me to check your ankle, then?’ he asked, gesturing to the swollen inflamed pound above your foot. You blinked. Wait, he was worried about you?’
‘Y- uh, sure. I’m not sure what you can do for it though.’
Miguel carefully angled his tail and slid forward until his torso was right next to your own, allowing his hands to find your ankle.
‘Mm… I’ll, try not to hurt you’ he murmured. You nodded, and slowly he began to feel over the swelling. You shuddered the moment you felt his hand. God, his hands felt good. Strong, calloused, worn, warm. It was a new feeling to be gripped by something like that.
You realized, then, that the clothes you’d been wearing were gone. They must have been stripped off in the storm? Either way, you were wearing nothing but the one-piece bathing suit you’d been wearing beneath them.
If Miguel had noticed he didn’t say anything. He continued stroking over the soft bump in your ankle with diligent eyes. ‘It doesn’t look like it’s broken’ he muttered to himself. ‘Which is… good.’
To your internal horror, you felt your cheeks growing warm. He was ever, ever so pretty, and so gentle. He didn’t look like he should be this gentle.
His breath hit your shoulder as he worked, and against your better judgement you leaned into it. It felt… nice. For something so cold, so wet, he was so human too. Your body continued to lean in until you realized that you were practically nestled into the crook of his neck.
You looked up, and your eyes met. He glanced down at your face with slightly raised brows.
‘Mm?’
‘Ah—sorry, I’m- I’m tired’ you stammered, forcing yourself up. He didn’t approach you nor rebuff you; he simple chuckled, his lips turned into an adorable half smile. He looked old beyond his years, you thought. 
‘It’s fine. You can rest if you must.’
You felt the heat growing deeper. You coughed with pursed lips and turned to stare at the wall. ‘No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.’
You hadn’t realized how touch starved you were. You hadn’t been treated kindly in far too long, and this one basic gesture was causing you to overflow. He was very, very pretty. Really pretty. It really didn’t help the situation, just how pretty he was. God, it was all you could think about. You just kept letting it go around and around in your mind.
Pretty, pretty, rugged sea beast.
‘Your partner.’
You jumped back into the moment at the sound of his voice. ‘Ah- yeah? What- what about them?’
‘Mm. That’s a very telling response’ he noted. You shuddered as he continued to massage your ankle.
‘I—Sorry, I didn’t mean to be snippy.’
‘That’s not what I meant’ he grunted.
‘Well… Then- can you just, say what you meant then?’ you said. He glanced at you again.
‘I wanted to ask you about it. You sounded distressed.’
‘I… I mean, yeah, I am. You don’t have to worry about that though.’
‘I know I don’t. I just am. They sounded… Cruel, the way you described them’ Miguel noted as he rubbed at your ankle. You gave a sad grunt of a laugh.
‘Mm. Cruel, I guess it- I used to hate when people said that, because it made me… It made me feel stupid, I guess, for downplaying things that they apparently so easily spotted as unfair or bad or toxic.’
‘If they were- controlling you, I fail to see how it was your fault’ he noted. ‘You clearly didn’t like it, but, it sounds like you had no other choice.’
‘Mm. You’re very astute for a fish.’
He snorted a laugh, his lip tilting at the corner. ‘Mm. I’m human too, you know. I understand loneliness. I understand it well.’
‘Are there not many others like you?’ you asked curiously.
His hand squeezed the upper part of your leg to test for tenderness and you shivered. He took note. ‘Not really. The ocean is big, there’s a lot of- empty space. Sometimes we travel in packs but… that is, unusual. We only really gather to mate. I usually drift by myself.’
‘Huh, so uh- I guess you do have, what I assume is quite a bit of experience with love then’ you gently teased.
His tilted smile turned sad. ‘Oh, no. I have been… unsuccessful in love. It’s been a long time since I managed to find a mate. A long, long time. I, more or less stopped bothering.’
‘Y—wait, really? You? How?’
He glanced up and you immediately baulked at how overt you’d been. ‘I mean—I—’
‘Are you, implying I’m attractive?’ he asked. You tried to look away but it was so hard, with those big red eyes and those full, rough lips. You swallowed hard.
‘Ah… I mean, objectively, yes. You’re, a very attractive man’ you said, placing desperate emphasis on the word ‘objective’.
His smile had vanished, seemingly out of shock, but it came back as he observed your awkwardness. He didn’t seem used to smiling. ‘Huh. Well, mil gracias. That’s kind of you to say.’
You smiled and turned to silently sitting, and as he continued his work, he intentionally began to get closer.
Behind his calm expression, Miguel was sweating. He was petrified you’d realize that his brushing of your ankle was just a ploy, an excuse, to remain close to your soft little body.
He couldn’t let you see how his eyes lit up when he saw your face. He couldn’t let you see how warm his cold, scaley body felt in your presence.
He’d seen so many humans in his life, and none sparked such excitement in him. You’d fallen down into his world like an angel from heaven, a gift from Poseidon right into his arms, and even though you’d been barely lucid when he held you above the stormy waves he could have sworn you’d seen him.
Your exhausted body had clung to him as he kept you safe. You’d nestled into his chest, your arms around his neck, and you’d whispered. You’d whispered, ‘thank you’. You’d whispered, ‘beautiful’.
He didn’t know if you remembered that. It seemed that you didn’t. Still, part of him was praying you’d remember.
His eyes drifted from your ankle to the cut of your swimsuit where it clung to your skin. He watched your hips shift, your chest heave as you breathed. He felt that soft, primal thud of his heart, and looked away.
‘When you eventually return to the land, what do you think you’ll do?’ Miguel asked, trying to bury his interest in small talk. His torso was now pressed in at your side with your faces turned in opposite directions.
You sighed. ‘I got no idea. No idea. I guess I’ll have to just… figure it out, right? I’ll have to find a new place, try to- get my stuff back I guess. It’s gonna be exhausting but, what else can I do, yanno? It’s just… Whatever. It’s a part of life. Man, I’m not looking forward to tryna figure out dating again.’
‘Do you think, you’ll begin looking for a new mate quickly?’ Miguel asked. His eye turned a little to try and catch your eye.
‘Mate. Huh. As weird as it sounds… I kind of, want to move on’ you mused. ‘I want the, confirmation that it’s over, that I can move on and proof that there’s better out there.’
You didn’t notice the way Miguel’s tail began to whip in the water. His hands drifted up your leg.
‘That’s understandable. Well, don’t worry about that right now. You may stay with me as long as you wish’ he said.
You chuckled. ‘What, are you suggestin—’
You turned, again, and this time you found yourself nose to nose with Miguel.
That single, simple moment hit you like a wave breaking on shore. It was the sudden realization that you felt something. Something tangible. Something, real.
Yearning. A deep, basal yearning in your loins that were pulsing with your blood, one that seemed to palpitate outside your body. It was as if it was physically coiling around you both, like your joint curiosity was manifesting.
You blinked. Miguel’s eyes darted over your face, almost like he was looking for something. You tried to breathe but it caught in your throat, and immediately his eyes widened. He’d found what he was hoping for, praying for.
‘Are you okay?’ he murmured. You dumbly nodded.
‘A-Ahuh…’
‘You, seem… a little, breathless’ he noted. You couldn’t even respond. For a tense minute you were both silent, nose to nose with your lips barely an inch apart. Neither of you would move.
‘Most… people, wouldn’t let me get this close’ he said after a while. He was testing the waters. ‘Even after saving them.’
‘T… They wouldn’t?’
‘No.’
Your chest heaved and brushed his own giant pecs, briefly giving a taste of skin on skin. The way your eyelids fluttered drew him closer. That throbbing in your loins get harder, stronger. His breathing got faster.
‘I can… move back, if you want’ he asked. That simple question was dripping with a million layers of nuance.
‘N… No, it’s fine’ you replied. He swallowed, and you watched his adams apple jolt. When he spoke again you felt it hit your face.
‘Is it, just, fine?’ he asked. His deep voice had dipped.
Your whole body shuddered.
‘You will have heard rumours, I’m sure’ he said softly. ‘About, dangerous fish men. Otherworldly merpeople, come to the shore to grab innocent people who they drag away for- unsavoury purposes.’
As he spoke you peered around his shoulder, watching the way his tail flicked. It hit you how huge he was in that moment. With his tail he was nearly twice the size of your body. Your eyes rolled back with a soft pant, and the first thing you saw was the fangs glinting behind his parted lips.
‘Those poor people. What they always fail to mention, is that they all come willingly.’ His voice had dipped to a whisper, and it was making you tremble. He could almost smell the need in you.
‘These poor, unwanted people, whose shoulders grow heavy from the weight of the world, they yearn for the sea. It is, weightless. It is, free. Erotic.’
As he spoke your body slid down the slimy rocks into the warm pool, and just as he’d described, you began to float. Your body lost all tension as he helped hold you up beneath the gently lapping water.
‘But it is…. Lonely. The ocean is vast, and it is empty, and it is cold. And some of us… Can’t help but yearn for the warmth of your people. Your, hot blood, your little bodies. The warmth of your, lost, and weary, who would maybe understand us.’
His breath hit your ear, and you felt it in him too. That same loneliness. That same yearning.
‘I have not touched another soul in a long time’ he whispered. ‘I would be… grateful, to relieve myself, with you. I will happily set you free too.’
‘Please.’
You blurted the word without thinking, and despite the desperation in your voice he seemed to sense that. He didn’t move any closer. He held himself about an inch away, with his lips by your ear and his long, slippery body gently wrapped around your own.
‘Do you wish to taste something different?’ he whispered.
‘Yes’ you panted. The tension inside you was growing painful. ‘Yes, yes.’
‘Do you long for the sea?’ he purred.
‘Yes—’
‘Do you long for me?’
His pelvis sank down and began to rub between your legs. You let out an audible moan, one that echoed in the confines of the cave.
‘Y-Yes, please—please, please’ you repeated. The moment you moaned he gave in.
Miguel leaned in and kissed you hard, smothering your lips with his own. You could taste the salt on his rough, warm skin, and when his tongue slipped out you tasted it there too. He was rough but slow, occasionally opening his eyes a crack to see your response.
Your eager little mewls, your touch starved whines, they fed him. He pushed you up against the rocks with a rough growl.
‘Mm—’
His tongue was warm in your mouth as it explored. As you shyly broached his lips with your own tongue, you felt his fangs, sharp and thick and smooth. You whimpered as he moved in deeper with a second groan.
‘Mmm…. Mm, mm—’
His claws began to roam your body. You felt him start at your hips, his fingers squeezing the unfamiliar flesh, before moving up to your waist and then your chest. His thumb hit your nipple and you squeaked, drawing out another groan from him.
You were breathing on each other, hot and heavy, huffing through the nose as you whined and moaned. Never had you been so sought after, never had anything pet you with such ravenous hands.
You melted in his firm grip, giving in to his strength and his power, until something unexpected jolted you back into the moment. Something slippery, long and hard was probing between your legs and up your belly.
Your eyes shot open mid kiss. Sensing your hesitation Miguel pulled back, allowing you to glance down and see what you’d felt.
Two joint phalli, one on top of the other, both the same pale red as his tail decoration, emerging from the same slit in his pelvis. They were smooth, clean, slightly curved with a rounded tip.
You stared at his offering with curious eyes.
‘Ah… o-oh, I—’
‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t- keep them down’ he murmured. He sounded a little embarrassed, a sight so cute on such a gruff man.
‘No. No, it’s okay. It’s okay.’ You darted your eyes from his face to his shafts as you reassured him. He gave a soft nod as he sensed your interest, and slowly you reached out to touch them.
Your first thought was how wet they were. They were slippery, already dripping with something thick and viscose, almost like Vaseline.
It was oily in your hand as you tried to fist it back and forth. It twitched as you stroked, which you noted with a soft throb of your own, and you caught his eyes rolling. You squeaked when he abrupted bucked into your hand, forcing that thick, slippery cock to slide through your fingers and back again.
‘Ah… sorry, it- I haven’t been stimulated in so long’ he groaned.
‘I-It’s okay, you’re all good’ you said. You gingerly gave him a few more strokes, using both hands to rub both shafts. You watched his tail thrash in response, his back arching and rolling to rock them deeper. His gruff little moans were so sweet.
‘Ah- please, m—mm- may I have you?’ he pleaded.
You faltered only for a moment. It wasn't usually like you to be this impulsive, but you wanted this. You wanted him. You wanted freedom.
You nodded and slowly slipped down, presenting your body to him to guide. He took it.
You lay back and let him strip your swimsuit aside. You felt his fingers as they slipped beneath the wet fabric, as they brushed your skin for the first time. You felt them ghosting over your inner thigh, just barely stroking your pussy lips as he pushed the suit to the side.
You tensed and gasped; it was enough to give you goosebumps. He spread you wide without shame.
You watched Miguel’s eyes roaming. He notes the hairs on your arms standing up, the feel of raised skin as he stroked them, the sight of your chest heaving as your breath came a little faster. He could see your nipples harden beneath the suit.
Most of all, though, he stared at your perfectly framed cunt beneath the shifting water. He used his thumb to curiously spread you, noting the folds beading with slick.
Beneath the water his joint phalli twitched in unison. You hadn’t noticed, but his eyes had begun to glow a bright neon red. He wanted to plunder whatever sweet pearl was inside.
‘You will… need to be, careful’ he panted. You stayed still as he grabbed your ankles, tenderly pushing them in until your knees folded and your back bent, creating a perfect mating press. You shuddered as his smooth body settled in on top of you. You felt his cock poking at your naked pussy for the first time.
‘I will have to… manoeuvre them, a little, so I don’t try to penetrate you with both. That would be- painful. I will use one to stimulate you instead, is that… okay?’
‘Yeah. Y-Yeah, that’s okay.’
‘Good. Okay… Just hold onto me’ he purred. His hand tenderly slid down and around to cup your lower back while the other gripped the rock by your head for support. You felt his thumb stroking your spine. So soft, yet so rough.
You dug your nails into his back, and you let him slip in.
His cock went in smoothly, with little to no resistance, but that didn’t change how much space it took up. They were both huge.
It slid up like a snake, guided by that strange, slippery lubricant coating the silky skin, until it could go no further. You were now fully penetrated, your belly bulging and your clit smeared by his second little twitching shaft. You squirmed a little to adjust.
Fuck, it ached. It felt good, but it was really splitting you in half. You’d never been stretched like this, ever, not even close.
‘F-Fuck- ah, that’s, big—’ you winced.
‘That- that’s it… I’ve got you… You're mine now’ Miguel groaned. 
Fuck, you here his, and you were tight. Your skin felt good on his scales. Soft, malleable flesh, a cute squeezable body, perfectly impaled. He flexed and twitched his cock to feel it nuzzle your insides, imprinting it with little smears of precum. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to stamp the feeling of your cunt muscles clenching and quivering around him on the inside of his brain.
Bit by bit, he began to move.
‘A-Ah—’
In the water you could feel his skin as it slid across you, moist and slick like wet silk, moving with a dexterity and flexibility that no human could have. It made you shudder. Your brain knew that it felt wrong, but the pleasurable tightness in your gut told you that you didn’t care.
You dug your nails into his back and relied on his own huge hands to keep you steady.
‘Uhn—uhn— uhn—’
His soft grunts echoed above you as he nestled into your neck.
‘That’s it… That’s it. Ah- you are, so, soft…’
Your legs shook a little as he drew back and forth, his two long shafts shifting in tandem. You felt the longer rod easily filling you before slipping out.
Bit by bit the initial ache in your core started to subside. You began to relax. The pain numbed into a soft, smooth, pleasurable motion, and you began to moan.
You lost track of time in that private space, as you indulged your most perverse needs. You were lulled by pleasure. The slow rhythm of his pulsing, the gentle stimulating rubbing on your clit, the wetness and the warmth, it was like a dream.
You wanted this. You wanted to be wanted. In that moment, as he nestled your cheek and whined for more, whispering how good you felt in your ear, you forgot your asshole ex. You forgot everyone.
Part of you would have liked to be caught. You quivered at the thought. To be found like this, utterly impaled by this beautiful ethereal creature. It excited you.
You only noticed that any time had even passed when a salty wave hit your cheek. Wait, was the water, rising?
You didn’t get a chance to think about it. You were lost in the moment, your head dizzy from the sensations overstimulating every single one of your senses. The cave echoed with the slapping of water, the rhythmic pounding of flesh as he fucked you. His grunts were rough, tinged with some deep inhuman clicking sound that was almost like purring.
The sound of your taboo little fling filled the cave until you drowned in it.
The water kept rising. It was breaking, lapping, streaming in to lap over your conjoined bodies. It almost seemed to be mimicking Miguel’s own feelings; the peaking, the brewing tension in his gut as he wallowed in pleasure.
He started to get faster.
‘Miguel--!’
You tried to cry out but he fucked the words from your mouth. His claws raked your skin as his abdomen thrashed and humped you into submission.
‘Uhn- uhn- uhn—uhn- uhn-' 
‘Mi—a-ah—mi—Mig—’
Wave after wave swept in, until eventually, you were covered.
With a sudden gasp you went under.
In the frantic thralls of mating Miguel didn’t seem to notice. You watched bubbles rise to the surface as you gasped and moaned, sounds that were utterly muffled by the deep. A pressure covered your mouth and nose until you were utterly unable to breath, a pressure that matched the pressure on your insides. You could focus on nothing now but that wet slap, the pounding of flesh going in and out of your guts, the passionate thrashing of his tail as he fucked you raw.
It was too much. Right as you started to get lightheaded, you orgasmed, your whole body spasming and straining around his cocks.
The feel of you clenching thankfully managed to snap him from his trance. Miguel drew his head from your neck to find your eyes rolling backward, and in a panic he lent forward and kissed you. His lips were full and smooth, easily drawing back and forth against your own, and as his tongue snaked down into your throat you felt the last cusp of your conscious mind pleading for more.
But then you gasped, and you were not met with a mouthful of sea water this time. Miguel withdrew his lips from yours and with it he blew a small air bubble across your mouth, allowing you to breathe.
You realized that water had filled the cave so high that you were both now suspended, your body clasped in his hands to stop it drifting away. You could see all of him. His long tail snaking, his thick fleshy shafts between your spread legs, his broad beautiful human torso above you. You saw it all.
You panted hard as your eyes met. You were still impaled on his cock, with his strong arms and muscular tail holding you beneath the water. He panted back, bubbles flying from his lips. As soon as he confirmed that you were, in fact, breathing, he grunted, and to your surprise pulled himself out.
You watched the bulge in your belly slip out as his cock exited your hole.
For a moment you were distraught, sure that you’d done something wrong, but it was only for a moment. He immediately pulled you close and entered you again, though this time he entered you twice. One cock slipped its oily girth into your cunt while the other slid up into your anus, filling you to absolute completion.
He groaned, hard, and immediately started to rut you again. He wouldn’t allow you to be hurt, but by god, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He was on the cusp of euphoria.
‘A-Ah—fuck--!’
Your moans were no longer muffled as he started to fuck you again. Your screams just kept him going. The sweet siren call of your own pleasure, your own need. It drove him to seek it, drove him to arch his tail and buck his hips for more.
He grabbed your wrist with one of his hands and pulled you in close, smoothly wrapping himself around you until you were bound by his body. It looked almost sweet, like you were ballroom dancing, but it was anything but.
He was using every muscle he had to push against your weightless state, working against gravity to fuck you all the same. You clung to him as he squeezed the life back into you.
‘Ah… Miguel—!’
His entire, massive slender form was thrashing and humping to get deeper, closer, harder, almost crushing you in response. You just kept begging, screaming.
His tail whipped ferociously. His grunts were forming bubbles in the deep, little manifestations of his primal urge. He thrust, and he thrust, and he thrust, and he ravaged your creamy little cunt with each one. He forced your legs a little further apart with his slippery body. He pushed in deeper.
And then, with a guttural, wordless groan, he climaxed.
You let him cum inside you. You let those long, slippery shafts pulse and pump, creaming you into a whimpering mess, stuffing you up until it was all you could feel. The warmth, the grip, his body and flesh merged with your own. You took all he had to offer between your legs.
‘A-ah… ah….’
In the comedown you found yourself floating. The cave was completely filled with water, something that seemed impossible.
Miguel grunted and gently swam you both to the surface, to a tiny pocket of air left at the top of the cave. As you surfaced your little air bubble popped and you gasped. There you stayed, floating weightless in his arms as he held you to his chest, allowing you to relax. You were sore, and bruised, but it was so, so worth it.
‘Are—are you okay?’
Miguel’s voice jolted you from a sleep you hadn’t even noticed yourself falling into. ‘Y… Yeah, ah—very, very good’ you panted.
He let your head fall back so you could meet his gaze, but he kept his shafts inside you, and he kept his arms and tail around you too. He kept you close.
‘Come with me.’
His eyes were eerie in the dark water. They glowed so brightly, like an anglerfish’s lure, a deep and passionate red that danced across your skin.
‘Let me take you deeper’ he whispered. ‘Let me- adore you.’
‘C…. C-Can I, do that?’ you stammered.
His eyes were so soft in the dark. He leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips.
‘If you wish it’ he whispered again. ‘You can leave your life behind. I’ll take you away. I’ll take you somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet and calm, somewhere they won’t bother you anymore. A world untouched by any man.’
‘I… what if I change my mind?’
Miguel blinked. Did he look, hurt? It was hard to say. He raised his dripping hand to his lips and blew another bubble, which he tenderly held out to your face.
‘It’s an offer to come with me. To be free. I offer you my breath, that’s all. But you can have the rest, too. You can have the rest of me, if you let me have you.’
Your heart skipped a beat beneath his glowering gaze. To your surprise, it was an easy answer.
‘Yes.’
Miguel purred. He popped the little air bubble and instead kissed your lips, creating a new one over your mouth as he simultaneously sank you back into the depths.
528 notes · View notes
shotmrmiller · 4 months
Text
what if 09 ghost's wife appeared into 22 ghost's home, who's already married?
what then?
The moment you were handed his dog tags, you blinked, and you were here. In a cozy home, with evidence of children lying around, with a pot of simmering food on the stove. With skeleton gloves resting on the counter.
And then there's a woman letting out a blood-curdling scream.
And then there's Simon, your Simon, aiming a handgun straight to your forehead, muzzle harshly pressing into your skin.
"Who are you? How did you get inside?" he snarls. He's rabid, vein bulging from his forehead in fury.
The thunderous rhythm of your heart pounding in your ears drowns out his barrage of questions.
You don't flinch as he looks down to the tags in your hand, don't wince when he yanks them away from you.
When he reads the name, he'll demand to know where you got them, and you'll tell him that you're his wife. This is all that's left of him for you to keep.
Now you do flinch when he asserts, "I've already got a wife. Now get the fuck out."
He releases you and walks backward to where his wife is and tucks her under his arm, safe, protected.
Your breath rattles as it escapes your chapped lips, and with one quivering hand you ask him for your husband's dog tags back.
"Please," you whimper, "Let me have them and I'll go."
Simon doesn't move an inch, his gaze hard, staring at you like you're his enemy, but his sweet wife is the one who takes pity on you. She takes them and slowly extends her hand out, chain dangling from her fist.
"I'm sorry."
721 notes · View notes
ickadori · 4 months
Note
hihi again! i sent in the ask about how suku/ura would react to yorozu interacting with reader, and i just read your newest post, and oh myyyyyyy i think i fell more in love with the whole trio's dynamic ^^
anyway after i read the punishment fic something that stood out to me was the line about y/n's village being burnt down. i wonder if she thinks back to her times living in the village. in my mind, y/n kinda hated her life beforehand. she may have been treated badly in the village and now that she thinks back on it, she realizes just how much suku and ura have changed her life. like, she's actually grateful for their violence because now she's able to live her life (somewhat) freely.
just a little fluff moment for the trio that crossed my mind but i'd love to hear your take on soft moments like this with the trio :) if there any ig :p
cws for mentions of abuse from reader’s family.
You don’t often think about your life before Sukuna and Uraume - you try not to, at least, but sometimes you can’t help but remember your time in the village on nights like this: lightning lighting up the dark sky, thunder booming overhead, and wind violently whipping the trees back and forth as a storm rages outside.
You had come from a small village, one that wasn’t even big enough to make it on the map. All of the townspeople knew each other by name, and could list off everyone in your family two generations past. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew everything about each other, and you think that was the worst part of it all.
Your parents had died when you were young, too young to even remember their names, much less their faces, and your aunt had been the one to take you in. You used to wonder why she had done it, she had made it painfully obvious how much she detested you and your dead mother, but in a village as small of yours and a pride as great as hers, she would have rather died than have the village folk whisper about her behind her back.
Her other children, your cousins, had been no kinder towards you. They followed their mother’s lead and ostracized you, a few of the nastier ones even taking to bullying you when their day hadn’t gone how they wanted it to. You had been their anger outlet, occasionally their punching bag, all while you had to clean up their messes and cook their meals.
They were allowed to have academic lessons to teach them to read and write, while you had been to stand outside in the yard to keep from overheating anything. Your aunt enforced this rule no matter the weather conditions, and you found yourself shivering in the cold winter months, your coat tattered and no shoes on your feet (you weren’t permitted to leave the house, so what was your need for shoes, she always said) as you stood in the snow until your feet grew numb, or overheating in the hot, summer sun until you were drenched in sweat and severely dehydrated.
Sometimes it stormed —just as it is now, as you reside in Sukuna’s palace—, stormed so badly that the trees became uprooted from the ground and crashed down beside you. You cried and sobbed those days, because the thunder was loud enough to drown out your cries, and therefore you didn’t have to worry about your aunt growing angry about the noise.
The people of your village cast you glances, some filled with pity, others filled with indifference, but none of them offered a hand to help. They watched you stand for hours, some days the bruises marring your skin glaringly obvious, and pulled their shutters closed as they disappeared into their homes and erased you from their minds.
You hated them, every last single person in that village, and that’s why you hadn’t shed a single tear when it was tore down to the ground. You had stood there and watched, not frozen, as a single man killed all the people you had wished death upon countless times. You had thought he was some kind of demon coming to exact revenge on your behalf, so it was no surprise to you when you had thrown yourself at his feet and cried in joy, jumbled words of thanks and gratitude being thrown at him.
You had fully expected for him to kill you, too, and you hadn’t minded one bit - you had got to see their ends first, so you couldn’t complain too much now that yours was next, but here you were..
Standing near the open doors to the garden and watching as the flower petals were ripped free from the violent winds and whipped around in the air. A crack of thunder sounded, and a flash of lightning lit up the sky in the next second.
A strong gust of wind sends you teetering back on your heels, and a set of hands settle on your waist to steady you. You tilt your head back and look up to see Sukuna, a small smile gracing your features as you take him in.
“You said you disliked storms.”
“I do.”
“So you stand in open doors to watch them?” He looks down at you, hands moving to pull at your now wet night dress, and he lowly tsks. “You’ll catch a cold.” Uraume seems to appear out of thin-air as they push the doors closed, their attention also moving to your wet clothing.
“It’s just a bit of rain - I’ll be fine.”
“The bath is still hot, my Lord.”
“Cover yourself in the meantime.” Sukuna drapes his overcoat around your shoulders, his scent completely surrounding you. You’re hoisted into his arms a moment later.
“I’ll have one of the servants prepare some tea in advance—some soup, as well.”
They speak back and forth as they move through the halls to the bath room, and Uraume wastes no time in filling the still steaming bath with a few different herbs that you recognize as medicinal. Sukuna makes quick work of your clothing and even quicker work of his, and then he’s lowering the two of you down into the bath, one set of hands scooping up hot water and letting it run down your chilled arms, the other set kneading into the meat of your lower back.
Uraume is out of the room in the blink of an eye, and you release a breath as you relax into Sukuna’s chest, your hands moving to grab ahold of one of his. ��Ryomen..”
A hot rag is pressed to your forehead as he hums in response, and you run your fingers over the bumps of his knuckles. “What is it?” He pushes, and you shake your head when a lump begins to build in your throat, instead choosing to twist around in his lap and press your cheek against his chest, his skin hot against yours.
You hear Uraume enter a few moments later, confirming that the soup and tea will be ready soon, and then their hands are joining in to move a hot rag against your skin, their voice low as the two of them speak back and forth about your apparent “lethargy”.
They make it painfully evident that without them, you would have likely died in that village never having known what it felt like to be cared about, and it makes your feelings for them ever stronger.
..thank you.
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ceruleancattail · 3 months
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Hello, I apologize for the inconvenience, but I would like to make a request to Jamil, where in his overblot state he expelled the octanaville trio, Kalim, Grim but left the reader (or MC if you prefer) in scarabia because Jamil already had feelings for her, and took advantage of her overblot state to finally have her beloved diamond, with no one to get in the way (you can decide if you want Yandere or not, but I need to see Jamil be loved and adored by her diamond, maybe the MC doesn't even care much about that because he also has some feelings for Jamil)
Better
Overblot Jamil Viper x reader
Tw: yandere, suggestive, mentions of blood
The pressure of his gaze was stifling.
Weighing down on both of your shoulders, forcing them downwards. The fear struck you like the deadly claws of some horrid beast, sinking deep into your flesh, impaling your bones. Striking fear into the very crevices of your heart.
Sweat coated both of your hands, glistening away against your palms. Fracturing every glint of light left in the room, sending them everywhere in scattered, panicked rays.
Much like your frantic heartbeat, thumping ceaselessly against its cage of bone. Thundering in your ears, drowning out all coherent thought. The only things that managed to stay were animalistic instincts.
Run.
Hide.
Shivering, you raise your head. Making eye contact with Jamil. No…. Not Jamil. That… thing standing tall in front of you, towering over your quavering form. Covered with a black, tar like substance that spilled from every inch of his body. Waxing and waning right before your eyes, twisting into intricate, elaborate designs. Yet for all their delicate beauty, every single piece just felt like another blade, edge sinisterly sharp.
Sharp enough to pierce through flesh like paper.
Sharp enough to hurt both the opponent and the person who donned it.
What had Crowley said?
“Overblots drain the host’s energy. Sapping away at it, bit by bit.
Until they’re nothing but a shell of their former self.”
Lowering your gaze, your eyes flickered from the left and right. No sign of the companions who accompanied you on this reckless crusade. It was supposed to be simple. Expose Jamil’s plans, and everyone makes amends. Your life carries on.
Unfortunately, they’ve been flung out with a simple swipe of the enraged vice-house warden. Tossed aside like scraps of trash, like they didn’t even matter in the first place. Clutching at the fabric of your blazer, you mutter a silent prayer to whatever was looking out for you at that moment.
You managed to roll away just in the nick of time. As a regular, magic-less being, you weren’t too sure if you would have even survived from an impact that large. A quick look at the remains of that blow were enough to send a chill racing down your spine.
Cracked tiles, marble shattered into mere particles of dust, scattered throughout the breeze. Just to think, that would have been you.
“Hey.”
Jamil’s voice rung out, no longer that docile, gentle voice he used when you two worked in the kitchen together. It was horribly distorted, twisted into something that just oozed venom. He spat out his words, anger sizzling in every syllable.
“Where do you think you’re looking?”
Upon meeting those eyes of ebony, all you could muster were sobs, choked out of the very depths of your throat. Hands feebly reaching for where your companions once stood, if that would have brought them back.
A dark blur slammed into the ground right next to you. A shadowy snake, smashing into the floor right next to you. Sending up dust, grime and jagged fragments of what was once delicately painted floor tiles. Some impaled themselves into your palm, your arm. Jagged edges sinking deep into flesh, piercing everything that they could reach.
A growl, a deep, guttural sound. The sound of a territorial beast, sinking its jaws into what was his.
“Stop looking around. They’re gone.”
As quick as a viper’s strike, Jamil’s hand reached out for your face. Grabbing your chin with a single palm, nails digging deep into your skin. Wincing, you jerk backwards, if only in a last-ditch effort to escape his hold.
“Keep your eyes on me, instead.”
Jamil only holds on tighter, squeezing tighter. Your jaw stung, screeching out in burning, white hot pain. A sharp stench stabbed into your nostrils, the foul smell of metallic, scarlet blood. Beads of crimson blossomed on your skin, dripping down the curves of your face.
A forked tongue flickered, slipping out of his lips. Sliding across in one smooth motion. As if Jamil could taste your fear, and he was… relishing in it. A sadistic gleam sparked to life within his eyes, dancing around within like a flame, eager for more to burn.
“Red does look rather good on you. Perhaps you should adorn it more often.”
Something in his voice made you fairly sure that his statement wasn’t just a suggestion. The cold, firm way he delivered that line… it was an order. An order from the tyrant right in front of you.
You gulped silently, words spilling off your tongue in an attempt to snap Jamil out of… whatever twisted state he was in.
“Jamil, stop it. There’s still time, you still have a chance to change back. If this keeps up-“
Grip loosening, you hasten the pace of your speech, convinced your words were getting through to him. For the briefest of seconds, you allowed yourself to hope.
Only for that fleeting, delicate feeling to be crushed. The hand clutching at your cheek was shoved against your mouth, slamming it shut. Jamil’s eyes narrow, glaring daggers at your own.
“Shut up.”
You only got a shallow gulp of air before Jamil’s lips press against yours, his kiss hungry, greedy. Warmth surges through your mouth, his forked tongue flicking menacingly against yours. Hell, you could feel his fangs, those ivory daggers of white graze your lower lip, sharpened edges slipping into the plush of your lip.
Jamil kissed recklessly, drowning in endless waves of both passion and lust. Reaching for every inch you could possibly give, and tearing right past that limit. He took, took, and took, with little to no regard for how much you could give.
By the time he pulled away, there were tears pooling up at the very edge of your eyes. Your lungs ached, a dull sensation. Desperately heaving, sucking in one breath after another, to replace whatever Jamil saw fit to steal from you.
Breathlessly, you mutter.
“Let go of me, Jamil. This isn’t good… for the both of us.”
A low chuckle, before Jamil threw back his head. Laughing hysterically, his laughter echoing through the hallways of Scarabia. Each booming sound dripping with malice, dripping into your ears like acid, hissing and spitting.
“Oh, my dear.
I’ve never felt better.”
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