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#and that is why i should never fucking tell anyone about my feelings or anything at all ever ever
hellish-sunsets · 3 days
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You're an Asshole - Pt 1 - How it Started
AN: should I focus on my requests or ongoing pics? Yes. Am a writing an Adam x fem!angel!reader where he becomes better out of pure spite? Obviously. Anyways enjoy!
Warnings: lots of swearing
Wordcount: 1,089
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“You're an asshole.”
It was a phrase Adam had heard uttered time and time again with anger imbued in every syllable. Over the thousands of years that passed, not once did that phrase ever bother him. Because he was right, wasn't he? He was Adam, the first man, made to be perfect by the angel's hands themselves. Everyone else could think what they want, it changed nothing about who he was. Even if that knowledge led to the same pride that felled Lucifer, even if this line of thought brought him to the very same sins he condoned the sinners in hell for.
But she called him an asshole, and despite all his ego, or maybe because of it, it hurt. There was no anger behind the words, no hurt. Perhaps there was the faintest trace of sadness, but more than that it was a cold fact. The clouds were white, the sky sat above and the ground below, and Adam the first man was an asshole. 
And for some reason he couldn't comprehend, it ate at him. At first he was angry. He cursed her out, spouted whatever vile and venomous words he could think of. How dare she think so little of him? HIM? He was ADAM, dammit! How dare she? Even after the two separated, he ranted and raved for days until even Lute was getting tired of his bitching, not to mention the others who had the displeasure of being around him at this time.
But then he got quiet, and that was even more terrifying. Adam and quiet did not mean anything good. 
He stayed in his office longer and longer, thinking. Why did it bother him so much? Why was he still thinking about it? That woman, why did her opinion matter so much to him?
He went over the facts to himself, trying to break down what bothered him so much. She was an angel, made in heaven for heaven, part of the heavenly choir. He had never met her before that day, had only heard her voice occasionally. He… supposed he liked her singing, even if the songs were a bit more pansy than his usual rock and roll. Some were pretty hard core, he guessed, just in a different, less angry way. He heard in some passing whispers that she went to various concerts often, but he had never seen her at one of his. 
When he had seen her at his concert that day, he had been… excited? Like her presence was some sort of validation. Not that he needed any fucking shitty validation, especially some pompous stuck up bitch of an angel. Still, he thought it would be fun to talk to her. He can’t even remember what they had talked about, he probably flirted cause hey, a bitch is a bitch. He could hit that. 
But then she called him an asshole, those big eyes staring into his like she was reaching into his very soul, seeing every part of his being and evaluating him as less than good. 
Then he called a meeting with hell, giving a rather… mediocre reason, something he clearly made up and no one remembered. Only two attended the meeting and neither was about to discuss what transpired there. Well, Adam wasn’t about to tell anyone in heaven. Even Lute wasn’t permitted to come with. And Lucifer was too much of a recluse to tell much of anybody.
For his part, Lucifer played along the best he could. He despised when heaven called him to meetings, the feeling paired with anxiety when Adam was there. He went because he had to, but the anxiety was eating him up inside. 
His footsteps on the tile floor echoed through the embassy like gunshots, making him cringe. 
At first, he thought the meeting room would be empty. It was too quiet, and Adam was always too loud, his voice carrying throughout the building, but when he got there he didn’t hear Adam at all. And yet, when he opened the meeting room door, Adam was in fact there. He furrowed his brow at the sight of the man sitting quietly, reading a paper he had in front of him, pen idly tapping against the table. Lucifer frowned and took his seat, the scrape of the chair legs against the tile reverberating through the room. 
A few moments passed before Adam put his paper down, pen clasped between two fingers, and leaned back in his chair. 
“So… this should be a fun meeting for you.” He said, tone… very, very carefully even. It sent an eerie chill down his spine, his scowl deep. This was very unlike Adam, and it concerned him. It felt like something terrible was about to happen and he just didn’t know it yet.
“Right, and that would be because…”
“I am sitting my ass here in front of you, asking you to shit talk me.” Adam said, and Lucifer's mind stuttered for a moment, staring blankly at the first man as he scribbled something else on his paper and looked back up with that stupid mask of his. “Just, like, be fucking honest about it. I asked Lute first, she was a real bitch about it. Figured you’d also be a little bitch about it.”
There was a heavy pause. Lucifer stared at him, just as confused as before. Adam's mask glitches slightly before settling on irritation.
“...but why?”
Adam gave an exaggerated sigh, voice condescending like it had to be obvious and Lucifer was the stupid one for not getting it.
“Because! That fucking bitch! She called me an asshole. Me! And I was told she was chill to hang with. Fucking bullshit! Now I've got a point to prove! I can be fucking nice. I can be downright delightful! I'll fucking show her! So, dipshit, tell me what makes me an asshole.”
“There it is.” Lucifer said with an exhausted sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. He though a moment, a twisted sort of smile slowly spreading over his face. “How much time do we have?”
When Adam returned from his meeting, he was in an absolutely foul mood. His anger radiated off of him and affected everyone he passed like a fog of irritation. But he had his stupid fucking list, crumbled in his fist, ink smudged but still readable.
He would show that fucking stuck up bitch! He would be the most fucking delightful bastard in all of fucking creation, or fucking die trying!
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mcflymemes · 1 day
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PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 *  assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary
everything is a picture waiting for be taken.
you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.
are you hiding something?
i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!
i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.
i was eating those beans!
how the hell did you know about that photo?
always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.
you just don't listen, do you?
there's something weird going on with you.
you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.
after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.
not now. i'm contemplating shit.
are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!
i didn't have all the evidence at the time.
we all make decisions we regret.
i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.
i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.
it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.
nobody believes me anyway.
you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.
why the hell not?
i almost asked you to hang out.
you should have asked me.
maybe we're too much alike.
i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.
eat a dick, [name].
i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.
since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.
you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.
where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!
don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!
so you can't help me?
i told you before that i'll always believe you.
i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.
you're the bravest person i've ever known.
for every action, there's a reaction.
i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.
i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.
why do you want all your friends to die?
oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.
nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.
do not analyze me! i pay people for that.
hey, that's total slander!
you don't know shit about my father, or me.
you're all fucked!
everybody hates me.
[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.
i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.
you would have been cool to hang out with.
you might as well choose me.
i'm not perfect, okay?
you have talent, [name].
you don't have to push people out of your way.
thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.
do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?
nobody says we have to be friends.
everybody lies. no exceptions.
i came for all of you.
i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.
no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.
i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.
just tell me you do have the photograph.
now shut up and listen.
i'm not a real scientist.
i was just happy just being your friend.
[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.
i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.
everybody pretends to care until they don't.
even angels need angels, [name].
i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.
why did you stop me from jumping?
this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.
when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.
i keep going back in time.
how could there be a more important moment in history?
thank you for trusting me.
hey... be careful out there.
what kind of friend are you?
you never understood me, or what happened to me.
i'll always be alone, thanks to you.
just in case we don't get out of this...
i'm going to make the right choices from now on.
i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.
i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.
i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.
if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.
i just feel like escaping.
i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.
with great power comes great bullshit.
am i pushing myself too hard?
you like to hurt people, huh?
i'm glad you decided to escort me.
i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?
of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.
i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.
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moyazaika · 2 days
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SLASHER.
Being a slasher isn’t as fun as some people think, at least not for me. I’m not a fan of the screaming, the blood, the mess, the chase, the effort, the news reports about my murders, none of it. I just want to kill bastards who have done horrible things and move on with my life, under the radar.
Look. I get it. People with my murderous hobby send to be sadistic maniacs who love to chase and torment their victims. I don’t. I just go into their house, or wherever they are while they are sleeping and kill them. My method depends on the day and where they are. If they are sleeping next to someone else (spouse, roommate, or other) I’ll either wait until they get up to go to the bathroom or I’ll silently suffocate them or slit their throat. If they are sleeping along and no one else is around I’ll shoot them. And so on and so forth. 
My mask is pretty simple. A black mask with red mesh eye holes, they used to be white but with all the blood that it’s been covered in I can’t get the stains out anymore. My general slasher outfit is just an all black outfit that covers every inch of my skin. No dna and all that.
I don’t really fall into the slasher category where people are like “I could have never predicted this! They were such a great person!”. And it’s not because I give off murderer vibes…..at least not that I know of….it’s just because I don’t talk to people so there isn’t anyone to tell that to the police. 
I go outside, but I don’t go outside to make friends. I go out to buy food, clothes, make money, etc.
I’m not scared of people, for fucks sake I kill people, people are scared of me, not the other way around. I’m just……easily disappointed with my peers. I understand it’s hard to be a good person at times, and it’s not really my place to tell people how to be a good person when I kill someone every Saturday, but people should at least have the decency to not betray someone.
Some people are also WAY too loyal to their friends. Friends that say they would be their bestie’s alibi if they committed a crime, maybe even help hide the evidence.
I don’t want that type of friend. 
If I had a friend, I don’t want them lying for me. I don’t want them risking getting into legal trouble because of me. If they were to find out I was a slasher I want them to go to the police and report me. Doesn’t matter if they do or do not have evidence, report it. Even if I don’t’ get caught through that report I want them to report it. 
…I don’t really understand myself to be honest.
I have morals.
I have a consciousness.
I just……am detached from them at times.
Even when I talk about caring about my hypothetical friend…not wanting them to get in trouble with the police…I don’t really care…I just say and act like I do because I should care.
…I don’t really know if I’m a good or bad person anymore.
…I don’t even know why I’m writing this….what’s the point?...Despite what those articles say about journaling to get to know yourself better….nothing has changed….i’m just as detached as I was before….even talking about this isn’t completely true. I almost feel sad….but not really. It’s like I can touch the sadness through a glass barrier, but it never is truly touching me……I guess it doesn’t’ really matter. I’m not unhappy with my life, so I don’t see any reason to fix it.
The rich bastard I planned on killing woke up right before I stabbed him in the neck, so now I’m stuck chasing him around his mansion. He keeps screaming for his staff, calling them “lazy worthless idiots” and “good for nothings”. I started to wonder if I even had to pay them off to not help him. It wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination to think that they just “didn’t hear anything” the night he died.
He ran around a corner but fell down before he could get out of my sight. Well, fell down wasn’t accurate since a second later I saw a man with his own mask on standing over him, clearly having pushed him.  He got on top of the man and started stabbing him. He screamed and the blood from his body started leaking and spread out on the floor. I took a few steps back so it wouldn’t get on my shoes, it’s a pain washing off blood.
When the new guy was done he sat on his legs and looked at me.
“oh….sorry…..didn’t know someone else was after him” he had a very monotone voice. I couldn’t tell if he really meant what he said or if he was trying to mock me.
“…it’s fine…..there were probably more people than just the two of us who were after him”
He nods and looks at the dead body.
“do you collect body parts or is he free game for me?”
“take whatever you like, I don’t like messes.”
He chuckled a little and lifted his knife towards the body. I walked away, hearing some of the cutting noises.
I keep seeing the new guy around the places I kill. Maybe he likes the area because I’m not killing him for killing in my territory like some other slashers. I don’t’ really care who kills in my area. A dead bastard is a dead bastard, I don’t really care if I killed them or someone else did. If anything I prefer if someone else does since I don’t have to clean anything.
“so….when did you start killing?”
“sir, I don’t kill people, and I’m insulted you think that.” I said with anger in my voice.
I don’t know how, but the police apparently have some evidence against me. But they aren’t good cops either, my luck is truly magical. 
The detective is clearly new. He walked in with his head held high and a superiority complex. When he looked at you, you knew he saw you as nothing but a stupid criminal that would get him a raise if he got you sentenced. But like all men with that type of ego, they lack something to actually back that up. It’s nothing but an act to try and make themselves feel more important than they actually are.
“listen, sweetheart, we all know you do, so it’s best if you tell us the truth. I don’t think you’re a cold blooded monster, something must have happened in your past that would have forced you to do this.” 
He spoke with that tone that you hear when a person tries to fake understanding. A slow speech with a fake sympathetic pitch.
This goes on for a while. The man doing a pathetic job at whatever he was trying to do.
It’s no wonder they haven’t caught me if this joke is on the team.
They planned to keep me in a cell for the night while they try to find enough evidence that would justify keeping me, but they get a call before they do that.
“it’s your lucky day, sweetheart, a friend of yours is picking you up. I’d cherish that if I were you, your days as a free woman are limited now that I’m on your tail.”
He smiled. Clearly thinking that everything he says is worthy of being quoted.
I don’t say anything.
A friend?
They walk me out the police station, a man waiting outside there…for me.
The two men guiding me smile at the man, not happy that he was the reason they had to release me, before patting me on the shoulder firmly and walking away.
“hello, again”
Oh…..it’s him…….
He didn't look like how I thought he would. I was expecting a man with dark hair, bored eyes, maybe a piercing or something.
Instead he looked like the son a mom would brag about being on the football team. Tan skin, blonde hair, blue eyes, if I had to take a guess his name is Chad.
A disappointment honestly.
...
How the fuck does he know who I am? 
How the fuck did he know I was here?
How the-
“hi….again” I say back.
He walked away to a car that was parked closest to the police station entrance and opened the door for me. I got in. Being a slasher has the perks of not worrying about your safety a lot.
He got in after and started driving.
“it’s honestly insulting that you got caught by a team that bad”
“they didn’t “catch” me. They just got a lucky lead and are trying to connect it with me. They had me there for four hours, and didn’t have a lick of proper evidence against me.”
He chuckled.
“……”
“..what? silent all of a sudden? You playing your “I have the right to remain silent” card with me?”
“ you sent in that lead…didn’t you?”
“…..”
I squinted at him in disgust. Even slashers can’t keep their fucking mouths shut.
“now, don’t get angry with me, pretty girl, let’s make a deal, hmm?” he smirked.
He mistakenly took my silence as an invitation to continue, but I wasn’t having it. I wasn’t listening to another word coming out of his mouth.
“the deal is quite simp-“
I opened the car door and jumped out. I landed hard on the pavement and got scratched up quite a bit, but nothing serious. It helps to have slasher plot armor. It’s quite hard to kill us.
I heard the car come to screeching stop, but he was already too late. I ran away, and got out of view.
I knew I’d see him again later. Just because the police were on to me didn’t mean I would stop killing, nor would I move to a different area.
Being a slasher is more work than it’s worth sometimes. 
-✨🥐anon (sorry for any typos! Forgot that I teased this to you and forgot about it, so I haven't really read this since.)
LOL when darling would rather jump out of the car than hear him out 😭😭
also the “it helps to have plot armour” line tooK ME OUTTHSHH i hope one day i can be a fraction as funny as your darlings are 💔💔
this is such a fantastic idea, and something new compared to the usual slasher x final girl trope yk?
thank you for sending this in! good stuff as always :)
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undeadgf · 2 days
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You're speaking to E
Summary: Calling the phone hotline is the best thing you've ever done
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Warnings: none for this chapter. Smut in future chapters.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
AN: this is reupload from my old blog! Part 2 coming soon
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You feel so nervous looking at the scrap of paper in your hand, which contains a phone number to a sex hotline. You found it while out at a sketchy bar with your friends, an ad taped up on the bathroom wall with little tear off phone numbers.
Looking for a fun and sexy time? Our phone operators will give you that, no judgement - $15 for 30 minutes. 30 minute minimum call time, all calls over or under will be rounded up.
You'd torn the strip with the number off and stuffed it into your bag before rejoining your friends.
You are the only one of your friends with zero experience, a virgin in every possible way, and it always leaves you feeling left out. They always talk about their boyfriends or hookups, and you are always left to just listen, having nothing to contribute.
Fuck it you think and dial the number and listen to it ring.
"Hi, Little Devils phone agency. How can I assist you today?" A friendly voice asks.
"Um...I've never done this before, so I'm not sure what I'm looking for." You answer shyly and unsure into the phone.
"No worries, sugar. Have you got any things you aren't into? Any kinks?"
"I-I don't know."
"Oh, I know just who to set you up with. He's great with first-timers like yourself. I'll patch you through, honey."
You listen to a click, and then a new dial tone starts up, and you feel yourself getting nervous.
This was a mistake. I should just hang up.
You go to move the phone from your ear when you hear his voice.
"Hello, what can I help you with today?" A sultry voice comes through the phone, and you practically melt.
"Um, hi.. I've never done this before.. I'm not too sure." You stammer out.
"Not to worry, baby, don't be nervous. Can you tell me what you've done and anything you're into?" He questions, his voice kind but still seductive.
"N-Nothing... uh I don't know."
"Shit, honey. Are you a virgin?" He hears you let out a squeak of confirmation, "I got you, I can make you feel really good if you'll let me? Want me to take care of you?"
"Yes, please." You squeeze your thighs together, his voice affecting you.
"Such a good girl." He praises.
"How about you touch yourself for me? Trail your hand down into your cute panties for me." He instructs you, and you freeze up.
He notices your hesitation.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to." He soothes.
"I'm just nervous..." You trail off, feeling like you're wasting his time.
"We can just talk if you want, sweetheart. You have to pay for 30 minutes and we're only 3 minutes in."
"That sounds nice. What's your name?" You want to know about him. Doing these things with a complete stranger feels strange to you.
"We're not allowed to tell, company policy for safety, but you can call me E." He tells you.
"Like Edmund?" You question, and he laughs.
"Close but not quite baby. What's your name?"
You introduce yourself, and he compliments your name, and you feel yourself blushing. He asks you some more about yourself, and you find yourself essentially playing 21 questions.
You mention a place in your town and find that you and E must live fairly close to each other because he knows it. You also find out he's a few years older than you and really into the metal scene.
He's so funny and he makes you feel so seen, you almost forget why you're on the phone to him anyway.
You find yourself telling him things you've never told anyone before, including how you feel insecure about your body.
"I'm sure you're beautiful, baby." He tells you and then curses, "we're coming up to 30 minutes. If you don't want to be charged more, we'll have to wrap it up here."
"Can I call you again?" You find yourself asking.
"Of course, just ask for connection 467, and you'll get put through to me." He tells you, "talk to you later then?"
"Talk to you later, E. Goodbye." You hang up and lay on your bed.
You didn't achieve what you hoped to today, but you can't help but feel hopeful that E is the perfect person to help you and make you feel comfortable too. Maybe the next call.
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thatbxolivia · 2 days
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summary- daddy!vader x little!reader vader has a bad pain day and little!reader just wants to help :(
without any hesitation, he told you no. that was just his thing, you guessed.
no, you can’t be that way. you’re too little.
no, you can’t do that. you’re too little.
no, you can’t help me. you’re too little.
all of these phrases usually brought you comfort. his acknowledgement of your headspace was validating and usually made you feel more secure. today was different. today, he was almost in too much pain. so much he could barely function. he tried to hide it, but you were regressed, not stupid. anyone could see the distress he was in.
“daddy, please let me help you.” you pleaded, not wanting him hurt. you didn’t mind helping, so why did he mind so much?
“no, it’s my job to take care of you, not the other way around.” he spoke through the mask, unable to take it off. he sat in his throne, and you stood beside him. you couldn’t even sit in his lap without hurting him. he tried to hide it, but again, you weren’t stupid.
“that’s not true. it’s both of our jobs to take care of each other.” you said, kneeling on the ground and resting your head very lightly on his knee. “i can help, too… i’m not helpless, daddy. let me help you.”
“i know you’re not helpless,” he sighed. “i would never think so little of you.”
“then let me do my part.”
“i’m supposed to be the one who cares for you-“
“no, i said we take care of each other. so sometimes that means i help you when you can’t help yourself. just let me, please.” you begged, giving him puppy dog eyes.
“this conversation is over, little one.” he told you, getting up. you could tell it hurt him but he refused to make a single sound. it broke your heart as he walked by you. he turned around and held his hand out. “please, come with me.”
“i can’t stand to see you hurt.” you said, crying. you stayed on the floor, kneeling, and looking at the now empty throne. he should be sitting. resting. taking it slow. he never gives himself the same grace he extends to you and it’s always upset you. but today, this was something fierce. you were angry. “stop hiding from me! at the end of the day, you’re not just my ‘daddy’. you’re my partner and i’m here to help you, so fucking let me help you!” you yelled. he looked down and sighed, turning his hands into fists.
“he says it’s weak.” was all daddy spoke. he didn’t need to name anyone, you knew it was the emperor.
“he’s the one who’s weak!” you shouted, earning an immediate “shush” from your daddy.
“quiet! do you want the entire empire thinking you’re against us?!” he questioned.
“i’m sorry,” you whispered. “but having the strength to recognize when your body needs a rest is anything but weak. he’s wrong.” you finished. “please let me help you. you’re in the dark right now and i can bring you back into the light.”
“you are the light.” he said.
“please rest.” you said, moved by his words and hoping you were getting close to convincing him. he turned to you and sighed again, accepting defeat. you already had convinced him.
“i don’t know how.” he admitted.
“you can use your bacta tank.” you suggested.
“i hate not being needed-“
“i need you more than ever. i know you need me as much as i need you. i’m not going anywhere, like you always say.” you reassured him. “daddy, please go to the tank. i don’t like seeing you in pain, if it were me, you’d demand i rest. why don’t you get the same grace?” you asked, speaking aloud your earlier thoughts.
“i don’t know.” he admitted. you’d expected a snide remark or maybe a quip about how he was your daddy and you were just a baby. but no, the truth was, he didn’t know.
“we can talk more about it later.” you said, picking up on the fact he did not want to speak now. you picked up the tablet and typed on it, sending in service droids to help him with the bath. “right now, you need rest.” you said as you set the tablet back down.
“my love?”
“yes?”
“will… you wait with me?”
“i’d love to, daddy.” you smiled. you walked back with him as the droids followed, hovering behind you.
as you entered the room where his tank was, you were reminded of the last time you were in here. when you had been taken and daddy came to rescue you. you had been seriously injured and he’d put you in his tank, waiting by you for seven hours as you healed. you’d happily do the same now for him.
in the distance, your daddy was already getting ready. you gasped in horror as the machines ripped off the limbs and tore off his suit and you finally heard him cry out in pain.
“stop! stop!!!” you cried out, the droids responding and shutting down.
“they have to finish.” he said, legs still attached and grunting in pain.
“like that?! make them more gentle!” you suggested and he shook his head, smiling sadly at you.
“the emperor has them locked. i can’t change anything.” he said. “resume.” the droids powered back up and began roughly taking off the legs, his pained noises continuing. you grunted and kicked the floor, this was so unfair. you heard his cries stop and just heavy breathing for a few moments. you turned around as they put an oxygen mask on him, lifting him to put him in the tank. as he entered, you felt something prodding around in your mind.
him.
can you feel me?
“daddy?”
you don’t have to speak.
you nodded and sat on the floor, by where his feet would be, and sighed, pressing your head on the cool glass. the droids made their exit and you were left with the controls of the tank. you began crying, thinking unfair he always had to be in pain.
please don’t cry.
“i can’t not cry, daddy. i’m so sad.” you said, opting to speak. you sniffled and wiped at your tears, trying to toughen up, but it wasn’t working.
you’d sit here as long as he needed you to. you’d do anything for him. he gets to have his grand moments where he confesses his love for you and all the things he’d do to keep you safe and the truth was, you’d do the same and more for him. so, that’s why you felt so helpless that he was in pain, and his only option was a bacta tank, breathing through water with a mask like he was some kind of sea creature on display. it wasn’t fair.
calm your mind, little one.
“daddy, it’s hard. everything is so unfair!” you cried. you could feel his pain and sadness and it was overwhelming.
i don’t want to hide from you anymore. this is the reality. if you don’t want it, i’ll understand.
“i want it if it means i keep you, daddy.” you whined. “i’ll take whatever comes with you.” you said.
you are the only light in my life.
the words rang in your head and you knew the importance of them, especially coming from him.
“as you are in mine.” you whispered, calming down. “i’ll stay with you forever.”
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#i hate that i'm like this but the girl we're hosting used my mug and it makes me irrationally angry#like#i didn't ever tell her ''hey don't use this mug because i have my own stuff and i don't like cross contaminating''#so i KNOW i have no right to be angry#and it coooouuld have been one of my family members who used it but i doubt it because they know i don't like sharing mugs and glasses etc#but either way this is just a symptom of how chaotic i feel in my own house and i hate myself for being like this#i never say anything because i KNOW its crazy people talk to be like ''hey that's my seat. why? because i always sit there and like it?''#and i know it doesn't affect anyone how the spoons are organized and how the plates are stacked and where the pots are stored#but its just infuriating to see things in places where (in my mind system) they don't go#i know it's the autism but that has never found me any sort of sympathy in my family (diagnosis or no diagnosis) so i can't say that#and if i skirt around it and say ''i like things a certain way and not having them like that causes me severe emotional distress''#it makes me seem controlling and abusive (which are things my mom has implied i am when i explain these things to her)#i know the real reason for these issues isn't our guest but also at this point she isn't our fucking guest because SHE'S BEEN HERE A MONTH#and she is clearly overstaying her welcome imo#i don't say anything because i'm not a mean person but i'm sure everyone around me can tell i'm stressed about something#i just need my space back but i don't even feel like i have a claim over that cuz mexican families are full of the ''my house my rules'' bs#which is untrue because a) the house isn't even owned by my parents anymore#(they made some stupid financial choices years ago and my uncle had to buy the house from them or risk foreclosure)#and b) we're all adults (except my brother obviously) and we all contribute however we can#so i should have some say in how i feel if i'm living here imo#and i am trying to make money however i can so i can move out soon#but just going out twice a week has me like this i can't imagine working a traditional job atm#(i did apply for a grant for autistic people of color so hopefully something will come of that)#anyways that was my rant i'm just really stressed and constantly on the brink of a meltdown#it's not this random girls fault#she just happens to be the final drop in my very very small bucket very often these days#(y'know because she's a fucking stranger in my house and i hate having to mask in my own home idk i'm awful i probably won't post this)
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weirdlizard26 · 11 days
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grbrggbfrgbbffbrg
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pepprs · 10 months
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prefacing this by saying im fine and its whatever and im mostly numb to it. but it kinda fucking sucks that being gaslit about my own sexuality leads to… doubting my own sexuality lol!
#purrs#just went to my first ever lavender graduation ceremony and had a convo w my dad after that touched on the EXACT horrors lol like i need to#learn to not bring this shit up around my parents bc they’re just gonna say the same things. and also it doesn’t matter bc idc about labels#and (to quote ricky) it’s a conversation not a constant. but like fucking hell. just bc ive never ‘’’’’’been with anybody’’’’’’ doesn’t#mean that i can’t know im not straight. the HORRIFIC psychic damage that did to me 5 years ago this month. the way i can’t think about#sexuality or being part of the lgbtq community since and like before then when that happened i thought i was a lesbian and was gonna try to#get involved with the school lgbtq student union . like it’s so ficking stupid and sad. and i can’t trust myself anymore i can’t tell if#anything ive ever felt for anyone is actually real bc according to my (straight and biphobic) parents ‘crushes don’t count’ and i haven’t#even had a crush in months anyway and yeah ive never ‘been with’ anybody. but like god damn. you DO NOT get to tell me i have to call myself#questioning. yeah im questioning but only i can call it that and only if i want to. i get to know me. i get to call me what i am. which also#means i get to work through the years of psychic damage this thread of conversation coming from my own parents has done to me#but i own that. i want to own that. ive had the feelings i have had. maybe they were wrong and misplaced and maybe there are other ways to#interpret them like me jus t having projection issues and whatever. but they were real to me and are real to me and shape how i show up#every single day. i get to know myself. i get to call myself what i am. even though you’re my parents you don’t get to tell me that. and you#should be sorry for how fucked in the head this has made me and how cut off i have become from other people who have felt what i have felt#and from the parts of myself that felt and hurt and loved. like lolllll. i was in a good mood and then that happened and now my heart hurts.#delete later#like i don’t talk abt this shit anymore for a reason 🤪✌️ i am not involved in lgbtq groups or communities online or offline for a reason 🤪✌️#and it’s yet another manifestation of impostor syndrome too like. ppl wonder why im like this…. there is a very good reason 💖
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finalhaunts · 1 year
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#.txt#fuck man.#thinking about my ex. agh.#i dont know how i feel about things i guess#ive moved on and im happy he’s happy /gen but also whenever I think about him I just get so upset#I guess I’m just wondering what I did wrong. its been over a year and im still just so upset whenever i think about it#because it had been nearly two years since we got together and he just. broke up with me out of the blue.#and I never got an explanation as to why. even when I asked he didn’t tell me#and part of me is thinking ‘’well i should just respect whether he wants to say or not’’ but at the same time don’t I deserve some closure?#he said it wasn’t because of her at least. but part of me can’t help thinking he left me because he was happier with her.#I feel like maybe I was just too much. and thats why he left.#im too anxious and too paranoid and too scared whenever i enter a relationship because i don’t want to do something unforgivable.#i dont want to hurt anyone. that’s the last thing i want. I don’t want to push anyone away.#and im hurt that it didnt work out and i want to know what I did wrong but#at the same time i feel like im. happier. now that im out of that relationship#he wssnt a bad guy and he still isnt /gen. i just. i dont know#looking back on the relationship i don’t feel like i was happy. and once we broke it off we drifted apart quickly#and even if he didnt do anything wrong i feel Very uncomfortable over the thought of us interacting again. even just as mutuals or whatever#I think I’ve honestly just given up on trying to find love. its never worked out for me#ill just stick to the fictional ones. thanks.#also if anyone readjng has any clue who this js please dont mention it#this isnt like. a callout or me trying to smear him or whatever he’s genuinely a great guy#im just. having a lot of mixed emotions. even after so long.#vent
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entropyunending · 9 months
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babygirl there is absolutely nothing normal about my emotions. i can blow up at the littlest of things and feel like everyone hates me at the tiniest hint of rejection like you wouldn't BELIEVE
#🔪#god i just want to have normal reactions to things#especially when i have to fucking internalize every explosive reaction i have#i have to just disappear or pretend everything is fine or literally just stop saying a single word#because otherwise i will blow up on people and i will fuck everything up#and i will ruin relationships because of my own emotions that i can't control and have a mind of their own#i know internalizing them isn't what i should do but what other option do i have?#i can't talk about them. i can't let them show.#because they are overreactions#and it's not anyone's fault#i can't tell them how awful they make me feel because they are literally not at fault at all#they're not doing a single thing wrong but my brain is overreacting and perceiving that they are#even though i KNOW they aren't#so why the fuck would i tell them that their perfectly normal actions are making me feel like everyone hates me#that's not a normal or okay reaction to have#especially when all that happened was they just gave the same one word response multiple times in a row when i was talking about something#and i perceived that to mean that they didn't care at all about what i was saying#and that i'm annoying and should just shut the fuck up and never talk about anything i'm excited about or like ever again#because no one wants to actually hear it and all i will do is annoy everyone#like that's. not a normal reaction to have and it's completely unjustified so i can't just. say that.
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sutorus · 6 months
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✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS
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DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe
FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!
A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys
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GOJO SATORU
has way too many hoes. way too many
so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”
has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper
says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it
throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you
takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad
pays for your ubers everywhere every time
into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed
lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further
very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d
gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something
fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!
GETO SUGURU
keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience
too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck
even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble
answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers
he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(
cleans you up after sex and brings you water
has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag
lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you
never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy
genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky
in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are
not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you
likes to make you cum over and over and over again
fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it
NANAMI KENTO
a professional in every sense of the word
uses sex as stress relief
thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you
invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up
can actually have very nice conversations with you
never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship
lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics
does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”
texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is
gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to
eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you
the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot
has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings
fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right
FUSHIGURO TOJI
broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him
absolutely nasty sex
you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you
dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom
wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity
eats his cum right out of you
ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles
loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep
doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics
has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why
has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after
no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit
loves it if you cry on his dick
doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own
has never told you his last name
one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes
fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much
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a/n sorry
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my love if i may request a whiskey with dbf!joel or dbf!bucky with the prompt “i’ve wanted this for so long” and mayhaps if it’s not too much to ask for but some breeding kink👀👉🏻👈🏻
Promises, Promises.
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warnings - smut. cursing.
I figured I'd make this dbf!bucky, because i've done a dbf!joel fic for this celebration already. y'all, I read the words dad's best friend and go fucking feral. this one got away from me.
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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You're the last person Bucky expected to be at his front door at 3am.
"What's wrong, honey?"
"Locked myself out of my goddamn house, and my parents are still on vacation. Can I crash here tonight? Please?"
Who is he to turn down an offer that tempting?
"Course. Come on, it's too cold for you to be stood out here."
The two of you sit down on his couch, settling in to watch some TV.
"Bucky Barnes. Are you watching a romcom?"
He blushes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks.
"If you tell anyone, I'll kill you. They're my guilty pleasure."
"It makes me like you more, if anything," you grin. He can't help but smile back at you, less embarrassed now.
"Look, my love life is fuckin' terrible. I live vicariously through these cheesy films right now."
"You? Terrible love life? Those two phrases don't usually go in the same sentence."
You're teasing him. Seeing if you can get a rise, hit the right button.
"Oh, shut it. Just because you're on a new date every week."
"I'm... what?"
"Your Dad seems to think you're dating a lot."
You quirk a brow at him, amusement curling at the corners of your lips.
"Is that so?"
"I'm only telling you what I've heard, honey."
He crosses his arms across his chest, biceps threatening to break free from the confines of his t shirt.
"He's wrong."
"Is that so?"
You roll your eyes.
"I have a friend, he's a guy. My Dad automatically assumes we're dating because we hang out. But we're not."
"And why not?"
"I don't know, I guess he's just..." you debate your answer, realising it's now or never. "He's not old enough for me. Not mature enough."
Bucky bites his lip, eyes scanning your face.
"He's your age."
"Exactly. Boys my age don't know shit."
He laughs, but it's dark and low, something brewing beneath the surface.
"You always were too smart for your own good, huh?"
Bucky's thigh is pressing into yours, the warmth from his skin seeping through. His rough fingertips glide across your arm, slow and soft. He's testing the waters.
"I shouldn't want this," he murmurs, barely audible. "Neither should you."
"But I do," you whisper. "So fucking bad."
"Me too."
Bucky grabs the back of your neck, smashing his lips to yours. You grip at his hair, his biceps, his shirt - anything you can get a hold of. You feel like you're dreaming, your filthiest thoughts coming into fruition.
He pulls you into his lap so you're straddling his hips, grinding down and panting into his mouth. You're both breathless, but neither of you want to be the first to pull away.
Bucky rips your shirt over your head, instantly attacking your chest with kisses. He's marking you up, claiming you as his. You should be worried about the repercussions, but you're not.
You pull his shirt off and rake your nails down his front, grinning when he shivers. Suddenly, Bucky stands up, setting you on your feet.
"Strip."
You blink at him, processing.
"Strip, baby. I won't tell you again."
You shimmy your pants down your legs, your underwear going too. Your mouth waters as you watch him undress, admiring the angles and smooth ridges of him. A Greek God.
Bucky stalks over to you and hooks a foot behind your ankle, sending you both flying onto the rug on the floor. He cushions your fall, not letting go of you once. Running two fingers through your wet heat, he groans.
"All for me, pretty girl? What did I do to deserve somethin' this sweet, huh?"
"Need you," you whine. "Please, Buck."
"I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs, lining himself up. "Fuck, you're a dream."
You both gasp as he slides home, your back arching and his jaw falling slack. Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, the weight grounding you back down to Earth.
"Need you to move," you choke out. "Fuck, I need it, Buck. Please."
"Oh you need it, do you?" he smirks. "My needy girl."
He snaps his hips into yours in long, careful glides, very aware of the effect he has on you. Before long, his restraint snaps, and his thrusts get harder, quicker, more frantic.
"Gonna fill you up, baby," he's muttering under his breath. "Make you mine. You want that? To have everyone know who you belong to?"
You're nodding rapidly, tears gathering in your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
"How are we gonna keep this a secret if you're pregnant, huh?"
The thought makes you moan, a breathy, gutteral sound.
"You like that? Want me to make you a mommy? Fuck, I'll give you everything you ask for. I'll buy you a house and knock you up, you'll never want for anything."
His low, honeyed words throw you over the edge, squeezing and clenching around him. Bucky groans, deep and rumbled, the sound vibrating through the both of you. You find your releases together, panting and out of breath.
"House first."
"Huh?" he breathes, raising his head from your chest.
"Buy me a house first. Kids second. Maybe marriage in between."
He laughs, floating and content. You both know he meant what he said, not just a heat of the moment confession.
You stay wrapped up in each other for hours, on the rug in front of the fire.
You'll deal with the repercussions later.
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ateez as pirates who fall for you (hyung line)
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for hongjoong), fluff, angst, crack, and as always - a brainrot of every pirate trope to exist
length: 10.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, ransoming, verbal abuse, abduction), alcohol, pet names
a/n: maknae line will come yes but who knows when 🤷‍♀️ work has been really testing my dopamine vibes this year 😔👎 thank you @sorryimananti-romantic for keeping a detailed hitlist for me ♡
hongjoong
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pov: you're a royal princess rescued by him
“captain, are you sure we can’t toss her overboard?”
jongho and hongjoong watch as wooyoung’s face falls after you pointedly ignore his attempts to make conversation once again
for someone who is technically their guest aboard the arriba, it seems as though you are hellbent on being as difficult as you can be
“unfortunately, we can’t,” hongjoong grouches to the younger, “not unless we want to exchange our payment for a hefty bounty on our own heads”
when jongho sighs, the captain squeezes his shoulder in comfort and adds on, “trust me, i’ve thought about it too”
hongjoong and his crew are privateers - pirates in theory, but technically excused so long as they have their letter of marque to state that they are authorised to attack other vessels
rescuing a royal princess was never explicitly part of the contract, although he thinks that not rescuing you would have pretty much been equivalent to a blatant show of insubordination
you had been taken ransom by one of the merchant ships the arriba had been plundering
needless to say, they had been close to tossing you overboard too; your kingdom had never paid for your ransom
the lack of response from your parents wasn’t anything you weren’t expecting but it’s a sore spot nonetheless
so it’s certainly hard for you to play friendly when you’re quite literally shucked off from stranger to stranger faster than a hot potato
san tugs wooyoung closer towards him and gently says to you, “he’s just trying to be nice - we all are”
the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you
“i don’t need your pity,” you answer, the only sentence you have spoken today
you’ve lived two decades of your life pretending you don’t see the pitying gazes of your maids and butlers
you certainly don’t need pity from these people - pirates no less
“it’s not-” wooyoung starts to say
but the captain steps in before he can defend himself
“if this is how you’re always acting, i’m starting to see why your kingdom never paid for your ransom”
had hongjoong been less preoccupied by your words, he would have realised that your tone is candid, as if it is only natural for the people around you to pity you
but he’s clouded with his mindset as captain, unable to stand by idly while his own crew put up with your attitude, and so the words come out anyway - shards of shrapnel that bury themselves into your heart
there is only a fleeting second when your eyes dilate with hurt
you conceal it immediately, replacing it with a steely gaze, yet the image has already seared itself into hongjoong’s mind
“maybe you should throw me overboard, then,” you counter, “i’m sure my family will thank you for it”
and even if you have completely neutralised your expression, no one misses the wounded tone of your voice before you disappear down into the lower deck
mingi lets out a low whistle after the resounding slam of the hatch closing
“you fucked up, captain”
hongjoong doesn’t need anyone to spell it out for him
the heavy feeling in his stomach is telling enough
it isn’t until the moon has long since risen that you emerge through the hatch again
you had bypassed the sleeping quarters to the hold, wedging yourself between barrels of grain until you were sure no one would find you
not that they would have tried to anyway - seonghwa had told them all to give you some space
you had run your finger up and down the sides of the barrels repetitively for hours on end, mind simultaneously void and filled with thoughts
the walls you had built around yourself kept you safe, but it had started to become awfully lonely after a while
when it had become a little too suffocating in the hold and you guessed that most of the crew was asleep, you had softly padded back up the stairs and across the main deck
you now sit on the foredeck where the endless expanse of the sea stretches out in front of you, closing your eyes and letting the swaying of the ship lull you into tranquillity
tonight, the moon winks down fondly upon the waters
hongjoong watches you from the quarterdeck
he’s seen you sit at the front of the ship on many nights when you should really have been asleep
he wonders if you’ve always looked so small and fragile with your knees drawn up to your chest, or whether it’s because the flash of hurt in your eyes and voice is still fresh in his mind
“go, captain,” yunho murmurs from where he’s at the helm, “it’s a quiet night”
hongjoong startles at having been caught gazing, clearing his throat and dragging his eyes away
“why should i, if she’s just going to ignore me?” he scoffs
but he knows he’s just being petty at this point and his chest churns in agreement
“maybe,” yunho hums softly in response. “did seonghwa ever give up on you, though?”
it’s rhetorical - hongjoong knows the answer better than anyone
the captain doesn’t say anything but after several beats of silence, he sighs and makes a move to the foredeck where you are
yunho smiles to himself
you and hongjoong may be more similar than his captain realises
your shoulders stiffen when the sound of hongjoong’s footsteps approaches
you’re not sure what to expect and you don’t exactly want to find out and risk getting hurt
but having spent all day swimming alone in your thoughts, you do want to show that you feel apologetic because admittedly, you were being an ass too
getting up to walk away when he’s taken the first step certainly won’t help your case
you hold your breath in awkward silence as he settles down beside you, leaving a respectable distance between your hunched figures
only now is hongjoong realising that he hasn’t actually thought about or decided on what he wants to say to you
but he can feel the confusion rolling off of you in waves, so he grits his teeth and says fuck it
“i won’t apologise for defending my crew, but i’m sorry for how i did it and for what i said”
he hopes you know he is sincere when he continues, “we all have our prickly edges. i can’t fault you for yours”
compassion is a foreign concept to you and so you’re a little stumped for words
hongjoong isn’t sure whether your silence is a good or bad thing, but you have yet to stand up and walk away from the conversation
“there’s only about a week left until we reach port and we’ll leave after you make it back to your kingdom and we receive our payment. i’m not asking for you to be friendly, but let’s at least be civil with each other until then,” he says
you want to nod, agree, anything
and yet you can’t seem to make your head move or the words to come out of your mouth
rome was not built in a day. but neither did its walls fall in a day
hongjoong doesn’t push for an answer when instead, you ask, “how many people have you actually tossed overboard before?”
he resists the urge to laugh at your question, suddenly endeared by the fact that you’re still bothered by his very empty threat
“none, but my offer still stands. you’re welcome to be my first,” he deadpans
you let out a snort and although you quickly turn your head away, hongjoong sees the hint of amusement in your eyes
no further words are exchanged between the two of you and you do not acknowledge him when he eventually stands to rejoin yunho at the helm
but it’s a start
and as with any relationship, be it friend, foe, or lover, there is always that
a beginning.
hongjoong isn’t really expecting much to change immediately so he doesn’t pay you much mind when you walk into the mess hall the following morning
you hesitate at the entrance when you see most of the crew are already present, the conversation you had with hongjoong last night replaying at the forefront of your mind
you chew on the inside of your mouth
wooyoung stops mid-conversation at the scrape of a plate on the table, looking up to find you sliding into the seat beside him with a tight-lipped smile
to your surprise, he greets you with enthusiasm and immediately drags you into the conversation
hongjoong watches as you slowly warm up and add one or two comments of your own in between bites of your hardtack
and when he catches your gaze after staring for too long, he gives you a smile to convey his appreciation; to acknowledge your efforts
you return it with a small smile of your own and unbeknownst to you, it stays on your face for the rest of the day
slowly, there become more and more reasons that elicit a smile out of you
you still sit out on the foredeck when everyone else has gone to sleep, but on most nights, hongjoong will join you even if just for a while
the two of you are content to sit side by side with nothing but the steady pulse of the ocean and intermittent creaks of the ship’s hull to break the silence of the night
tonight though, you find curiosity burning through you
“what’s it like?” you ask
“being a pirate?” he clarifies
you shrug vaguely, unsure yourself either, “being a pirate. being at sea. sailing with your crew”
he takes a moment to gather his thoughts - not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because there is too much he wants to say
when hongjoong answers, his voice rumbles softly from within his chest, tender and heartfelt
“there’s a sense of freedom that you can’t obtain when you’re bound to land and society. sailing the waters, the only limits are those of the open seas and of your own compass… the sunrises, the storms, the moonlight - it all becomes part of your home”
hongjoong leans back to rest on the palms of his hands, tilting his gaze up towards the twinkling sky
he reflects, “you experience brotherhood and gain a family that is worth multitudes more than the treasures you can accumulate, even if you were to live as a pirate for several lifetimes”
you’re enraptured by his words, like poetry that swirls off the pages of a book and drifts into your very soul
“i may be the captain of this crew, but they make me who i am. without them, i am nothing”
his words wash over you and unearth vivid memories
“that’s what the queen always says to me,” you reveal
a small smile starts to grace hongjoong’s face, but it falls just as quickly when he hears your next words
“that without her - without her title - i am nothing”
it’s funny, how the same phrase can hold such different meanings; can evoke such different emotions
you don’t elaborate any further, but hongjoong doesn’t think he needs you to in order for him to understand
he just wishes he had more time to show you that your mother is wrong
he can’t though
tomorrow they reach port and you will return to your rightful place in the palace
“tell me more about your crew,” you attempt to change the topic, “how did you all find each other?”
so hongjoong tells you
he talks for hours and hours and you listen all the while with a heavy heart, clinging onto his every word
on your final night, you two stay like that until the stars disappear and the horizon becomes streaked with the pale hues of sunrise
after the ship docks mere hours later, only hongjoong accompanies you to your kingdom after goodbyes are exchanged
wooyoung doesn’t take it well, and you find yourself holding back tears of your own as you are let through the palace doors with the captain by your side
but you blink them away when you approach the throne room because vulnerability is not an emotion you are willing to display
“y/n”
the queen addresses you curtly when you enter, and hongjoong wonders for a split second whether he has brought you back to the wrong kingdom
he knows your mother does not treat you fondly, but it’s still staggering to see it before his very own eyes
the monarch glances distastefully over him before her eyes flicker back to you
“i did not expect your return,” she states
your eyes remain impassive as you merely answer, “neither am i delighted to be back”
hongjoong recognises this look
he’s seen it when you first boarded his ship; he’s seen it when your hackles were raised
he’s seen it in himself, when he had been a teenager filled with nothing but growing resentment, before he had met seonghwa
your mother sneers, “then you should have made yourself useful and stayed with the pirates. as a whore or a dog, whatever it took.”
hongjoong has understood you since learning of your demons, but right now, he is you
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, standing before a couple who are his parents only by title
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, who doesn’t know what he has done that deems him undeserving of love
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, all alone with no one to take his hand
“or really, you should have died on the ship”
hongjoong is close enough to you to hear the small hitch in your breath at your mother’s final jab
he may not have had someone to save his younger self, but he can do that now
he can be the person he so desperately needed years ago
and so he does just that.
hongjoong grabs your hand and drags you out of the palace
no one stops the two of you from leaving and he is unsure whether his heart hurts for you or sings with relief
you can only stutter in shock as you try to keep up, “hongjoong, what about your payment?”
his determined steps do not slow down, even as he looks back at you with a sure smile, “i told you before. some things are worth more than money”
the comforting squeeze of his hand conveys that you are worth more than any amount of money
the form of the arriba grows bigger in the distance and you think you can see the movement of excitement on deck when the crew spots your figures
hongjoong has slowed down his steps, but he has yet to let go of your hand
“and you deserve to know that. welcome to the crew, y/n”
to a family and love that you never had
you think you like the sound of that
“thank you, captain”
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seonghwa
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pov: you're a royal navy officer in disguise
you lay awake in your hammock, listening to the soft snores of the crew members around you
sleep doesn’t come easy to you anymore
particularly tonight
you contemplate whether it’s worth the risk to simply not show up
you know what the consequences are if they capture you - a slow and painful death - but you’re unsure whether you want to put ateez on the line too
your ship is currently docked for the night, having made a port stop at alcarres following one of the crew’s wishes to retire the pirate lifestyle and settle in the small town
their last night with ateez had been celebrated with sloshing rum and rowdy jigs, something you had found strange
there’s none of that in the royal navy
when one leaves, it is shameful and through one of three options only; old age, crippling injury, or…death
you had asked seonghwa, the quartermaster, why he and the captain were so accepting when crew members left as they wished
he had simply smiled and answered, “better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew”
his words are like a sharp stone in your shoe as you finally slip out of your hammock and make your way off the ship
as ordered, you head to the tavern addressed
you salute the person in front of you and ease into your seat with a formality only when he disregards you
“admiral jang”
“you’re late,” the royal navy officer raises an eyebrow
“sorry, sir. i had to make sure everyone was asleep”
it’s not exactly the truth, but no one needs to know that you had spent an hour in your hammock questioning your morality
he ignores your excuse, jesting as he asks of your captain, “has the pirate king found the chart’s whereabouts yet?”
the charts
centuries ago, a crew of experienced sailors had travelled the six great seas and created the original navigational charts
the charts had become scattered and lost over time, but its value only increased exponentially as more and more sailors became victims to the sea trying to map its waters to the same detail and accuracy as the original charts
of the six originals, only the whereabouts of five are known, with most of them within the possession of the royal navy
it’s rumoured that hongjoong - the pirate king - has his hands on two of them and is currently tracking down the lost chart of the aurorian sea
the only sea that has yet to be chartered after its original map due to its dangerous and unpredictable sailing conditions
you know that your next words can hold an inexplicable amount of possibilities
“not yet. the last lead didn’t get him anywhere. turned out the last of the ahn clan had passed a decade ago”
his lips flatten at the lack of worthwhile information
“where’s the captain headed to next, then?” he probes
for a split second, the thought of lying crosses your mind
you can’t provide a different location - it would be much too obvious and would raise immediate suspicions
but you could give him a different time frame
after all, it’s not uncommon for navigational routes to be one to two weeks off should the waters be unpredictable enough
you find the truth spilling out of you anyway once you’re looking into his stone-cold eyes
“vlasgar. in about three weeks’ time”
for a moment, time stands still as your heart pounds and you attempt to slow your breathing, the officer staring back at you calculatingly
then he finally hums in satisfaction
you think that he is going to dismiss you, but as you make a move to leave, he leans back in his seat
the split second of hesitation was enough
“remember where your loyalty lies, y/n”
the air feels cold with the underlying threat
seonghwa’s words flit through your mind
better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew
you swallow, “of course, admiral”
and then you’re dismissed with a nod
the unsettling feeling follows you all the way back to the ship and every miniscule creak of the floorboards underneath you seems to be amplified in the silence
you let out a short gasp of surprise when you’re about to climb back into your hammock, only to see seonghwa blinking blearily at you
“couldn’t sleep ‘gain?” he mumbles
you choke out a response, “yeah”
“i’ll make you tea b’fore you sleep ‘morrow,” his words slur with sleepiness
“okay,” you whisper
but you know it won’t make a difference
after all, there’s no remedy for guilt
it continues to fester the next day, as you linger outside the captain’s quarters
you can’t remember why you had come down to the lower deck, but it doesn’t matter now, not with seonghwa and the captain discussing what you think is related to the aurorian chart
“do you think he’s still in vlasgar?”
“min taesoo? it’s hard to say. but i’m sure he’ll have acquaintances still on the island who may have an idea of where he’s gone”
min taesoo
your brain tries to carefully file the name away, knowing that it’s what admiral jang would want to know, but at the same time, your heart tries to pretend it doesn’t know what you have heard so that you can forget about it
you find yourself scratching the name onto a scrap of paper anyway
unbeknownst to you, at the almost-imperceivable sound of your footsteps walking away, the two men behind the doors share a look
the crew sets sail again in the afternoon towards the next destination - vlasgar - and the scrap of paper in your pocket weighs you down so heavily that you feel off-kilter as you absentmindedly follow jongho up into the rigging to unfurl the sails
you’re near the top of the ropes when a sudden wave lurches the boat to starboard
it’s only a small push, really, but with your mind elsewhere, it catches you off guard and you miss your next step
the feeling of your hand dislodging from the sudden drag of your body weight brings you back to the present with a yell of surprise
(whether it’s your own or jongho’s, you can’t remember)
your sailing experience takes over and you try to swing your body back towards the safety of the rigging
you barely manage to grasp the ropes again but your hands slip down with your weight until they hit the next knot, the hot rush of friction threatening your grip
with adrenaline rushing through your body, you shakily climb back down, where there are several pairs of hands waiting to help you down the rest of the rigging
seonghwa’s hands do not leave you even after your feet are planted on the deck again
dread and shame heat the back of your neck and curl around onto your cheeks, knowing that a mistake like the one you had just made - accidental or not - would lead to a punishment like confinement in the lower deck back in the royal navy
except, when an apology starts to form on your lips, seonghwa bursts out in dismay
“y/n, your hands!”
you let out an unintelligible noise as seonghwa gently turns your palms over and you realise that the ropes have grazed some of the skin off
“it’s fine,” you want to say
but you’re silenced when he leads you to the small sick bay on the orlop deck
even if there is no surgeon on board, there is a small chest fastened to the wall that is home to their few and valuable medical supplies
you sit as he fusses over you with alcohol and strips of cloth
although he does a good job of wrapping your hands, your insides start to bleed with how intensely guilt eats away at you, like a maggot deep inside the core of a festering apple
that night as you shuffle towards your hammock to sleep, you flinch when you find seonghwa already sitting in his
he’s fighting the heaviness in his eyes as he carefully cradles something
upon seeing you, he wordlessly hands it to you with a sleepy smile before he finally sags into his own hammock with a content sigh
you look down and the warmth of it seems to burn through the padded dressing that the man before you has tenderly wrapped around your palms
the sensation travels upwards to burn your heart too
because in your hands is a cup of warm chamomile tea
and yet, despite the emptied cup, you find yourself unable to fall asleep
but in the darkness of the sky, with no witnesses other than the waves and sea foam themselves, a small piece of crumpled paper gets tossed overboard that night
the closer their ship approaches vlasgar, the more distant seonghwa notices you become
he worries
seonghwa thinks he worries for the reasons that he should be
he is the quartermaster; entrusted to protect the crew as the captain’s right-hand man
if that means ensuring no one will compromise the rest of his crew, even if it’s you, then so be it
that’s what he justifies to himself as he walks through the cobbled streets of vlasgar, slinking through the shadows as he follows your figure from a safe distance
(in reality, seonghwa worries for the reasons that he is not quite ready to admit yet)
he follows you into the dim bar of a tavern and carefully situates himself where he can watch over you without being discovered
he orders a mug of common ale as you approach someone
the man is dressed in civilian attire, but seonghwa can tell straight away from his demeanour and expression that he is not as ordinary as he appears
it’s confirmed when he hears you say, “admiral jang”
and then he sees it
the small but striking lapel pin on the breast of the man’s coat - the royal navy’s insignia
seonghwa feels for the sash that’s hidden underneath his own jacket and his fingertips meet the cool metal of the pistol tied inside
“you better have updates for me, y/n. what’s the pirate king’s purpose here in vlasgar?”
seonghwa knows he only has about five seconds to make a decision - one that could jeopardise the crew, or one that could jeopardise you
but you surprise yourself and the both of them when you answer steadfastly, “i don’t know, sir”
despite the din of drunker patrons in the tavern, it seems to fall deathly silent
“am i hearing wrong, officer?” the admiral questions with a disbelieving scoff
to your credit, your voice does not waver when you state again, “no, sir. i believe the captain and quartermaster are lying low. they have not revealed anything to me nor the rest of the crew”
seonghwa suddenly understands why you have distanced yourself
the admiral’s jaw tics
“is that so.”
you do not respond, only focusing on the spot between his raised eyebrows as he leans forward across the table
“where does your loyalty lie, y/n?”
neither the admiral nor seonghwa need to hear your answer to know the truth
a small crew may be outnumbered, but they have strength in loyalty and devotion
there’s a glint of movement from underneath the table as the admiral inches something out from his belt
seonghwa makes his decision
you flinch, eyes wide as there’s a deafening gunshot and the table beside you splinters and scatters the tankards of alcohol onto the floor
instantaneously, chaos erupts
there are drunken yells of fright and weapons clumsily brandished, tables upturned and chairs hurled across the room
it only takes one other misfired shot for the tavern to descend into hellfire as customers who were previously drinking together now turn on one another
nobody notices the two pirates dashing out, not even admiral jang, who is busy wrangling two inebriated men off his arms
your composure dissolves the moment you are dragged into an alleyway several streets away and you look up in shock to discover-
“seonghwa?! why are you here?”
“i could say the same about you,” he counters, hardly out of breath
you’re stunned by the fact that he seems completely unfazed by the mess that he has just dragged you out of
something clicks
“was that you? did you know all along?”
seonghwa smiles, “let’s just say you’re not as subtle as you think you are when you sneak around. plus, it’s uncommon for sailors to have the experience that you do without having had some sort of training”
you curse under your breath and wince, “does hongjoong know too?”
the quartermaster nods and you fear the answer to your next question
“then why has he not…why have you not…”
“killed you yet?” seonghwa chuckles. “i’m sure you’ve realised by now how skewed the royal navy’s beliefs are”
you’re quiet
the royal navy has always been cult-like in preaching the ruthlessness and barbarism of pirates, drilling into the officers the belief that pirates are the scum of the sea
but everything that you’ve known has been proven false since you’ve joined ateez; ironically, the pirates are more humane than the royal navy themself
their crew stand at attention whenever hongjoong or seonghwa walk onto the deck - not out of cultivated fear but genuine respect
when jongho is sore and tired from handling the riggings on a particularly rough and windy day, the others will offer to cover for his chores instead of flogging him into submission
and when mingi is divvying up the shares of the provisions and loot, the others will slip an extra bar of soap for seonghwa, the shiniest ring for mingi, or the largest bottle of rum for yunho, because they want to make each other happy
“hongjoong is the pirate king, yes, but a king should not take the lives of others for his own power. a true king uses his power to change the lives of others for the better…like yours…and like mine”
you frown with a jerk of your head
“what do you mean?”
you can’t see seonghwa as a broken man whatsoever
he gives you a weak smile, “i, too, used to be part of the royal navy”
your jaw drops
everything clicks into place - how he had figured out you weren’t just a common sailor and why he hadn’t confronted you about it
the shame and guilt come rushing back over you in a storm that is much too familiar by now
“i’m so sorry, all i’ve done is betray your trust-”
“but that’s what second chances are for, no?” seonghwa cuts you off, playfully flicking your forehead as he reminds you, “and i’m pretty sure you’ve chosen me over the royal navy”
your cheeks grow hot
“not you. the crew,” you mutter
he laughs and it’s a wonderful sound
“come on, it’s late,” seonghwa beckons. “let’s get some sleep”
when he sees that you’re still rooted to the spot, unsure whether you are deserving to go back, he decides for you and moves behind you to gently nudge you forward by the shoulders
you let him guide you
his hands are warm, you note, even through the linen of your shirt
his hands are also pretty, you observe, when he tries to fluff your hammock once you two have crept your way back to the berth
seonghwa helps you up into the hammock and you watch as he climbs into his
his hands are also teeming with love, you realise, when he wordlessly extends his arm nearest to you in a silent invitation
if you both reach out, you can just entwine your hands together from your respective hammocks
the burns on your palms have healed nicely and without the need for them to be wrapped, you can feel every expanse of his hand covering yours
he doesn’t retract his hand and neither do you, even though it’s not the most comfortable position and you both lose feeling of your arms soon after
but you lay in your hammock, drifting to the soft snores of the crew members around you and the soft tug of seonghwa’s fingers in yours
sleep comes easy to you
particularly tonight
as it will for the rest of your life
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yunho
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pov: you're the crew's navigator
you know it’s going to happen even before it actually does
you can feel it in the air and from the way the baby hairs around your hairline start to frizz
but you never say anything because you wouldn’t trade it for the moment when the first raindrop hits the back of yunho’s neck and he abandons his duty at the helm to drag you out onto the upper deck
(hongjoong only sighs in defeat before he stations himself at the helm instead)
you don’t like the rain
not like yunho does
you are already looking up from the map spread out in the captain’s quarters, a knowing smile on your face just from the sound of his bounding footsteps alerting you of his presence, when yunho appears with the beckon of rain
you pretend to let yourself be dragged to your feet along to his urges of come on!
but then you dash forward towards the hatch with yunho chasing after your bright laughter
in the short span of time that it has taken him to fetch you, the sprinkle of rain has steadily grown and the weathered planks of the deck are already a dark grey
you feel the coldness of the raindrops hitting the crown of your head and the spreading chill as your clothes start to become damp
but that’s not what makes you feel alive
yunho catches up to you easily and then he is snaking his arms around your waist to lift you up into the air
you barely have time to squeal and steady yourself on his broad shoulders before he is spinning the two of you around, the world blurring away as the spotlight shines on him and he is all that you can see
the deck is your stage and the sea is your audience
rain with yunho is twirling hugs, tiptoed kisses and tinkling laughter. it’s soaked shirts and rosy cheeks and the only thing that matters in the moment
you don’t like the rain, but it’s easy to like the rain when it’s with him
(hongjoong lets the two of you be - so obviously and hopelessly enamoured by each other - because when one sees people in love, one cannot help but watch and smile)
the rain eventually peters out and you and yunho must return to your respective duties, but not until you two have changed out of your drenched clothes and sneaked in a few more kisses
a few hours later, you hear the racket above the deck as a ship pulls up beside the arriba and ropes are thrown across from both sides to lash the vessels close together
hongjoong comes down to join you in his quarters, but he’s not alone
behind him is the captain of the silver light, dae jihoo, and his quartermaster, with seonghwa entering last
you note that this crew doesn’t have a navigator of their own
but you suppose that’s one of the reasons why their captain had implored an alliance for this particular raid
the crew of the silver light are wanting to target the prosperity triangle - an area between three large ports that is frequently trafficked by wealthy vessels transporting valuable goods
it’s a raid that would prove difficult for a smaller pirate crew like your own and the silver light, and especially if they have no navigator
but it’s not uncommon for pirates to form temporary alliances for such purposes, and together, your crews have a good chance of plundering a fortune
you nod your head in acknowledgement when hongjoong introduces you to the two pirates as ateez’s navigator
you don’t miss the way jihoo’s eyes seem to linger on you for a second too long before he flashes a crooked grin and gestures towards the navigational map spread out on the oak table
clearing your throat of discomfort, you step forward and flatten the creases out with your hands
“this is the most open spot within the triangle that the vessel we’re after will pass through,” you tap an annotated spot on the chart, “and this is where we are now”
you slide your finger across, “we’ll follow the rhumb line west to avoid the shallower waters and when we can catch the trade winds, it should be smooth sailing from there”
jihoo challenges you, “how can you be sure we’ll catch the ship within the triangle?”
“they’ll need to sail past the equator and i’m almost certain their ship will be slowed down by the doldrums. we can easily gain knots on them”
he squints at the scribbles you’ve made noting down what you’ve gathered of the wind patterns
you know for a fact that it will mean nothing to him, but whatever he sees must satisfy him because jihoo appears to make up his mind
“when do we set sail?” he directs his question to your captain
“three days from now”
he grunts a noise of affirmation and stands, which hongjoong takes as the cue to see them and the rest of their crew off your ship
you trail behind the group as you all head back to the upper deck
you prepare to emerge from the hatch with a playful wink, knowing that yunho will be craning his neck from the helm to get a glimpse of you, when a sudden holler surprises you out of your thoughts
it’s immediately met with the answering cries of several other pirates - none from your crew - and you hurry to clear the hatch to gain your bearings
you’re thrust right into the throes of battle as ateez are forced to unsheathe their cutlasses to defend against silver light’s sudden attack
having been caught off guard, basically none of your firearms are loaded with gunpowder, rendering them unusable
you will have to make do with the short sabre at your waist
there’s no time to account for the whereabouts and safety of your crew members and you just have to pray that you all make it out of this unscathed
especially yunho
but as ateez retaliate, you all notice something is off about the situation
your crew is very quickly overpowering the other pirates - it was a losing fight for them from the very beginning
it makes no sense to you nor the rest of your crew
the losses of breaking the alliance before the planned raid, much less through betrayal, far outweigh any gains they could possibly make from their choice of action
it makes absolutely no sense
until it does.
you are blocking the swing of a sabre with your own when you are tugged backwards harshly by the collar of your shirt
there’s an angry snarl in your throat as you prepare to turn around, but it’s quickly silenced by the warning shot of a pistol right beside your ear
the cold ring of metal is then pressed to the back of your head
you know that firearms require time to reload and there’s a chance that this pistol is now useless
but, like wooyoung has taught the rest of the crew to do, they may have pre-prepared several pistols and you are not willing to play with fire - especially when you are only the flex of a finger away from death
you vaguely hear someone yell out your name in panic, but you’re not quite sure you hear correctly over the clamour of cutlasses clashing, warcries resounding and your own heartbeat pounding
“stand down or your navigator dies,” the voice behind you thunders
it’s jihoo…and he wants a navigator for his crew
“ateez,” one of your men commands, “lower your weapons”
your crew may make decisions fairly, but in battle, only hongjoong has the power to make commands
yunho has never spoken against his captain or disobeyed orders
until now
the words do not come out of your captain’s mouth but yunho’s
the rest of the members hesitate - they will not stand down unless hongjoong commands them to, yet, they are unsure whether they will be able to follow should he demand them to fight on, even if it means endangering your life
but there is no guarantee jihoo will let your crew go unharmed even after you all surrender, and as the captain, hongjoong must make decisions in the best interest for the crew
“captain!” yunho yells desperately
yunho never yells
“stand down,” hongjoong commands
silver light’s captain steps in closer behind you until you can hear and feel the noise of intriguement that leaves his mouth down the back of your neck
“that your loverboy, hmm?”
he smirks
there’s a false moment of primal relief when the press of the pistol is removed from the back of your head, but it is immediately replaced with fear that is irrevocably worse as he aims it in yunho’s direction and shoots
“no!”
you shriek and pull against the tug of his hold, still fisted around your collar, your pupils blown wide with terror at the sight of the clean hole in the mast right beside yunho’s head
“it’ll be pretty boy’s head next if you don’t come with me,” jihoo coos into your ear
the fight slips out of you immediately
because if you can save him, a life for a life, then you will
even if the sight of mingi holding yunho back from lunging forward when the pistol’s barrel returns to your head makes your heart clench painfully
“y/n, don’t you dare,” yunho pleads, voice filled with anguish
you’re barely given enough time to lock eyes with him and say resolutely, “remember what you said to me,” before you are tugged away to the boarding plank
ateez can only watch helplessly as the planks are removed from over the bulwarks and the last of the ropes are untied, releasing the silver light from their ship for good
jihoo tugs you down the hatch as the ship starts to pull away, and just like that, you’re gone from their sights
“fuck!” yunho shouts furiously, unable to contain his emotions as he turns around and connects his fist with the mast
right where the musket ball had made a hole
his hand pulls away with bloodied knuckles from the splintered wood and the sheer force of his punch
a concerned whine leaves seonghwa’s mouth and he tries to approach the taller, but yunho shakes him off and looks determinedly at hongjoong
“we’re sailing to the banver isle just east of the triangle. we’ll ambush them there”
seonghwa looks between the two, hope flickering in his chest at the potential plan, “you think the silver light are stupid enough to try taking on the prosperity triangle alone?”
yunho chuckles darkly, “they were fucking shitbrained enough to take y/n, so yes”
nobody disagrees and hongjoong smirks dangerously
“ateez, ready the sails for banver isle,” he commands. “prepare for battle”
because not only have the silver light taken you away from ateez, but they have also annihilated the light from yunho’s eyes
gone are his warm brown orbs - they are now black holes thirsty for retribution
there will be lives to pay and even that will not be enough for the void
unaware of what your crew is capable of, jihoo looks down at you with a triumphant leer
“you’ll navigate us to the triangle in three days’ time. don’t even think about lying - you’ve already shown me where the location is”
with an even nod you reply, “of course”
it’s true though - you have absolutely no intention of navigating them somewhere else
because you know yunho will be waiting there for you
amidst chaste kisses exchanged between plush lips cold from the rain, yunho tells you in a brief moment of seriousness
“don’t show them where the real location is,” his breath is warm across your cheeks. “you know the coastal island roughly ten nautical miles away? show them that instead”
you tilt your head to look up at him, “you think they’ll betray us?”
“no,” he reassures you with a deeper, slower kiss, “but we can never be too safe”
and even if your vessels miss each other this time, you have complete faith that yunho will sail to the very ends of the world just to find you
two days before the originally-planned raid, the arriba sails as closely to banver isle as possible without risking running aground
yunho has navigated the ship around the back of the isle so that the form of the rocky terrain conceals them from sight
once the anchor is lowered, the crew members use every ticking moment to make preparations
swords are sharpened and firearms cleaned
mingi distributes the gunpowder and ammunition, which is pre-loaded into muskets, pistols and swivel cannons ready to be engaged
the ship’s sails and riggings are checked and yeosang keeps a keen lookout in the crow’s nest
and it’s as if the world itself can sense the brewing storm that grows inside yunho
the sea is eerily still and silent, but the sky is an omen to something impending, its rolling clouds dark and angry with the threat of rain leering over the waters
yunho doesn’t actually like the rain
he only likes it because it’s with you
rain with you is barefoot dancing, breathless confessions and bashful giggles. it’s drenched locks and fluttering eyelashes and the only thing that exists in the moment
but as the profile of the silver light finally approaches the isle two days later, the heavens split open and you are not by his side
rain without you is falling pinpricks, frigid winds and flaunting mockery and yunho despises it with his entire being
at yeosang’s call of, “vessel approaching from starboard,” up in the lookout, yunho smothers the fervid desire to barrage the other ship with cannonballs like hail from hell; to unleash an inferno that blazes through their hull as he sadistically watches the crew jump for their lives
he stamps out the hunger to shoot the ones that make it into the sea, not to kill, only to maim and induce a long, painful struggle in the open waters until death becomes inevitable - until there is enough blood spilt that it becomes the only stench in the air that stretches across for miles
yunho leashes his monsters with an iron fist
because he will not do anything that could even remotely endanger your life
even if it means that he has to hold back - to sit and wait like prey instead of advancing on the other ship like a predator
at least not yet.
silver light do not know, but this is the calm before the storm
the heavens may be crying, the winds may be howling and the waters may be roiling
but this is nothing compared to yunho
yunho is a tempest of unparalleled rage and their ship is in the eye of his storm
as the bowsprit of the silver light starts to appear around the isle, the members ready their grappling hooks and yunho draws his cutlass with a menacing whisper of unsheathing metal
you are his treasure, and pirates never lose sight of their treasure
today…you return to him
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yeosang
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pov: you're a tavern keeper
watching the ale reach the brim of the tankard you are holding, you’re about to step away from the barrel when the voice of a patron sounds behind you
“‘scuse me, could i get a mint-”
you look up and turn around in confusion as their voice cuts off
only to have the question taken right from the tip of your own tongue as you’re met with the face of the person you had loved for years
the same person you have spent twice as long trying to forget
eyes searching each other’s in a surprised stupor, seeing kang yeosang standing right in front of you takes you back to those memories that you have tried to remember and simultaneously bury
it thrusts you headfirst into what used to be of your shared love - like the feathery remnants of a dream, so distant from the fingers of your consciousness, suddenly returning to vivid existence when you least expect it
“hey, mint leaf. i’m back”
yeosang at least has the perceptiveness to appear a little apologetic, immediately pulling you into a hug and pressing soft kisses against your hairline uncaring of the other people in the tavern
it’s been several weeks since you last saw him, and whilst he had warned you he would be gone for longer this time, you hadn’t expected it to mean two whole months
he’s a small merchant who also fishes along the coast to earn enough to make ends meets, so he’s often gone for a few days or a week or two
you knew what you were in for when you first made it official with him, but just because you become accustomed to something, doesn’t mean it gets any easier
and he’s never been gone for this long
something must have happened - something good - because he looks alive, cheeks glowing and eyes fiery
“i met the crew”
“the crew?” you ask, hands reaching for the bourbon to prepare him a drink as he lets himself behind the counter to stand beside you in your workspace
he nods excitedly, "wooyoung’s pirate crew, ateez"
you think you know where this is going to go and you hate that your stomach sinks at the thought of what your future may become, because yeosang looks so happy to tell you about this and a happy yeosang is all that you could ask for
“the captain offered me a position as their lookout”
you pick out your next words carefully as you hand him his finished drink - a mint julep with two sugar cubes, just the way he likes it
"aren't…isn't being a pirate dangerous?"
“not as dangerous as you might think, actually. they’ve been showing me the ropes the last couple of weeks and…and i think i want to join them. officially”
there it is
the forked end of the road
you wonder how far two people can keep walking with their hands intertwined before the distance becomes too great and they have to let go
his words become a little muddled when he goes on to tell you about how they divvied up their recent loot to include his share too
how he’s gained more money than he’s made from the last two years of working as a merchant and fisherman combined
if he joins his old friend and his crew, he could earn enough to buy his parents a proper house; earn enough to build you your very own tavern
you want to tell him that you don’t need the tavern, just him, but you also know just how important his family is to him
his filial desire to take care of his parents was one of the very reasons you fell in love with him in the first place
before you can say anything though, the tavern keeper is interrupting to let you know that your shift is over
yeosang immediately perks up and herds you out of the place, claiming that there is a new fishing spot he discovered that he has to show you
and so you sit while he rows his modest boat, only the splash of his oars disturbing the peaceful stillness that has settled over the waters as the sun dips below the horizon
the waning light casts a soft, warm glow over him, like a gentle kiss against his skin and birthmark
if angels graced the earth, there would be one sitting right in front of you
“i missed you, mint leaf,” he confesses, gaze shyly averted. “i thought about you when i was gone”
“did you think about showing me this place?” you feel a little breathless
he nods, “every single night”
and that’s enough for you
it feels like everything is okay again
it doesn’t matter if you’re standing at a forked road
you think that perhaps, for him, you can walk on an unpaved path - just so that you can keep holding his hand
“y/n”
yeosang’s voice is deep
the word sounds foreign to your own ears but you don’t dwell on it
(because if you do, you’ll wonder whether it’s because you’ve forgotten the sound of his voice or because you want to hear him calling you something else)
“what would you like to order?” you ask
(because it’s easier to pretend that he’s just another patron than to admit that he used to be all that you ever knew)
yeosang fumbles a little but then regains himself, “oh, um- just a mint julep, please”
you turn your back to him to prepare his drink, hands reaching for the barrels lined along the bottom shelves without needing to look
you’ve made this drink too many times to count
half of those times were in the safety of the darkness that midnight offered; when the tears could flow freely without anyone seeing
it’s only when you start to mix his cocktail that yeosang realises he didn’t ask for his sugar cubes, but he figures the drink will taste bitter tonight either way so he opts to watch you instead
he wishes that he could walk past the counter like he used to and wrap his arms around you
he wishes that he could whisper endearments into your ears and press them against your lips
he wishes that he could show you that he still loves you
“do you still love me?” you voice wavers with hurt as you stand in front of him
he’s finally back after being gone for four months this time and you hate this conversation as much as he does, but it was bound to happen eventually
yeosang pleads, “more than anything”
“then why does it hurt so much? loving you…and being loved by you”
he doesn’t have an answer
but god be damned if he doesn’t try to find a way to fix things
“tell me, mint leaf, what can i do?”
you blink back your tears furiously, having already made up your mind while he was still at sea
“let’s break up”
because in the end, unpaved paths have too many rocks, too many thorns and too many arched roots; they were never meant to be walked along
you pass yeosang his finished drink without another word and then move further down the counter to serve a different customer
his eyes linger on you wistfully before he tears them away from you
it’s a good thing his hair has grown long enough to cover his face when he looks down
because his eyes start to grow wet at the sight of the mint julep you have made him
with two sugar cubes in it, just the way he likes it
perhaps, once you’ve loved somebody, you never really stop loving them
yeosang shows up again the next day and seats himself at the bar
you don’t serve him though, actively avoiding his end of the counter and letting another of your staff tend to him
he orders his usual but he leaves out his request for additional sugar cubes
it feels wrong for him to order it from someone that isn’t you
but you’re watching out of the corner of your eye as the worker mixes the bourbon, sugar and water, topping it with a few mint leaves and then sliding it across the counter for him
you let out a little sigh, half amused, when he takes a small sip and smacks his lips together at the bitterness
you take two sugar cubes and drop it unceremoniously into his pewter cup before you realise what you’re doing
yeosang immediately seizes the opportunity to talk to you
“my crew’s docked for the fortnight…” he waits to see if you’ll respond. you don’t, but you also don’t move away, so he continues. “we’re making some repairs to the hull and sails before our next raid”
you have half a mind to walk away after you reply, “i didn’t ask” 
he forges on regardless
“we’re going to work with another crew for this one. it’s going to increase our chances of a successful raid because-”
your voice comes out a little harsher than you mean for it to when you hiss again, “i didn’t ask”
yeosang’s mouth closes as he pulls away slightly, back straightening
then he says in a softer voice, “i’ve been doing well. wooyoung still takes care of me, even though i’m not new to the crew anymore. i also saw my parents today and they’re happily retired now…”
you don’t stop him from talking this time
because how many sleepless nights have you spent sitting outside your tavern looking up at the stars; how many times have you served a mint julep to a patron and accidentally added sugar cubes; how many moments have you been consumed by the thought of him, simply wondering if he is living well?
this is everything that you have ever wanted - yeosang in the flesh letting you know that, yes, he has been well
but it is also everything that you have ever feared - that he has been well even without you
you don’t know what to feel
“my parents asked about you,” he says gingerly. “how have you been?”
his voice is barely audible, as if he is afraid of what you might say
or perhaps, afraid that you might not say anything at all
“good. excellent,” you force a small smile, your eyes still focused on the sole mint leaf floating in his drink. you don’t think you can look at him. “i own this place now”
his body loses its tension, cheeks rounding as he looks at you with genuine relief
“that’s…that’s really good to hear”
his words sting
you are unsure if it stings your ego or if it picks at the wound in the shape of the person you have lost
but it hurts to know that he has worried over you in the exact same way you have over him, the whole time you two have been apart
you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation and hot tears well in your eyes almost immediately
your bottom lip starts to crumple so you rush into the back room to escape
“y/n!” yeosang calls out after you, alarmed
when you don’t stop, disappearing into the storage, he jolts up from his seat and follows
your body shudders with every heaving breath you take, unable to stop yourself from crying even harder when you feel him tug you into his chest
you try to pull away but his sturdy arms tighten around you
yeosang refuses to let you go once more
“i hate you,” you sob, struggling against his hold as you hit his chest weakly
he hushes comforts against the crown of your head, soothing noises as he endures your fists
“you have every reason to”
yeosang holds back tears of his own
he feels your body gradually losing its fight, sinking into his embrace instead, hands desperately holding him close
your voice is so impossibly small when you tearfully confess, “but i still love you”
“oh, mint leaf,” he brushes the stray locks of hair away from your face and cradles your jaw tenderly, “i still love you, too”
he presses a soft kiss against your forehead, pulling away once only to reaffirm, “so, so much”
when he kisses you again, his lips taste salty against your own, but nothing has ever tasted sweeter than this
your breath no longer stutters but the tears continue to run down your face because your heart finally feels right after all these years apart
and yet-
you pull away
“we can’t do this”
yeosang feels his heart shattering
“why not? i don’t understand,” he whimpers
“you know why,” you say distressingly, “my life is here, yeosang. i can’t just leave and return whenever i want. but you, on the other hand? you can. you go where your crew goes - you belong with them”
“but my heart belongs to you. please, y/n,” he begs
his arms are still wrapped around you and you feel his desperation as his fingers cling onto you like a lifeline
you look earnestly into his bloodshot eyes, your own vision blurry, “yeo, you’re not the one who gets left behind here. you’re not the one who waits weeks, months, years on end, just hoping that the next person to walk in is the person that you want to see”
he wants to plead that he waits to see you, too, but he knows that he’s the one who leaves, too
“you’re the right one for me - the only one for me - but it’s not the right time,” you tell him gently
slowly, his arms lower themselves from around you
“it wasn’t the right time then and it isn’t the right time now,” he repeats, “then when is the right time for us?”
you shoot the question right back at him, “when is the right time for someone whose life is to sail the world?”
neither of you know the answer
nobody does, because loving a pirate has no certainties
but yeosang doesn’t give up
“if we can’t ever be sure, why don’t we just make it the right time ourselves?”
you caress his cheek sweetly, and despite having stepped away from you earlier, he leans into your hand, starved of your loving touch and affection
“yeosang…what if we’ve already had it? what if…meeting each other was already it? what if we’re just meant to love from a distance, not side by side?” your voice is poignant but resolute
he brings up a hand to cover yours, still warm and tender against his wet cheek
how is it that he can be touching you yet simultaneously feel worlds apart from you
“okay,” he accepts with a whisper
if loving you silently is the only way he gets to love you, then he will choose it in a heartbeat over losing you entirely
he thumbs away the remainder of your tears
“can i kiss you? one last time?” he asks
you nod
“one last time”
your lips slowly meet, slotting together as they find their home in each other’s dips and curves
his hands cradle the small of your back and neck and your own hands rest against his chest
the kiss you share is steady, longing and bittersweet
it conveys everything that you want to say to each other, and even then, it is hardly enough
thank you
i’m sorry
i love you
goodbye…
you can feel your eyes burning up again, but you focus on the feeling of yeosang’s lips against yours instead
because you know that the moment one of you pulls away, that is it forever
in the world of love, there are people who are ill-fated
they meet the right person, but at the wrong time
and then there are people like you and yeosang
not ill-fated, but star-crossed lovers
the right person…
but just not meant to be
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2K notes · View notes
swiftispunk · 1 year
Text
let me | javier peña x f!reader
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part two
pairing: javier peña x afab!fem!reader
summary: reader is inexperienced, javi helps you out. you know, like a gentleman. 
rating: 18+ (no minors please)
warnings etc: filthy smut, unprotected p in v sex, masturbation, fingering, oral (f receiving), loss of “virginity,” soft!javi, also rough!javi, smoking, alcohol, choking if you squint, mentions of torture (oops), also mentions of drugs. probably bad spanish (please correct me). NO USE OF Y/N.
A/N: guys. idk guys. idk what this is. in my mind, javi is just a very experienced and attentive lover and that’s why this exists. honestly they should have never let me watch narcos (it’s me, i’m they).
word count: 4.9k
The after-work drinks had led where they so often do: you and Peña, alone at a bar not far from the embassy, locked in a war of words after the rest of your colleagues had called it a night.
“It’s really not any of your business, Peña.”
“Javi, baby.”
“Sorry, Javi. And I’m not saying anything else.”
“That’s fine, you don’t have to. I mean, it’s obvious. Can’t believe I didn’t see it before, honestly.”
“How is it obvious?”
Tonight, somehow, the conversation has landed on your sex life, a topic you’d rather not get into, seeing as you’re not exactly what you - or anyone else for that matter - would call “experienced.”
You’d made the fatal flaw, after your third beer, of letting that fact slip. Now Peña, ever the opportunist, is pressing you for details. 
“I’ve fucked a lot of whores, baby, so believe me. I know a virgin when I see one.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mhmm,” he hums, swigging back a mouthful of his beer. 
“What makes you so sure?” you challenge him, fighting for your life to maintain the upper hand in an argument you are almost definitely losing. 
“Princesa, it’s written all over you.”
“I don’t see how.” 
You’re being coy, but of course he’s right. You hate to admit it because it feels embarrassing, even more so knowing Peña’s...colourful history. You’ve heard all about his escapades through the other women at the embassy, and he isn’t exactly quiet about it himself. Half his intel came from the women he’d slept with, and he had no shame admitting that. 
It’s not like you’re against the idea of sex or anything, you’ve fooled around here and there. You just...never got around to crossing that one particular threshold. 
But you’ve definitely thought about crossing it with the sensuous man sitting across from you now.  
Javi leans back in his chair, the fabric of his tight shirt stretching deliciously over his tan chest. It takes all your strength to keep your eyes on the beer bottle in your hands and not on his neck, where the thinnest sheen of sweat is glistening in the Colombian heat. 
“The way you are with me, for one thing,” he drawls, lighting a cigarette and taking a languid pull. 
Fuck.
“What - I don’t -”
“You can deny it, querida, but I’ve got eyes,” he says matter-of-factly, like he’s assessing the evidence of a crime scene. “All jumpy and nervous around me like a teenager or some shit. It’s alright, es linda.”
God-fucking-damnit. He’s right again, much to your chagrin. You know you haven’t been subtle with the way you’ve been pining after him, but still. Of course he’s noticed you blushing and bumbling violently every time he so much as greets you with an “hola, querida” or places a hand on your lower back when he passes you in the office. 
Not that he hasn’t been taking complete advantage of your obvious crushing, openly flirting at work or insisting you stay for “one more drink, hermosa,” at work functions like this. 
That’s why you can’t bear to tell him the truth. 
He smirks while you fumble for your words, and yeah, you’re definitely not winning this argument. 
“Look, Peña, I -”
“Javi.”
“Sorry, Javi -”
“And there’s that,” he interjects, leaning forward and pointing at you accusingly with the cigarette trapped between his fingers. 
“What?”
“You give in so easy, querida,” he practically purrs, leaning even closer to you across the little table, your body responding to the proximity, blush flooding your cheeks and heart beating out an unsteady rhythm. “No fight in you at all. You know what that says?”
You shake your head no.
“It says you’re dying to get fucked.”
His bluntness catches you off guard, and your breath leaves you in a quick exhale as you back away from him, far enough to get some air. 
Then the truth is pouring from your lips before you can stop it. 
“Well it hasn’t been for a lack of offers, okay?” you say, flustered and frustrated. Over Javier Peña. What else is new?
“Oh, I’m sure,” he reassures you, but you can see the triumphant glint in his eyes that he’s got the admission from you. Javi stays right where he is on the edge of his chair, so close your knees brush. He takes another long drag off his cigarette, the smoke filling the hot air around you as he exhales. 
“Or for lack of wanting to, actually,” you admit. 
“What’s stopping you?” he asks, with what sounds like genuine curiousity. 
“I don’t know, Javi, work...life...things got in the way.” It’s not untrue; cushy government jobs like yours didn’t come easy, especially not the ones that see you working with the team in charge of taking down the biggest cocaine empire in history. Distractions in your personal life had never been an option. “You might find it hard to believe but there are more important things in this world than fucking.”
“Sure,” he says agreeably, with another drag of his smoke. “But if you had offers - and it’s obvious why you’d have offers, hermosa - why didn’t you?”
He sounds so earnest, like he’s really trying to understand. It’s that sincerity that keeps the truth coming before you can stop it.
“They just weren’t the right people,” you shrug. It really was that simple. You had just...never wanted to settle. 
“So let me ask you this,” he says, putting out his cigarette and silencing you with a hand on your knee under the table. 
Fuck fuck fuck. 
“What’s stopping you right now?” he croons. “If I’m offering.”
You can hardly breathe as his gentle touch inches up your leg, his long fingers finding their way just under the hem of your pencil skirt. Your skin tingles at his touch, his palm still somewhat cold from the beer he’d been holding a moment ago. 
You can’t speak or even move as his hand moves further up under your skirt, sliding between your legs, pinky finger just caressing the edge of your underwear, dangerously close to the spot you know has started to become wet with arousal. 
He’s never been this overt with you before. 
“W-what like -,” Your voice comes out weak, betraying you as you try to keep it together “- you seriously think you’re the right person, Peña?”
“Has anyone ever even made you come, cariño?” he implores, ignoring your question.
You swallow harshly as you battle with yourself to keep your composure, answering his question with another question. 
“Um - you mean - besides myself?” 
Javi grins like the devil himself, dark brown eyes glinting with menace as his fingers twitch knowingly closer to the edge of your panties. 
He’s enjoying this.
“Sure, besides yourself. But put a pin in that, querida.”
Had his hand felt cold a moment ago? Now it feels hot as a branding iron on your thigh, snaking completely between your legs and forcing you to uncross them. 
“I - I don’t want to say,” you lie.
His gaze locked tightly with yours, Javi squeezes your inner thigh then, feather light but with enough force that you gasp loudly and your entire body tenses.
He isn’t smiling anymore.
“Dime,” he commands you. 
You suddenly imagine yourself as some sicario he’s interrogating for information, his grip on your thigh its own form of cruel torture, eliciting confessions from you like a criminal under the knife. 
“N-no,” you stammer dumbly. “No one but me has ever...”
“Ever...?”
Fuck. He wants you to say it. His thumb strokes the sensitive skin between your legs, coaxing the words out of you with ease.
“No one but me has ever made me come,” you say in a rushed breath. 
He spreads your legs a little wider, and you don’t fight it. 
“Are you turned on right now, hermosa?” 
You nod wordlessly. What’s the point in lying now? You’re so wet anyway, you’re surprised the entire bar can’t sense your arousal. 
He chuckles darkly, finally sitting back and taking his hand away with him. You take a breath for what feels like the first time in minutes, body aching from the need to have his touch back. 
“Como dije, too easy,” he says, dropping the dark edge in his voice and lighting another cigarette coolly. 
“Javi -”
“Finish your drink, querida.”
-
For the second time that evening, you find yourself alone with Javi.
Only this time it’s on his couch, and instead of beer, you’re clutching for dear life to a crystal glass of bourbon as Javi brushes your hair off your shoulder to delicately kiss your neck.
Somewhere between the teasing in the bar and the teasing in his car, you’d agreed to let Javi “fix your little problem” (his words, not yours). Not that it had been a particularly hard sell. But now it’s actually happening and you need to at least attempt to set some ground rules. 
“Javi, wait.”
“Mmmm?” He doesn’t move away from you, his breath sending shivers down your spine as you struggle to remember what it was you’d been trying to say.
“I’m...not one of your whores,” you say breathlessly.
“Lo sé, hermosa.”
“And I waited a long time for this,” you manage.
He continues kissing along your jaw, simultaneously snatching the drink from your hands and placing it on the table in front of you. 
“Say what’s on your mind, baby.” You hear the implication behind his words: it’s now or never. 
With every ounce of willpower you have, you push him off you with a hand on his chest, partially exposed under his beige shirt, to look him in his smoldering brown eyes. The sight of him nearly takes you out, his lips parted and brows furrowed, the gleam in his eyes nothing short of hungry.
“I just want to make sure you know what this is,” you say firmly, feigning enough bravado to take on Escobar himself. “This is for me.”
Javi smirks, seemingly endeared by your efforts to take control of the situation.
“Corazón,” he hums, brushing both his hands over your cheekbones softly. “How little do you think of me? Hm? I’m not gonna use you. I want to help you.”
You can barely choke out a breathy, “Good,” before his lips are on yours, silencing you for what feels like the hundredth time that night. He kisses you deeply, slowly but assuredly, his tongue finding its way into your mouth with no resistance from you. 
His breath is warm and all-encompassing, the taste of beer and bourbon mixed with cigarette smoke lacing his lips as they move competently against yours. He’s gentle, to your surprise, his hands still resting on either side of your face, holding you steady as you lose yourself in him.
He kisses you like that for what feels like hours, taking his time, letting his hands tangle in your hair as yours feel their way along his muscled arms.
With your head spinning from just his kiss, you can’t contain your moan when he trails one hand over your clavicle and under your collared shirt, fingers ghosting just over your breast. You gasp for air when he breaks the kiss, moving to graze his lips over your chest and up your neck, across your jaw and finally behind your ear, where he stops.
“You said you’ve made yourself come, right?” he whispers hotly in your ear, his hand over your breast finally squeezing with the faintest pressure.
You nod. 
“Words, hermosa,” he presses you, gently tugging at the thick hair at the nape of your neck with his other hand, tangling his fingers in there. 
“I’ve made myself come,” you say shakily, daring yourself to look at him.
He licks his lips and removes his hand from under your shirt, letting it run over the front of your body, where he uses it to hike your skirt higher up on your thighs, revealing your panties underneath. 
“Show me,” he commands. “Show me how you play with your pussy. Show me how you like it.” 
His words send sparks flying to your core, but you don’t have time to absorb them, because then he’s ducking back to crush his mouth to yours again, guiding one of your hands between your legs with his own. 
You whimper as you feel how soaked you are through your underwear, which causes Javi to smirk as he kisses you. His hand hovers over yours as you circle your clit through the fabric till you’re floating with the sensation of it, giving in to the feeling of Javi against your mouth and your own hand against your clothed folds.
He pulls back after a moment, helping you wiggle free from your underwear and spreading your legs wider so you’re fully on display for him.
“Bonita,” he whispers, taking in the sight of you, skirt hiked up to nearly your belly now, wet cunt glistening in the low light of his apartment. “Fuck,” he growls, voice dripping with awe and arousal. “Keep going, pretty girl.”
His encouragement keeps you from feeling embarrassed, even as you dip two fingers inside yourself, how you would if you were alone.
“Yeah, baby,” Javi groans. You chance a glance at him to find he’s palming himself through his tight jeans, watching you like a warrior lusting for battle. “You like that? Want someone to fill that pussy up, don’t you?”
You can only respond with a soft moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the feeling and the sound of his voice. You’re distantly aware of him leaning over you, unbuttoning your shirt and palming your tits through your bra, sending a new wave of pleasure through you while you fuck yourself with your fingers.
You’re so far gone that you aren’t prepared for the moment he shoves your hand away, pinning it on the couch beside you, suddenly replacing your fingers with his mouth. 
“Fuck, Javi!” you cry as his tongue darts into your cunt before licking up towards your clit, where he mimics the small circles you’d demonstrated with your fingers just moments before. 
He moans against you, igniting another new sensation, sending electric shocks through you, a tightness starting to build deep inside your core.
But then he’s slipping two fingers inside you, two fingers that are much thicker and longer than your own. His tongue keeps working circles around your clit, distracting you from the slight pain of his fingers spreading you open. But the pain is quickly replaced with pleasure when he hooks them inside you just so, reaching a new spot that has you flying, squirming under him as your orgasm threatens to overcome you.
“You taste so good, hermosa,” he groans, pulling his mouth away to kiss at your inner thighs, nipping the skin there ravenously. “Has anyone ever eaten your pussy like this, baby?”
“No one like you, Javi,” you promise him, gazing down at him fully clothed between your legs, your wetness caught in his mustache, his fingers still hooked inside you like an anchor. 
“I want you come on my mouth, can you do that for me, cariño?”
You nod furiously in response and Javi grins up at you before diving down to circle languidly over your clit with his tongue again, fingers fucking in and out of you, unrelentingly, till there’s only him, him, him, inside you and around you, making your head spin and your toes curl. When you come, you arch up off the couch, crying out a string of expletives mingled with his name. It’s miles beyond anything you’ve ever made yourself feel with just your own meager fingers.  
Javi doesn’t pull away or slow his motions as you finish, lapping you up greedily, only backing off when he feels your hands in his hair, a silent plea as the sensation starts to feel like too much.
“Oh…my god,” is all you can say when the wave finishes passing over you.
“Good?” he asks then, gazing up at you as you try to catch your breath.
“Yes, Javi, fuck, so fucking good,” you keen, waves of pleasure still sending shockwaves through you as Javi moves up your body to reunite your lips with his. You taste yourself on his tongue when he licks inside your mouth, and fuck, that’s new. 
“You’ve kind of got a mouth on you, don’t you?” Javi observes after a moment. You had been cursing a little more than you usually did, but what did he expect after he’d made you come like that? He really must have just seen you as some fucking prude at work.
“What can I say, Javi?” you lilt, indulging him. “You made a chica mala out of me.” You hope Javi will appreciate the seductive edge you’ve adopted in your post-ograsm haze. 
“Listen to you, baby,” Javi whispers with a smile, cupping your face with his hand, letting his thumb glide over your lips and coax your mouth open. “Sweet girl.” He leans in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself.
He kisses you like that for a long while, and then you can’t wait. You start to fumble with the belt on his jeans, signaling how ready you are for what you know is coming next. 
“M’not gonna take your virginity on the goddamn couch, querida,” he says against your mouth. 
“Then take me to bed,” you all but beg.
He growls and the butterflies in your stomach dance at the desperate sound. It occurs to you then that maybe he wants this as much as you do, the hard line of his cock in his jeans alone a clear indication of that. You eye it with a mixture of fear and exhilaration, which he catches, grinning at the need written all over your face.
He helps you off the couch and guides you to the bedroom by the hand, a move that feels chaste, all things considered.
In the bedroom, Javi’s mouth finds yours again, intoxicating you with his kiss so you hardly notice him removing your shirt, sliding your skirt down your legs and unhooking your bra behind you. But then he pulls away to assess your naked body and your diffidence flares in your exposed state. 
But Javi wastes no time putting you at ease.
“You’re fucking perfect, cariño,” he breathes, his hands moving up your sides to grab your tits with wonder, his eyes glazing over and cock twitching at just the sight of you. You’re blushing like a teenager again at his reverence, as if he hadn’t just eaten you out in the living room.
“Javi -,” you gasp, when he ducks down to kiss one of your nipples hungrily. “Why are you still wearing all those clothes?”
“You want them off, mi amor?” he teases, punctuating the question with a squeeze of your ass. “Get on the bed.”
You don’t argue. You lie back on the bed so he’s standing over you and you watch with nervous fascination as he undoes his belt, his eyes never leaving you. 
“Touch yourself,” he instructs you gruffly. Again, you don’t argue. You’re not sure you’d deny him anything now.
You run your fingers over your throbbing cunt, still so sensitive, while Javi unbuttons his shirt. He tosses it aside before sliding his jeans and boxers down, his rock hard cock springing free, confirming a rumour you’d heard but never known for sure:
Javi is big.
Well, fuck.
Your eyes widen as he strokes himself a few times at the sight of you still playing with yourself, while you try to contain the sudden flood of anxiety threatening to take hold of you. You have no doubt Javi is the right person to do this for you, but the sight of his size has your nerves flaring all over again. What if you couldn’t do it?
Perhaps sensing your unease, Javi climbs up the bed so you’re face to face, stroking your cheek lightly with his fingers and planting a tender kiss to your lips.
“You still want this, baby?” he breathes.
You nod, head swimming with a confusing mixture of need for Javi and fear of failing.
He tuts, brushing your hair off your face with the softest of touches. “Need to hear you say it, mi amor.”
You take a deep, steadying breath, willing yourself to be calm. Javi’s done nothing but take perfect care of you so far, and you’ve waited too long to back out now. 
“I want you, Javi,” you say with as much conviction as you can muster, and it’s true, even if the slight quiver in your voice reveals your true consternation. 
He nods once before moving in to kiss your mouth, and you think you’ll never get tired of the feeling of his lips on yours. He kisses you until the nerves are melting away, peeling back layers of unease with each brush of his hands on your tits, every gentle pinch of your nipples, every indent of his fingernails on your hips. 
He takes his time, getting you soaking wet as he works over your body, finally sliding his hand down between your legs to insert a finger inside you. 
“I’m gonna get you ready for me, okay, sweet girl?” His voice is like honey in your ear, sickly sweet and sultry as he adds a second finger. “Relájate.”
Relax, you tell yourself. 
And it’s surprisingly easy to do, as his fingers spread and move inside you, coaxing you open in preparation for him. You moan at the feeling, and Javi moans with you, like he can feel it too. Your nerves start to feel like anticipation, your desire to have his cock inside you taking over. You can feel him, hard, pressed against your side, and your want very quickly turns to need. 
“Javi,” you groan. “I’m ready, please, fuck me.”
You can see the need in his own eyes looking back at you, his response nothing more than a soft grunt as he moves on the bed to position himself between your legs. He runs the tip of his cock through your wet folds, the feeling of him grazing your clit drawing out a loud moan from you. The lingering pleasure distracts you momentarily from the very real sting of him slipping the tip of his cock inside you. Your breath hitches then, and so does Javi’s.
“Fuck me,” Javi snarls followed by a litany of curse words in Spanish you don’t recognize. “You’re so fucking tight.”
He has to work hard to focus on you, staying completely still while you adjust to his size. 
“Open your eyes, hermosa,” he implores you, voice strained. You hadn’t even realized you’d closed them. You force your lids open to look up at him, his strong arms on either side of you, his expression a combination of pleasure and concern for you. “Are you good?”
You’re not so sure. It hurts, there’s no getting around that. You can feel his cock stretching you open, splitting you apart at the seams and it’s too much, too overwhelming, too unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.
But it’s not...bad. In spite of the pain, your body is begging out an incessant plea to your mind: more. 
“I’m good - I just - need you to move.” 
You think it’s true. Already the pain is dissipating back into pleasure, and you want to feel more of him. You want to be full of him.
Javi dips to kiss you as he slowly, devastatingly, pushes his hips forward, his length gradually filling you inch by inch, till he’s almost all the way inside. Never taking his eyes off yours, he pulls out nearly completely, thrusting back in at the same pernicious pace. You throw your head back when he bottoms out, finally feeling all of him inside you, a fullness unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.
Fuck the pain, you decide then.
“More,” you beg out loud, letting Javi hear your inner pleas. 
Javi groans and begins to thrust in and out of you in earnest then, maintaining a slow but steady pace, till your head is spinning and the ache subsides. Then it’s just good, the feeling of him inside you, the constrained look of ecstasy on his face, his body over yours like a safe haven.
“Is it everything you hoped for?” he teases as he fucks you, the huskiness in his voice driving you wild, causing heat to rise in your core again.
“Shut up and don’t stop,” you try to tease back, but you sound so breathless as the pleasure in you mounts, giving you away.
“Mouthy,” he chides you, biting down gently on your earlobe. “Think you can come again, mi chica mala?”
“I think - I - yeah, just -,” he shifts his hips slightly so he’s hitting that spot in you again, thrusting into you over and over at an devastatingly unhurried tempo - “right there - fuck!”
You don’t stand a chance when he starts rubbing his thumb over your clit, the rhythm of his hips picking up speed as you cry out, your second orgasm edging closer. Javi’s movements are so certain, so meticulous, so competent, and you think it must have been worth the wait if it meant your first time got to be this. 
“Javi, fuck, I’m gonna -,”
“Come for me, hermosa, come on my dick,” he instructs you as the warmth builds in your core and reaches a fever pitch, your entire body jerking as you come again, soaking and squeezing his cock as you do. “Good girl,” Javi praises you while you come, his movements never ceasing as he fucks you through it, losing himself in the feeling. “That’s so good, baby.”
You feel tears sprout at the corners of your eyes at the overwhelming euphoria of it all. Unconsciously, your hands trace Javi’s chest, his arms, his back, anywhere you can reach to feel more of him. His movements, still so methodically slow, become less precise and more hasty as his own climax approaches.
“M’close, hermosa, where do you want me?” he whispers, voice wavering.
“What do you want, Javi?”
He chuckles once minaciously. 
“You don’t want what I want, sweet girl.”
“Try me, Peña,” you say, hoping the use of his last name will bring out the reaction you’re looking for. 
It works, or at least, he seems to clue in to what you’re trying to do. His eyes go dark and you see something shift in him.
“You call me Javi when I’m fucking you, sweetheart,” he says in a voice you haven’t heard him use with you yet. He’s been so careful, so restrained with you so far. But you want to see the real Javi, the one who’s “fucked so many whores that he knows a virgin when he sees one,” the Javi who’s been teasing you for months, the one who’s got his cock in you so deep right now that you’ll let him take you how ever he wants.
“Turn over,” he orders you, and without hesitation you’re flipping onto all fours, Javi wasting no time in slipping his cock back inside you. 
“Fuck, Javi,” you moan as he fucks you with new intensity, his thrusts coming hard and fast, his hips pounding against your ass with enough force to knock the air out of you. 
“This what you want, baby, huh?” he grunts as he holds you steady with his big hands on your sides, reaching under you to palm your tits before pulling you upright so your back is flush against his broad chest. He holds you there while he fucks you punishingly, skin slapping on skin obscenely, his heavy breath tickling your ear as his hands trail over your chest and very lightly over your throat. 
You can’t find the words to answer him, and for once, he doesn’t make you. He just keeps fucking you at that same tenacious pace, his breath growing more ragged and his moans more disjointed.
He doesn’t warn you when he’s about to come, just suddenly pushes you off him so your face is flush against the mattress, his strong hand on the back of your neck forcing you to stay put there. He pulls out and you hear him stroke himself ferociously until his hot come is coating your ass and back and he’s moaning out another string of curse words you can’t make out. 
It sounds like a fucking symphony to your pleasure-drunk mind.
“Goddamn, hermosa,” you hear him sigh when he finishes, releasing his hand from the vice grip it has on the back of your neck, pulling you up by your arms so you’re sitting back on your knees. 
“You good, baby?” he breathes in your ear and you hum a quiet “yes” in response.
You really, really are.
With a firm hand on your chin, he tilts your face back to kiss you again, a kiss that feels so familiar now that it’s like coming home. He wraps his arms around you from behind, ignoring the sticky come between your bodies, his embrace a stabling ballast as you both catch your breath.
“Thank you, Javi,” you whisper after a long moment, letting your head fall back lazily against his shoulder. You don’t know what compels you to say it, but it’s true. Also, you haven’t exactly made it this far before; was it customary to express gratitude after getting your brains fucked out by your co-worker?
Javi just snickers lightly and presses a gentle kiss to your neck.
“Anytime, hermosa,” he says. “But next time, we’re finding something to do with that mouth of yours.”
Your tummy flutters at the thought of “next time” and you smirk up at him.
“Well lucky for you, I do have some experience in that department,” you assure him.
END.
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Out Of Character - LN
Summary: Lando has never been the type to get violent even when he's got good reason and is provoked. But when y/n's ex-boyfriend shows up, he thinks he's got more than just good reason
Warnings: Lando goes into blind rage
No part 2 requests please
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Y/n being freshly broken up and being thrust upon the single market via a night out, really it was the last thing she wanted to do. .
"Y/n...you look stunning." Lando comments as y/n appears looking down at her phone.
"He's not text me back." Y/n mumbles earning a frown. "God, I'm so pathetic. I get myself dumped because he finds someone better then I spend the next two days "
"Hey, don't say that." Lando scolds as Max and Pietra appear. "Can you guys please tell her that she's not pathetic and that he has hasn't found someone better?"
"You aren't. He hasn't." Max and P agree earning a look from the young woman.
"Phone." Lando demands holding his hand out which makes her eye it like he's holding out a poisoned branch at her. "Y/n."
"Fine." Y/n grumbles putting her phone in his hand before he slides it into his pocket. "I guess if I'm third wheeling with anyone, it's not the worst person in it being you."
"Thanks." Lando hums offering his hand while Max and P are already heading out since the Uber is there. "You're going to be alright, y/n. I'll take care of you."
"I know you will. You're not an asshole." Y/n smiles making him grin at her before they head out.
-
Y/n did feel her mood beginning to pick up and with Lando having hold of her phone, he did have to deal with Ben finally replying trying to win her back. Which if she'd seen the messages, Lando knows would've worked.
Ben is the most manipulative person Lando has ever met and it's not secret that she is without a doubt wrapped around his little finger.
But what Lando expect when he steps down from the DJ set is to find that y/n is bickering with none other than Ben himself. He must've arrived while Lando was distracted.
Y/n's got tears threatening to spill over while she finds her bicep in Ben's hand, even in the strobe lights and darkness, Lando can see the white knuckles giving away how tightly he's holding her.
But reaching her from the distance he's at, he doesn't have the time to fight through the crowds before she's being very aggressively yanked away.
"Max? Max. Ben has y/n." Lando exclaims spotting his friend on the way over as he tries to fight his way through the crowd on the dance floor. "He's just dragged her out."
"Shit." Max groans the looking at P. "Stay inside. I don't want you involved in this."
Pietra definitely looks like she's going to argue since she is friends with y/n too. But the expression on Max and Lando's faces stops her from saying anything, instead just nodding.
By the time the two have marched outside, there's a few people who seem to be watching the exes argue.
"You broke up with me! Did you think you think my friends are the type of people to let me sit and mope over you?" Y/n questsions, her hand over his own as she seems to pause trying to pry his hand from her arm. "Will you let me go? You're hurting me."
"You think I'm just going to let you open your legs like a whore for Lando to finally-"
"What are you talking about?!" Y/n exclaims, not bothering to temper her volume anymore. "Get off."
"Hey, get the fuck off of her. Why is she repeating herself?" Lando questions as he appears with Max behind him.
"Oh here he is, the man with a god complex. Here to save the day, hero?" Ben laughs while y/n grimaces at his fist tightening around her arm, as if to make a point.
"Lando, it's ok." Y/n whispers catching his gaze and shaking her head to try and dismiss his efforts. "I'm handling this."
"Mate, maybe we should wait for her." Max states but Ben speaks up.
"Yeah, mate. Not getting your dick wet in a whore tonight. Or not this whore at least."
Lando's not really sure what happened. He didn't see red. It was more like he completely blacked out in rage. The only sense he had was the feeling of pain shooting through his fist a few times. The feeling of bone under skin crunching from the impact.
The sound hits in the form over y/n's voice screaming as sets of hands scramble time yank Lando's body backwards.
Eventually he's slingshotted back landing on another body that cushions his fall. The haze of darkness that clouded his vision finally clears and y/n appears.
"Hey, hey. We need to get you out of here." Y/n states as she looks at him for a moment. "Lando, are you listening to me? We need to go."
"I got him."
"I'll catch up." Y/n nods as Lando looks down at his right fists which looks pretty battered and bloody. It's only then he looks behind y/n that he sees some security looking at Ben who is conscious, thankfully but it looks likes he might have a broken nose and maybe a broken jaw. "Go on, Lando."
"I'm not leaving you with him again."
"You've incapacitated him and made your point. He's not going to touch me. I just have to make sure he doesn't press charges against you. Can you please?" Y/n stresses not actually worried about about Ben but more for Lando's reputation.
"Come on mate, she's right. We'll wait for her somewhere else. Get you some ice too." Max states yanking Lando up to his feet but Lando looks at y/n.
"Take your phone. We'll be waiting." Lando states making her sigh and pick her phone from his pocket with a small smile.
-
Lando is sitting on the curb while Max goes searching for P, just in time for y/n to appear and sigh sitting beside him.
"I'd love to know what the fuck you were thinking." Y/n comments with a sigh then pulling Lando's iced hand to her lap, looking at the damage. "Zak is going to kill you...and then kill me for being the reason behind you decided to try and break a man's face."
"I wasn't really thinking. But I wasn't going to let him talk about you like that." Lando sighs shaking his head. "Did he hit me back?"
"Uhh...I don't think he had much of a choice." Y/n sighs then smiling lightly. "You went kind of feral. I don't think he was prepared for that."
"I don't think anyone was." Lando mumbles trying not to flinch when he feels her thumb brush over his knuckles. "I don't know what you saw him."
"I don't really like being alone. And the moments he was the good guy that I know and love-loved. Those moments were amazing. It's a lot easier to look in from the outside and cast judgement."
"You deserve better." Lando mutters shaking his head.
"Well in the theme of sounding cliche. I believe the saying is that we accept what we believe we deserve."
"Can't fault you for being wrong. Not everyone can be right all the time like me." Lando smirks while she laughs and sighs. "So am I being charged for assault?"
"No he's not that stupid." Y/n sighs softly before she watches his gaze flick down to her already bruising arm. "It's fine."
"Do you wanna stay at my place tonight? It's closer." Lando states earning a small nod before Max and P reappear.
"Oh god, what happened?" P asks rushing to the two.
"Lando happened to Ben. We should go." Y/n sighs looking at Lando as she stands up and offers her hand. "Come on, hero."
-
After getting back to Lando's they order food before Max and P head to bed, claiming they're tired but the drunk smiles and wandering hands definitely left no room for guessing.
Y/n had already changed into some borrowed Quadrant clothes and curled up into the corner of the sofa while Lando purposely squished up to her in his slightly drunk state just to really poke at her.
"I'm sorry you got involved." Y/n sighs shaking her head. "I forgot he had my location on my phone and he followed us from that."
"I stepped in because he was hurting you...and I don't really remember throwing the first punch. I just blacked out from rage in a way." Lando admits earning a frown from the young woman. "I just wanted to protect you from an asshole who never deserved you to begin with."
"You know you're sort of proving he had reason to be jealous and threatened by you when you go on like this." Y/n laughs lightly then shifting till she's at an angle to rest on his shoulder. "Are you going to fight the next one if he treats me badly?"
Now there is an opportunity here. A chance to do what he should've done before that asshole ever laid his eyes on her.
"I would never treat you badly...and it'd be hard to fight myself."
He feels her head lift as she looks at him, definitely in shock so he gives it a few beats before turning his head to look at her.
"Lando..."
"You can say no."
"But you know I won't." Y/n states then sighing. "You know, I convinced myself a long time ago that we would never be anything more than what we've always been."
"Why?" Lando frowns since for years he's hated holding himself back from it all.
"Because you've always been so work-focused and whenever we were together I mean we flirted but I guess I just assumed it was how our friendship worked." Y/n shrugs then groaning. "Fucking hell. Which one of us was blind?"
"You."
"But-"
"I always knew, but...I thought I'd let you figure it out." Lando cuts in then sighing. "Not my most strategic of moves, I'll admit but still."
"You're a dick."
"So...are we going to try and make this work or are we going back to pretending that it doesn't mean a thing?"
"After what you did for me tonight. I wouldn't want to think of you in any other way than less than a boyfriend. It'd be nice to have someone I know is worth my time."
Y/n grins climbing over him to straddle him and picking up his bruised hand, inspecting the damage.
"I'm still sorry." Y/n states earning a head shake.
"Don't be. So far it's all working out in my favour."
"Ever the optimist when you've almost broken your fist on my ex's face."
"I'd break it entirely if I thought it needed to be done."
Y/n hums before she sighs leaning to the side to look around him and check the time.
"I think it might be a good time to get ourselves to bed." Y/n smiles earning a grin from the F1 driver. "It's a good thing you have a couple more weeks till you are back in the car. Or I might actually need to worry for my safety when it comes to McLaren employees trying to snipe me down or something."
"It's bruised, nothing is broken so I'm fine." Lando smiles then raising his bruised hand up to her throat, feeling her pulse thrumming under his touch before he pulls her down into a kiss that really feels long overdue and as if a jigsaw piece has just fallen into place.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos
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softbeej · 2 months
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Rule Number One (You Gotta Have Fun)
Alastor x Reader Smut. U break his only rule and bother him while hes tryna work. Enjoy. :} Requests open btw.
Alastor had locked himself up in his radio tower for what felt like days. He was truly a workaholic, and loved to be busy. This was fine, except you found yourself actually sort of... missing him?
No sight of him creeping down the hallway or the impending feeling that he was about to catch you doing something prohibited at the hotel. It all felt too empty all of a sudden, and you wished he’d be back down soon, even if just to make you uneasy with that eerie smile.
So, you decided to break the number one rule set by him.
“Under no circumstances is anyone to ever enter the radio tower without my express permission.”
Well, what are rules if not to be broken, right? And that’s where you found yourself, climbing up into the prohibited area.
Ears pressed back, he turned to face you. There was no other way to put it, Alastor was fucking pissed.
You shouldn’t of come up here. You should of listened to his stupid rule, and busied yourself with something else. Maybe you had time to turn around, and pretend you made a wrong turn.
“I trust you have something important for me? Something that would be worth you coming all the way up here without my say so, hm?”
His voice was even more staticky than usual, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You were thinking up a response when he stood up and strode over to you. He jabbed his microphone stand under your jaw, albeit gently, and forced you to look at him.
“Well, deary?”
You only shook your head, hair bouncing on your shoulders.
“Then why, pray tell, are you up here? And use your words this time, yes?”
Within those few words, you suddenly understood why he was so feared. Just from the way he spoke, he could make you feel tiny and stupid.
“I, um, was just wondering where you were, is all...”
“Oh?” He released the microphone stand and you faced the floor again, feeling like a child about to get scolded. “You did know where I was though, didn’t you? So, I’ll ask once more. What brought you up here?”
He had retired back to his chair, and was watching you intently as you squirmed at his questioning. His smile never once left his face.
“You know what, I should go-“
Slam. His shadow had closed the door.
“Has no one ever told you it’s rude to ignore someone, darling? I’m just asking you a simple question, what’s the need for all this attitude? Why are you here?”
Blush rising to your face, you picked at skin around your nails still not wanting to look at his shit eating grin.
“I was bored. Missed you.”
“Ah, there we go! You see how easy that was?”
You nodded, “Can I go now? Sorry for interrupting...”
“Nonsense! You missed me, did you not? You came all the way up here for me, desperate for my attention. Well, dear, my attention you have got. Come, sit, sit.” He patted his thigh.
Oh, how you wished the world would swallow you up right now. But the worst part of this was how turned on you were at his lecturing. You think your reaction was doing the same to him, given the way his ears were perked up and pupils blown.
You walked over to him, gently perching on his knee, before he pulled you down by your waist so you were properly sitting in his lap. He continued working, tapping buttons and twisting dials, as you could only sit there and pray your heart rate would soon go back to normal.
"If I did not know any better, I'd say this encounter has you quite excited, darling! The way your pulse is rising, and not to mention the fact I can smell the arousal on you!" He laughed. "You'd tell me, wouldn't you? If I had brought out such emotions in you."
Your blood drew hot in shame, he knew.
You nodded and tried to save face, "Yes, Alastor. I'm fine, just- my pulse is high from the walk up here, that's all."
"And if you were to stand up, your answer would be the same, I presume?"
Confused, you cocked your head. He didn't say anything, just wrapped his hands around your waist and stood you up.
There it was, the evidence he was looking for. A wet patch on his thigh. Right from where you were sitting. Your wetness had leaked through your panties, leaving a spot on his dress pants.
“Well, look at this mess. And my best pants, no less! Do you have anything to say for yourself, dear?”
You shook your head, never so embarrassed in your life.
He tutted, "First, you lie about why you came up here. Then you lie about this? Darling, have you no manners? Or am I to teach you them myself, hm?"
His eyes were half lidded now, ears twitching.
"I- uh. I think you need to teach me, Alastor..." You admitted, not able to take your eyes off him.
“Finally! The right answer! You’re getting the hang of this now, eh?” He laughed, and patted his thigh - the one you’d dirtied, “Back up here. May as well see how much more you can ruin them.”
Legs shaking, you stood up and straddled his thigh. He leaned in close, “Now get yourself off. You can do that, yes? If your mewls at night are anything to go by, I’d say you’re to be a natural at this!”
The thought of Alastor hearing you play with yourself through your bedroom door sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. He grabbed your chin, angling your head to face him.
“I said you can do that, yes, dear?”
You nodded, hands reaching up to his shoulders to steady yourself as you started grinding down on his thigh like your life depended on it, maybe it did. You could feel his cock hardening. His hands trailed down your body to your hips where they stayed, helping you slowly ride his thigh.
“Theres a good girl, hm? See what happens when you behave?”
You nodded, breathing heavy, “Uh-huh.”
Alastor nodded, his hips gently bucking up for friction. Your hand went to zipper to help, but he brushed it away.
“This is your lesson. Not mine.” He winked.
So you kept riding his thigh, until your own thighs were weak, and you were close. And he knew it.
“If this were a proper lesson, I wouldn’t allow you to cum. But you’ve been so good, so good for me... You may cum.”
You nodded into the nook of his neck, letting out a pathetic whiny mewl as you came, soddening his pants. From the sound of it, he came too, letting out a staticky grunt that would of hurt your ears if you were paying attention, but you were too busy grinding your way through your climax, as he shushed you gently.
He helped you stand up, your thighs shaking and almost giving out under you. A sharp finger pressed into the stain on his pants, before he collected some of the wetness and licked it off.
“Head off to my bedroom, now, love. Get yourself cleaned up. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
The walk to his bedroom was strange to say the least. Your knees shaking and panties wet, of course Angel was going to say something.
“Christ, you look like you been fucked good, sweets.”
“I have, I think...?”
“Oh yeah? And whose the lucky son of a bitch, huh? He knows not to fuck with you, right?” He winked, ever protective of you.
As if on cue, Alastor appeared, strolling carelessly toward you both. A hand on your shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt, Angel, my dear, but I’m afraid we have something to take care of. If you’ll excuse us...” He guided you away, towards his room.
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