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lokiskitten · 3 years

Note

could you please do one where the reader seduces him at a public place / dinner , and leaves him really frustrated and turned on , and he can't even react , but the reader gets it back once they get home

Tom Hiddleston | public teasing

Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : for your first year anniversary, Tom decided to take you out on a romantic date. However, you find a way to distract your mind from the presence of the paparazzis by physically teasing your boyfriend. Once the two of you get home, the man is finally able to teach you a lesson.

warnings : verbal teasing, public teasing, smut, dirty talking, light bondage, spanking, unprotected sex.

Today marked the one year anniversary of both you and your lovely boyfriend Tom. You absolutely adored him, especially as he constantly filled you with happiness no matter his busy schedule. Through filming and attending set, Tom always made sure to shoot you a few texts in order to reassure your anxiety and to make sure that you knew how much he loved you. His fame tended to disturb you at first, but time had allowed you to get used to the intrusive media and paparazzis. Besides, Tom always made sure to keep you out of the spotlights as much as he could.

But tonight, another priority turned out to be more important than avoiding the press. Your boyfriend had decided to take you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant, making sure that everything would be perfect for you to enjoy. You felt excited indeed, but anxiety still bubbled in your stomach due to the constant fear of being photographed against your will.

Sitting down at the fancy table, your elbows rested against the edge of the table whilst your palms anxiously rubbed against one another. Your orbs scanned the candle which stood between you and your boyfriend, this romantic detail truly dipping you into the mood for some extra wine. Tom was going on with his meal, cutting his steak with the help of his fork and knife whilst you found yourself lost in your thoughts. Quickly enough, the grown man noticed how dizzy you looked and couldn’t help but put his stencils down.

“Hey, sweetheart?” He asked before passing his napkin against his lips. Your eyes diverted up towards him, eyebrow raising slightly whilst your hand reached out for your glass of wine. “What would you think about going to the park tomorrow? I heard there’s gonna be lovely weather.” Tom stated, sincerely doubting that this stupid statement would change anything to your anxious mindset. His large hand reached out for yours, thumb rubbing against the back of your hand in order to bring warmth to ease your physical distress.

You simply shrugged though allowed Tom’s hand to take yours, finding comfort in his touch. “I’m sorry.. this was supposed to be a lovely night. I just feel anxious.” You explained, putting your glass down before pulling your hand away in order to grab your own stencils. You finally began to eat, enjoying how nice this food tasted which wasn’t surprising seeing how fancy and elegant this place was. “I understand. But hey, it’s just us right now.” Tom affirmed confidently before going back to eating his meal just like you were doing.

Upon hearing this sentence, your eyes looked up at his focused facial features as mischievous thoughts built up in your mind. At least, it helped you think about something else than the potential presence of the paparazzis. “Just us?..” you asked on an innocent tone whilst your foot gently started to brush against his clothed ankle. Feeling the unexpected sensation against his leg, Tom looked up at you with rather confused eyes. Though this didn’t stop you, in contrary, it only enhanced your inner mischief.

Progressively, your foot moved up to his inner thigh before starting to press against his crotch, gently massaging his prominent bulge as if the two of you were sitting in your living room. Tom immediately reached underneath the table, taking ahold of your ankle in order to put to an end your teasing mannerisms. He looked to his left and then to his right, a happy grin now appearing onto your face upon seeing the distress of your boyfriend. Tom then settled his eyes on you as his large hand squeezed your ankle as a way of begging you to stop this evil action.

“What are you doing?” He whispered whilst leaning in gently, serious eyes staring into your soul. You giggled, biting down onto your tongue in order to stop yourself from laughing too loudly and avoid to attract attention on the two of you. Tom noticed that you were in a playful mood, a smirk now appearing onto his face as he decided to give in your little game and allow you to believe that you had won. Noticing this detail you agreed to pull your foot away, delicately resting it back onto the floor before taking a sip of your beverage.

[ ... ]

About a hour later, the two of you had now arrived back home, a yawn escaping your open mouth as you allowed your keys to fall down into the pot which was in the entrance of the apartment. “Jesus.. I feel absolutely exhausted. I’m so full.” You affirmed tiredly before stretching your arms whilst Tom hung his jacket onto the coat hanger. However, before you could even reach for the living room, you found yourself being suddenly pushed against the wall by none but your beloved boyfriend.

A giggle escaped your lips as your brain understood what this was all about, Tom’s stern look being enough to make you understand that he was now getting revenge for what you had previously done back at the restaurant. Guttural groans echoed behind his closed lips, blue eyes scanning your body as his head titled hungrily. You continued to playfully giggle, arms attempting to move up to his shoulders though without ever succeeding due to his own arms being in the way. This was a game the two of you had progressively developed throughout your relationship, a personal kink you both enjoyed to involve during intercourses.

“You deserve proper punishment.” Tom affirmed as his blue eyes finally looked up at yours, his facial features remaining strict. You knew that your part of the job was to refrain from putting up an attitude nor laughing, yet you couldn’t help but smile due to your playful mood which was progressively taking over your body and senses. Taking ahold of your arm, the man dragged you all the way up to the bedroom in a hurry, closing the door behind the two of you for extra privacy even though no one else stood in this shared apparement of yours. When Tom set you free, you stepped back towards the bed as you watched your boyfriend tear open his fancy shirt.

The buttons fell onto the floor, though Tom didn’t truly care as he knew that he had a bunch of other shirts waiting for him in his closet. You bit down onto your bottom lip, head tilting in a teasing manner as you waited for the grown man to finally give you the punishment you deserved. Approaching your silhouette, his hands pushed you down onto the bed before he took the initiative to remove his belt. Not once did you flinch, being fully aware that your boyfriend would never do anything to hurt you and that not even unintentionally. Tom took ahold of your ankles and dragged you close to his body and immediate reach, using the leather product in order to lock your hands together for good.

With you being at his mercy, a mischievous smirk now appeared onto Tom’s face as he looked down at you. “Look at you now...” he began, head tilting in awe. “Not so fierce anymore, huh? Do you still feel like teasing me?” The man questioned, earning nothing from you but a simple smile. He squinted his eyes, brain thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you. Meanwhile, his veiny hand brushed against your elevated knee, sending chills down your spine. Both of his hands suddenly reached down for your shirt, tearing it apart with the help of his natural strength he had previously used to reap open his own upper piece of clothing.

You yelped, chest now exposed to him as warmth started to build up in your needy crotch. You wanted him; you absolutely needed him. “My sweet girl.” He affirmed before flipping you around onto your stomach. Your bum was now exposed to him, his hand reaching down for your hips which he gripped in order to pull your ass upwards. This position felt uncomfortable, but you remained patient as you knew how good it would turn out to feel once your boyfriend would finally be rocking his hips against yours. “I’ll teach you what it costs to tease me in public.” Tom promised as his hand caressed and made its way up your back.

“Do the loki voice-!” You began only to be brutally interrupted by the sensation of Tom’s hand squeezing the back of your head. “No talking.” He ordered, the familiar mischievous tone answering your demand which caused a smirk to appear on your face. This specific tone was something thousands of girls dreamt to be submitted to, yet only you was able to enjoy it live and stereo. Besides, Tom secretly enjoyed it too. You giggled, allowing your boyfriend to carry on with his own plans which you would gladly accept to submit to.

Finally, Tom took the initiative to pull your pants and underwear down to your mid thighs, exposing your wet cunt to his sight and the lustful air which filled the room. You moaned, betraying the fact that you were indeed enjoying this little session of pure revenge. Again, Tom chuckled darkly. His fingers moved down to your moist entrance, gently rubbing up and down your slit in order to properly spray the wetness around before starting to focus onto your clit. He teased it for a couple of seconds, rubbing circles against the hard bud which was meant to hide underneath its protective hood.

You moaned, head tilting back slightly before Tom decided to pull his fingers away from your core. Pouting sadly face to this disappointment, your head turned to the side in a desperate attempt to see what the man was now doing. Unfortunately, this gesture didn’t turn out to be any successful. He was now working on removing his own pants, allowing the piece of clothing to fall down to his ankles as his hardening cock was set free. His tip brushed against your wet slit, his warmth mixing with yours as pants started to escape his parted lips.

“Tommy..” you whimpered submissively, earning a harsh spank against your naked bum for stepping past his main rule. He shushed you, his thumb and index finger taking a gentle hold of his shaft in order to properly guide it into your wetness. Spreading your swollen lips with the help of his other hand, Tom managed to ease himself inside of you rather easily, the sensation of his hardness sliding inside of your core causing you the moan out of relief. You probably wouldn’t have been able to handle waiting any longer.

“Ahh-.. such a dirty girl.” He praised, hands now moving away from both of your respective genitals in order to take a firm hold of your hips. Tom was soon to reach balls deep, brushing past most of your sensitive spots and causing your legs to tremble gently. He felt indulgent enough to offer you a couple of seconds to adjust to his size- even though you’ve felt it plenty of times by now, which he was aware of. The thrusting process was soon to occur, gaining in confidence and harshness as seconds passed by.

Tom winced and moaned lustfully, still holding onto your hips as if his life depended on it. You added up to the melody by allowing your own moans to escape your lips, enjoying the way his tip repetitively rubbed against your g-spot and hit your cervix. Your joint hands gripped onto the bedsheets, eyelids shutting close so that your brain would be fully able to enjoy what was going on and building up in your lower abdomen. “Fuck- your going to make me cum sooner than...” Tom stated through his winces, abs contracted as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Before the two of you could know it, Tom’s shaft throbbed and clenched, semen spraying out of his urethra and landing against your pulsating cervix. You moaned in awe, Tom towering over your body as his hands now fell beside your head. His digits clenched against the bedsheets, guttural moans escaping his shaky lips as he didn’t refrain from ejaculating all of his sperm inside of your stretched wetness. Your bum moved up against his hips, enhancing the intense contact whilst your boyfriend took time to properly wash his orgasm away.

Once he was finally done coming inside of you, the older man pulled out and allowed his tired body to fall down onto the bed besides your recovering self. The two of you panted, your body relaxing against the bed sheets as it was now your mind’s turn to recover from this intense intercourse.

I hope you guys enjoyed this! Feel free to leave a request. ❤️

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Note

I’m going to try come up with other ideas lol but these jumped out at me. I would absolutely use these for something! I’m saving them too because I just might!

But if you feel like it, these combined scenarios could be really fun for a sarcastic, grouchy ass Flip or Kylo AU. It could be anything from enemies to antagonists to the guy being in trouble with you currently from doing stupid shit and trying to make up with you! Anything you think!

your enemy has been badly wounded, and somebody needs to bandage them up, so you agree to help them, and suddenly they're shirtless, and you can't help but admire their body, something this cheeky motherfucker takes notice of

there's only one bed, but this time, they're arguing over who should sleep on the floor, which nobody agrees to, so instead they end up sharing, incredibly annoyed over having to share their space (it’s not like friends to lovers, in which they both awkwardly get into bed. this is straight up just. i will set this bed on fire if you don’t stay on your side)

The Longest Knight {Sir Kylo Ren x Reader}

author's notes: hello, hello! shannon, dear, you always seem to know what I'm in need of when you send requests in. I've been dying for an excuse to write some medieval/knight Kylo, and this fits in perfectly with that AU, so thank you! <3

**THERE ARE SOME DARK(ER) THEMES IN THIS STORY, BUT ONLY AT THE VERY BEGINNING (there’s an indicator of when the dark content ends, in bold, you can’t miss it). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS AND TW’S BEFORE PROCEEDING!**

warnings: some angst. some gore. some fluff. smut. enemies-with-benefits. sex w/o feelings. kylo is a huge douche (but in, like, a lowkey sexy way).

tw's: (at the very beginning): dead bodies & blood, vivid depictions of wounds/injuries, brief depictions of battle, implied (battle-related) murder. mentions of sex work (later on in the story, not relating to the reader character).

word count: 4.4k

terms to know: loincloth: groin-covering cloth tied around the waist (literally just underwear). bedswerver: “adulterer” (an insult). mamillare: medieval breast band (bra).

When the sounds of marching footfall, deep cries of manly battle, and shod hooves pounding on the drought-hardened ground had ceased from the air, you saddle your horse and ride out to the far field of your property.

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hits you before any bodies are even in view. Your prized stallion slows his trot, nostrils flaring and ears perked forward as the scene of battle presents itself to both of you.

He begins to snort and whinny in acute panic at the sight of so many corpses, both human and horse. Your stomach begins to churn, and you can barely bring yourself to look upon the scene as your heel encourages him onward, wanting to make sure there aren’t any surviving soldiers.

Both sides seem to have suffered great loss, although you’re unsure which corpses belong to which side. The conflict betwixt Alderaan and Naboo has been dragging on much too long, and at the end of the day, is any conflict truly worth all of the lives lost?

You certainly didn’t think so, but perhaps you’re just too close to this war, incapable of having an unbiased opinion due to the loss of your beloved husband at the hands of Sir Kylo Ren, the Alderaanean calvary general and the most feared man across all five kingdoms.

As you make your rounds to check for survivors, much to the dismay of your steed, you quickly lose almost all hope that anyone laid here ended up surviving the brutality apparently brought down upon them during the fight.

Suddenly, your horse lifts himself up on hinds legs ever so slightly, jogging in place as a barely-audible groan comes from one of the men. His hand moves ever so slightly, and you quickly rush over to him, dismounting with a small first aid bag.

His helmet is that of a high-ranking official, but on which side he belongs, it’s too hard to tell. Not that it truly matters, you’d take just about any man with the courage to fight these battles.

“Sir?” You say, kneeling down beside the large man. “Do you remember what happened to you?”

He grunts lowly, winter-chapped lips opening in an attempt to speak. “S-Stomach.”

Once your mind registers his husky words, you look down at his abdomen and see that his armor seems to have been compromised in a spot right on the side of his stomach. Fresh blood seeps from the deep wound, and you cringe, grabbing one of the towels from your pack to gently wipe away some of the blood, but the tear in flesh is so deep, it’s impossible to do with just one towel. **dark content warnings ENDS**

“My estate is just a short ride from here. I cannot hold your weight myself, but if you can mount my horse, I will take you back and mend your wounds to the best of my ability.”

The mask nods softly, slowly but surely lifting himself up off the ground, wobbling towards your horse, who snorts nervously. He seemingly understands the severity of the situation, though, and stands still as the knight sits himself on his back.

From there, he lays back, breath catching in his throat as his injuries are tweaked with each of the horses’ strides. You hold onto the reins, leading your stallion back to the house.

After quite a bit of maneuvering and a lot of quarreling with the injured knight, you finally manage to set him up the cot in your spare bedroom. He sits down on the chair as you do so, mumbling and grumbling about his pain. You found it quite annoying, really, but you can’t really blame him for acting in such a way.

“You’ll need to remove your armor, sir. I cannot treat your wounds with it on.”

“By God’s bones.” He curses under his breath in annoyance, but stands and removes his body armor nonetheless.

Piece by piece is peeled from his body, his physically intimidating figure revealed slowly to your curious eyes. Only his under-layers were left, soon enough, and you found it a bit odd that he hadn’t taken his helmet off first. You would think that would be a great relief to have the proper air exposure on your face, but you’re not really in a place to make assumptions about that sort of thing.

His brilliantly alabaster skin is severely bloodied, bruised, and badly butchered. He would require quite some time to heal and recover, but if you learned anything from being married to an army man, it’s that they’re all stubborn bastards who never take the proper time to allow time for their bodies to properly heal.

He’s soon fully exposed to you, minus his helmet and threadbare loincloth, and you have to look away quickly as your cheeks heat up. The small garment left very little to the imagination, and this knight was...well endowed, to put it kindly.

Putting your own personal feelings aside for the betterment of the patient, you look back up at him with a small smile. “You may remove your helmet now, good sir.”

“I cannot reach up to grab it from my head.” He says in a flat, unamused voice.

“Of course.” You scold yourself for not thinking of that. “Well, if you lay down on the cot, I shall remove it for you.”

Instead of protest, which is what you expected, he complied with your instructions and laid down on the cot. He grunts satisfyingly at the comfort of a mattress, most likely used to sleeping on the ground.

When you reach for the bottoms of his helmet to pull it off, he suddenly snatches your wrist, stopping you instantly.

“If you need touch me, ask before doing so.” His voice is nothing more than a growl.

You almost roll your eyes, starting to truly become annoyed with this knight. You invited him into your home and you’re willing to be his bedside nurse...and he has the audacity to request something like this.

Again you’re forced to put your personal feelings aside for the sake of your patient and for the maintenance of your bedside manner, forcing a smile onto your face. “With all due respect, sir, I’m your nurse for the time being. I will be needing to touch you quite often. Am I really expected to ask each and every time?”

“Yes.” He replies.

Your jaw clenches and you wish nothing more in this moment than to smack this man right across the face.

“Fine. May I please remove your helmet?”

Sparing you the assurance of a vocal reply, the mask simply nods, and you pull it over his head. When the face of your patient is revealed to your eyes, you’re appalled.

It’s Sir Kylo Ren...the man that murdered your husband.

You drop the helmet onto the ground, metal clattering as it rocks back and forth once it’s settled in one spot on the hardwood. This can’t be real.

He snarls. “Why are you looking upon me with that expression? Have you never seen a man before? I have wounds that need tended to, girl, and I’d like to be out of here before sundown.”

Anger begins to boil your blood, tears burning in your eyes as you look down at the man before you.

“You bastard.” Your hand raises, ready to strike him clean against the cheek. He catches your fist in his hand before you can, though.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.” Kylo warns, squeezing your fist. “I’ll have to have you beheaded for hitting an army man, and your head is much too pretty to be put to such waste.”

You snort, yanking yourself from his grip, teeth gritting as you walk out to fetch all the medical supplies. He’s wearing a cocky expression when you walk back in.

“I recognize you.” He says.

You huff, unamused. “How could you possibly recognize me? We’ve never met.”

His lips curl up into a devious smirk. “You’re right, we haven’t met before, but I recognize you from your husband’s description. I asked him what you looked like, since he was babbling on and on about you.”

You freeze up, bottom lip beginning to quiver as Sir Kylo continues.

“Then I drove my blade straight through his pathetic chest, and later that night, I touched myself as I thought of you.”

He chuckles deviously.

“Bedswerver!” You yell, cocking your fists once more and lunging at him, ready to strike once more. But then, you stop yourself, knowing the consequences you’d surely face should you actually hit him.

Your fists lower and you simply say nothing, preparing the cloths in the warm water. The tears run down your cheeks on their own volition, but you quickly wipe them away before turning back towards him.

“He wasn’t worthy of your company, Y/N.” Kylo says as you begin to clean the wounds on his stomach. “And he clearly didn’t satisfy you in the way you needed, considering the manner in which you looked over my body when I took my armor off.”

His hand reaches around and squeezes your ass, making you jump.

“How long has it been, little lamb? A young woman like you shouldn’t have to live without a man to satisfy her aching need.”

You can’t pretend that you’re not aroused by his words, by his touch. But you’d never let him have you, not in a thousand years. So, you quickly swat his hand away and continue cleaning his wounds. “That’s none of your concern, Sir Kylo. I am perfectly content without a man and that’s all I’m going to say on the matter.”

He laughs. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one. I bet you’re aching right now, just from my words and my simple touch.”

Before he can touch you further, you back away, limbs trembling with anger and frustration. You dunk the bloody rag back into the bowl of water, ring it out a bit, then throw it onto his chest.

“Clean the wounds yourself, since you can obviously move your hands and arms perfectly fine.” You say, wiping your own on a dry cloth. “I’ll be back to bandage you in a bit.”

“Don’t think of me too much, lamb. You’ll release too quickly.” He snickers as you slam the door shut behind you, bursting into tears the moment you step foot into your bedroom.

You sob quietly, the freshly-healed stitches of your heart popping open one at a time, the grief and pain of losing your beloved consuming you once more.

And now you’re here, mending his killer.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes everything you have, every ounce of willpower, to wake up and face Sir Kylo every single day. You know you’re doing the right thing by helping him, but that doesn’t make dealing with him any easier.

He’s impossibly stubborn, arrogant beyond comprehension, and increasingly grumpy. But, you just have to keep going, keep pushing through, reminding yourself that each day brings you closer and closer to his inevitable departure.

You’ve all but blocked out his inappropriate and antagonizing comments or remarks, just getting his bandages replaced and then leaving the room as quickly as possible.

Today, though, he’s achieved a new level of jackassery, a thing you thought impossible until he did it. And boy, did he do it.

“I’ve made arrangements for a few whores to come and provide me some...company.”

Your fist tightens around the bandage in your hand. He smirks.

“You’re more than welcome to join us. There’s plenty of me to go around, little lamb. You’ll get your turn.”

“No, thanks. I think I’d rather stab myself with a sword.” You reply, beginning to switch out his bandages. “You’re lucky I’m even allowing it to occur in my house.”

He just chuckles. “You’d probably be bad, anyway.”

You suddenly rip the bandage off of his skin, causing him to cry out in pain. He looks at you, and you glare down at him. “Just...can you please just stop talking for once in your life? Must you always berate me when all I’ve done over the past few weeks is take care of you? Is this what kindness, genuine kindness, gets me?”

He suddenly seems to sober up, to let what he’s done to you sink in. It doesn’t last long, but you still see it. Perhaps he does have the capability to feel at least some sense of remorse.

Kylo stays quiet for the rest of the time you tend to his wounds, and when you turn to leave, the two words you’ve been convinced are not in his vocabulary, come from the behind you.

“Thank you.”

This sliver of empathy is short lived, especially after the girls from the local brothel make their way up to his room.

“Oh! Oh! Sir Kylo!”

You shake your head, attempting to read in the study, which is located on the other side of house from the guest bedroom. Yet, their screams, cries and the various other lewd noises still manage to make their way to your ears.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” “Take it, whore, take it!” “Kyloooooooo!”

The temptation to go up there and kick the girls out is increasing by the second, but you don’t. Maybe this will help mellow him out a bit, make him more manageable. Plus, you’re pretty sure that you’d have to carve your eyes out after walking in on whatever they’re doing up behind that closed door.

Unfortunately for you, it becomes progressively more difficult to focus on your book as the burn between your thighs intensifies. It’s been almost two years since your husband was murdered, which means that it’s been a little over that since you were last intimate with someone.

Normally, and up until Sir Kylo entered your household, you were more than fine subduing your sexual desires. You haven’t once touched yourself, not that you’d really know how to anyway, and you certainly weren’t about to start now.

You cross your legs, hoping that’ll quell some of the burning, but it only makes it worse. Another half an hour passes and your hand now rests on your thigh, slowly inching down towards your soaked and quivering pussy.

Just a quick touch won’t hurt...he doesn’t have to know...

Luckily, a knock at the door brings your motions to a stop. You sigh in relief, walking over to open the door. When you do, you’re met with a bandaged bare torso, a very muscular bare torso. His skin glistens with sweat and the smell of sex radiates from his essence.

He’s still breathing heavily as he stands in the doorway, looking down at you.

“We’re finished upstairs.” He says breathily. “I’m due for my afternoon bandage change, whenever you’re ready.”

You watch him saunter away, admiring the way his muscles stretch and tense with each stride. You’re burning up by now, both your skin and your arousal, and you wonder how you’re going to get through this next bandage change.

When you enter the room, the musk of sex is thick in the air, humidity at a suffocating level. You try to ignore it, try not to let it get to you, but it’s just surrounding you.

Your skin begins to glisten, brow furrowed as you focus on trying to change these bandages as quickly as possible. Kylo seems to take notice of your hurry, your sudden perspiring.

“Is something wrong?” He asks you, biting back a smirk. “You seem flustered.”

Nodding, you continue on with the bandaging. “I’m fine, just a bit warm is all.”

Kylo hums, reaching down to grab your wrist as you reach up to re-bandage the wound on his chest. He brings your fingers up to his lips, sucking the tips into his mouth gently, tongue swiping over the pads of your digits.

You try to pull away, to leave before you do something you regret, but his hold on you is firm. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t actually want him to stop.

Oh lord, this is bad. It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t want this. He murdered your husband, the man you loved. He’s so smug and cocky and yet...it’s what you’ve been wanting this whole time, the thing you’ve tried to suppress, to not let yourself want.

But now, everything else be damned, you want this. You need this. And damnit, you’re gonna have it.

His lips release your fingertips with a lewd pop! sound, an arrogant smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You haven’t tried to pull away or tell me off in a minute or two. Is everything alright?”

You huff. “Just do it.”

He raises his eyebrows, sitting up a little. “Do what? What do you want me to do, little lamb?”

“You know what I want.”

“Oh yes, I’m fully aware of what you want.” He smirks. “But I want to hear you say it out loud.”

You cross your arms on your chest, trying to ignore the twang of guilt that shoots through you as you prepare to say the words aloud.

“Fine. I want you to f-fuck me.”

“That’s right. I knew you wanted it.” Kylo takes your hand and trails it down his muscular abdomen, stopping just above where his loincloth sits on his hips.

“Take it off.”

You’re chewing your lip numb as you reach down and undo the tie holding the garment on. Your breath hitches as you slide it off, exposing his member, which is hardening steadily.

“Instead of staring, perhaps you’d like to try touching it?” He smirks.

You shoot him a glare. “Stop talking, for once in your life, please spare my ears the sound of your constant squabble.”

Kylo chuckles, putting his hands behind his head.

Your hand wraps around the base of his length, and he grunts softly. It’s your turn to wear a smirk.

“Oh, do you like that, Sir Kylo?”

He huffs. “Every man likes their cock being touched. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

You squeeze his shaft, drawing a deep grunt from his lips and small buck of his hips. He looks away, jaw clenched in an attempt to prevent any further noises.

This fact only makes you more determined, hand pumping his cock with more vigor, alternating between different paces and pressures to really drive him crazy.

You’re thoroughly enjoying this, drinking in the sight of him trying his absolute hardest not to react to the touches that so obviously arouse him. You tease him even more, using your fingers to touch certain parts of his length.

Well, it’s fun for the few minutes it lasts, but suddenly, you find yourself in his position, laid back on the cot. He’s on top of you, now, pushing the skirts of your dress up, fingers yanking the laces on your bodice.

He quickly pulls it off, followed by your skirts, leaving you in only your mamillare and your loincloth. His eyes roam your newly exposed skin for a moment before his hand slips down between your thighs, fingers pressing up against the fabric.

“I knew it. Were you listening, little lamb? Were you listening to me fuck those whores and wishing it was you?”

Your breath hitches. “Well, it was sort of hard not to listen when the girls were screaming.”

His fingers wrap around the waist tie, pulling them down to fully expose your wet heat. He smirks, rubbing around until he finds that one spot that has your back arching and a gasp escaping your lips.

Before he can even say anything, you reiterate his words in a mocking tone. “Every woman likes being touched there. Don’t go thinking that it means anything.”

He huffs, rubbing you harder.

“Tell me how wet you got when you heard me fucking those whores. Tell me that you wanted a turn on my cock, wondered how good I’d feel inside you.”

“N-No.” You say, a stern expression on your face. “I’ll never say that to you.”

His jaw clenches as he bends down, lips next to your ear. “You'll be screaming it once I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widen when his fingers slowly press up into your entrance.

“Kylo...” You’ve never been touched in this way before. It’s...different, and not necessarily unpleasant.

He sees your hesitation. “Trust me, you’ll like it.”

And you did.

His digits begin moving in and out of you, curling up occasionally to stimulate a certain tender spot inside you. You’re biting down on your lip, surely hard enough to break the skin, trying your darndest not to give him the privilege of hearing your noises.

As you did to him, seeing you suppress your noises only spurs him on more, movements becoming quicker, swifter. Your orgasm draws closer with each skilled stroke, but just before you reach your peak, he pulls out.

You thought you wanted to hit him before; now, you kind of want to pop some of his abdomen stitches.

“Why did you do that?”

He laughs devilishly, reaching down to pump his cock, slicking it with the juices of your arousal. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you get off that easily, did you?”

“Well, I was sort of hoping...”

You’re brought to silence when he crawls on top of you, trapping you beneath his massive form. His mushroom head swirls around your entrance, collecting some of your slick before pressing it inside of you.

It’s been quite a while since you’ve had anyone, and you don’t think you’ve ever had someone of his size before, so you gasp softly as he presses forth. Soon, his entire length is seated in you, stretching and filling you to the brim.

His eyes are squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he tries to remain still in order to allow you an adjustment period. Once you’ve had some time, he begins moving his hips, rolling them at a steady pace.

“Knew you’d have a nice little cunt,” He growls, teeth baring. “So wet and tight for me, little lamb.”

You bite your numbing lip in an attempt to prevent any of the desperate moans or cries that want to escape. He’s doing something similar, jaw clenched tightly.

Only the wet squelch and sharp snapping of skin colliding can be heard between the two of you, minus the occasional grunt or sharp inhale from either of you, which is quickly shut down almost as soon as it slips out.

Soon, you feel your climax begin to appear on the horizon, walls clenching and pulsing around his cock. He takes notice, quickly speeding his rhythm up, exhaling loudly through his flared nostrils.

He’s getting close, too, balls pulling up as his body prepares itself for orgasm. The energy between you two, as well as your physical movements, quickly turn desperate.

“Don’t release inside me.”

“I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to.” He says, smugly.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “I see that even the throws of passion and ecstasy is still not enough to tamper your unbearable attitude.”

“There is nothing that can stop me from taking the opportunity to get a rise out of you, milady.” He smirks before his brows knit in the center of his forehead. “If you’re gonna cum, I suggest you do it s-soon.”

Your eyes flutter shut, hips attempting to lift up off the mattress, wanting him to hit that certain spot inside you. As soon as you find the right angle, a choked sob leaves your lips as you’re quickly brought and tossed over the edge.

Kylo groans softly, thrusting rapidly before pulling out at the last minute, spilling his seed all over your abdomen.

Both of you are breathless as you ride out your climaxes, basking in the peaceful bliss that washes over your body, basking in the luxury of his utter and complete silence. It was a welcome change, a much-needed reprieve from the past few weeks of dealing with him.

He eventually flops down onto the mattress beside you, grabbing and re-securing his loincloth around his hips. You’re already a bit sore from being stretched for the first time in two years.

“May I just sleep here tonight, Sir Kylo? Unless you’d like to carry me back over to my bedroom.”

The side-eye he gives you is incredibly humorous, but you contain your laughter, not wanting to add oil to the flame.

“I won’t be a bother. I will stay on this side of the cot; you’ll barely even know I’m here.”

“Are you truly incapable of walking yourself back to your bedroom after one session of fucking? Was I really that amazing that I’ve left you unable to move about the house?” He laughs.

"And suddenly, the pain of walking over to my room seems less painful than staying here and listening to your vexing squabble.”

Kylo huffs. “If you stay here for the night, you may not breach the center of the mattress. I will kick you out if you even come close to bumping into me or making any sort of physical contact.”

Mocking his words from earlier, you smirk. “I’m flattered that you think I’d even want to touch you.”

“Very funny.” He says, flatly, rolling over to face away from you. “Just stay on your fucking side of the bed.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up to braid your hair for bed before fluffing the goose-feather pillow beneath your head, settling down for the night. Soon, Sir Kylo’s obnoxious snores bounce off the walls and you put your pillow over your head, hoping to muffle the noise.

God, even his snores are arrogant.

The next morning, when your eyes flutter open at the first sign of light through the window, you find the sheets next to you vacant.

You sit up, eyebrows furrowed as you look around the room, ears open to listen for any noise anywhere in the house. You don’t hear anything.

Then, you see a piece of rolled up parchment on his pillow along with a small satchel. When you open the pouch, you’re shocked to see a pile of shiny coins. You unrolled the note, reading the sloppy script.

For the medical supplies and for your trouble. Here’s hoping our paths never cross again.

-Kylo

As you read the very brief and to-the-point note, you can practically hear his snide voice in your head reciting it. The cold, cocky tone of his words shone through the parchment and ink, incredibly so. You huff, tossing the note back onto the pillow before getting up to begin the day.

Well...at least you’ll never have to see him again.

133 notes · View notes

hanjizung · 3 years

Text

Stranger Danger.

Lee Minho x Reader x Bang Chan

Word count: 3.1K

♡ Warnings ♡: SMUT, stablished relationship, open relationship, threesome, drinking, use of alcohol, voyeurism, vaginal & anal sex, unprotected & protected sex, use of lubrication, name calling, mentions of jealousy, slightly choking, hair pulling, creampie.

This was a request i got some time ago from this prompt list. [ 35) “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”] I hope you all enjoy this!

Completely drunk, you tripped with your own feet, separating from the needy kiss to laugh at your carelessness and then pushing the guy you were with against your front door, your fingers got a hold of your keys quickly and magically they found their way to the lock.

The handsome stranger whose name you remembered to be something like Christian, Charlie –or just anything starting with C– continued to kiss your neck, leaving purpling bruises along your skin.

You opened the door, making Chase fall backward when you turned the doorknob to open it and get inside to continue your passionate encounter in the privacy of your home.

Again, you laughed and helped him stand still and close the door behind you, throwing your keys to the coffee table and letting your bag fall to the floor. Clayton missed no time in getting back at you, pushing you against the door and pinning your hands above your head. At this point your legs were already starting to shake, all the buildup of the moment since he told you hello at the club had been a great start, the jokes he'd told you, the flirty comments he allowed himself to say with a smirk and the way he let his large hands travel all over your body when you two were pushed together when dancing were the cause of this.

Of course, maybe this unholy state of horniness was also triggered by grand amount of alcohol you drank since you arrived at the place, but also because since a few days before you were feeling extra needy, and your hands and toys weren't enough to satisfy you anymore, you were craving a real man.

And this Christoph guy really offered to help you, when you grinded against him for the first time while dancing and he held you tight and growled in your ear. It had been a fantastic view, your hand on his cheek, his on your hip and his eyes closed with his nose scrunched and moving so he growled right in your ear. It turned you like you've never felt before.

You jumped after he indicated you to do so, carrying you to the nearest surface where he could start what he was there for.

Taking off your top, you threw it to the coffee table behind you, returning your attack to his mouth, your tongue all the way on his mouth savoring the alcohol he was drinking earlier with you.

The guy was as excited as you were, his hands were on your hips, his grip there being strong enough to leave some mark, and your hands took advantage of the position, touching his well marked abdomen and feeling his muscles.

Unluckily, all the fun that was about to happen ended when the front door opened again and the light turned on, and standing by the front door with a case that you knew was full of his own clothes and some gifts for you, stood your boyfriend.

He wasn't pissed, clearly. You'd call the expression on his face something more like 'amusement', as he enjoyed the view of you on top of some other guy. A raised eyebrow and devilish smile soon replaced the previous expression of surprise.

"Who is that?" the guy under you asked, but you just rolled your eyes and tried to kiss him. He didn't seem to be a bit bothered, as you felt the lack of a bulge against you.

"Oh, she didn't tell you about me? I'm Minho, her boyfriend" he answered for you, taking his jacket off and sitting on a couch next to where you were with the blond hottie.

"You have a boyfriend?" blondie asked. You nodded, not ashamed.

"We have an open relationship. Now please, weren't you going to fuck me?" you pouted, going near his ear to murmur something only he could hear. "I'm so needy, I've been so alone and I need to be filled, please help me…" and you looked at him, with your best puppy eyes.

Muscles smiled, shrugging. "If your boyfriend doesn't mind, I might as well help the pretty damsel then" he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

Minho sat silently, his eyes looking at every move and every touch of you with the other guy, he was paying special attention when you left little moans that encouraged the other man to do what you liked.

No name had special skills, his hands ghosting on your thighs as you grinded on him desperately, his hard cock hitting you again where it was before, and surprisingly, in the blink of an eye, Nameless had you under him, your panties on the floor and his fingers tracing circles around your clit, teasing you and causing you to close your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the attention that he was giving you.

Having your legs wide open, you knew that Carlos wasn’t the only one paying attention to the way your body was reacting; the way his long fingers made you drip, and how hot it was to be supervised by Minho. You were enjoying every second of this situation; being the center of attention and feeling so spoiled from how good you were being treated.

Long fingers suddenly entered you, making you moan and bite your lip. The guy who was between your legs added his thumb to the mixture and started massaging your clit in slow circles, he was making you feel amazing, but yet when you opened his eyes, you couldn't look at him, focusing on Minho instead. He had his hands on his thighs, the bulge in his pants allowed you to know what you already suspected, he was enjoying the show, maybe a little too much.

Connecting his eyes with yours, Minho smiled. That's when you tried to provoke him, moving one of your fingers to your lips and playing with them before allowing it to enter your mouth. You pretended that it was his hand instead, licking the index finger once and once again, until he couldn't resist and succumbed to your game, undoing his belt and taking his cock in his hands. You could see his tip leaking some precum, which he used to lubricate the rest of himself before he continued to enjoy the performance.

The unknown guy inserted another finger in you, making you squirm and moan particularly loudly –mostly because you wanted to give a proper show to your beloved boyfriend, but truly the guy knew what he was doing– and one of your hands went to take off the clothes that covered your hardened nipples, pinchen them between your pointer finger and your thumb and biting your lip, trying to look as the sexiest person alive. Your eyes traveled down to where he had his hand busy, and your mouth watered.

Minho had his cock in his hand, he was stroking it lazily, his fingers were so elegantly wrapped around it and his length was slightly glistening from the lubrication he provided, the illumination wasn't very good, but you were sure that you were a lucky one for being able to see him in that state; he seemed like he was one of those old fancy paintings that was controversial during the old days, his expression of pleasure when he closed his eyes in ecstasy and the wink he gave you when he saw you looking at him, plus the fingers that were inside you… you saw him mouthing you name and that was all it took to have you orgasm around the hottie's fingers, mumbling pure nonsense because your mind was blinded from how you felt.

You lied there, with your legs open and panting heavily, trying to recover from how intense that orgasm had been. Once you opened your eyes again, you looked into the blonde's lustful eyes and went "I want you to fuck me real hard" with your best puppy expression.

The giggle that came out of his mouth was adorable, but you didn't have time to think of that when you pulled his hand so he would be above you, him trying to steady himself to not fall on you and once he was steady, he aligned his cock with your entrance, you could already feel it, waiting for it so expectantly like a kid on a toy store…

Only to be left disappointed when Minho stood up and stopped the guy by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think I ever caught your name," Mimho said, grinning at him because he knew he ruined the experience for the both of you.

"I'm Chris, or Chan if you like that better. Do you have a problem? I thought you guys were okay with this" he said, removing himself from you. You rolled your eyes, but said nothing, waiting for Minho to handle the situation.

"Actually, yes, now that you ask, there is a little problem, but I think we can work together to solve it, depending on what Y/N says, of course" you looked at him with wide eyes when you heard your name, then looked at Chan to find him looking at you as well.

"Y/N, baby, you know you're precious and real hot stuff, I've missed you too, sexy, and I'm a little jealous that you're letting him fuck you first. What if we make an arrangement, huh?" he asked.

With an arched eyebrow, you answered him "what are you asking me, exactly?"

And the answer to your own question didn't come from him, surprising you.

"I think he wants me to fuck your ass… are you really okay with that? Of course you don't have to, you can suck me off too" Chris said, looking at Minho who nodded, and then at you.

Not answering, you stood up and ran to your room, bringing a half filled bottle of lube that you handed to Chan who was still on the couch.

"Good girl, God, I knew that you would be greedy enough to take the both of us at the same time. You, stand up" he said to Chris, who quickly followed your boyfriend's order.

Minho sat on the couch, taking off all his clothes and then making you sit on him, pumping himself a few times before entering you. Your previous climax helped for you to adjust to his size, and once you felt ready you simply nodded.

Chan seemed to understand, squirting a bit of lube on your asshole and massaging you gently for a few seconds. He pushed your back to Minho's chest, exposing your bottoms to him, and being this close to Minho, you heard him clearly when he spoke to you.

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to, hmm? What do you think, would you like that, kitten? A pretty collar with my name on it so you know who's your owner?" he asked, voice deep and serious to demonstrate his dominant voice. You felt his hand petting your hair gently when he was done asking you. Your cheeks blushed intensely at his words, an inevitable whimper coming out of your lips caused by the effect his questions had in you, but said nothing because you knew the way your walls tightened round him were enough reaction for him.

Behind you, you felt Chan aligning his member to enter you, the tip of a condom that you've never realized exactly when he put it on making you squirm in excitement as you turned your neck to look at him through your lashes, waiting for him to finally enter you and be destroyed by the two of them.

Chris smiled at you gently, and placing his hands on your hips to hold you still, he finally entered you. He started slowly, afraid of hurting you much from this weird sensation that you'd never grow accustomed to at all, and you opened your mouth, face resting on Minho's chest as you felt every inch of Chan going deeper into you. It was like that until he stopped, staying still for you to get used to the feeling of something inside your ass.

"Y-you can move now" you babbled, not only at Chan but to Minho as well, you were positive your body could take them at the same thought.

After hearing you, Chan growled under his breath, pulling out from you at the same pace he had entered you; under you, Minho placed his hands on your thighs and tried his best to do the same as Chan and finally start the real party, there was no ending to his plans until he had you screaming his name in pleasure.

Soon, the three of you found a good pace to follow, and then all that could be heard on your small department was the hurried breathing of the three of you, along with the particular noise of naked skin against more skin and your moans, crying out from how overwhelmed you felt. It was weirdly unexplainable, you felt amazing being with the two of you, but you felt so good that you couldn't think straight anymore.

Chan's hand snaked on your back until he reached your hair, his fingers tangling themselves on locks of your hair and suddenly pulling it, dragging a surprised scream from your throat.

Minho took that opportunity to his advantage, having you away from him but still inside you, he could clearly see you from under, appreciating how much of a goddess you seemed, he was enamored with everything of you, also seeming amazed at the fact of how much he was enjoying to see you being used by another man while you still showed that you preferred him over them.

He raised one of his hands to play with your chest, playing with your nipples with one hand as the other hand went higher to wrap itself around your exposed neck, it became too much of a te ration for him to simply ignore, so he squeezed you gently, carefully because you had too much going on already.

Meanwhile, Chan pulled you towards by your hair towards his chest. He wasn't as gentle as Minhon was trying to be, but the contrast of that excited you more.

His hand traveled across your stomach, you felt his hand touching every inch of skin that was on the way to where he was going, and when he reached there, he started leaving little kisses on your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and making you shake a little.

Upon seeing what he was doing, Minho stopped playing with your nipples to grab one of your hands that were holding his wrist, tangling his fingers with yours. From the was your oussy started to contract and the tears forming on the corner of your eyes, he knew that you were close.

His other hand left your throat free as he looked for your other hand to hold it as well, he wanted to let you know that he was there for you, and that he was paying attention to your reactions.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" you cried out, causing Minho to smile gently and to move his hips to thrust as hard as he could into you to bring you over the edge.

He succeeded, and your mind went blank while strange noises of satisfaction came from you and your interiors squeezed Minho deliciously, he loved the face you made when you orgasmed, and adding that he was still inside you, he came a few seconds after you, letting all of him paint your interiors with his seed.

Judging by the lack of thrust from his counterpart, Minho realized that Chan had also found his release, removing his hand from your clit to wrap it around your waist until his orgasm was gone.

You lasted like that for a few minutes, being hold by Chan's powerful arms and eyes lazily open to look down at Mimho with a soft smile, you weren't sure if you were done for the night, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling tired.

Removing his hand from your hair, Chan freed himself of your hair and let you position yourself however you wanted above Minho, pulling out from you and taking off the used condom, standing up from the couch to throw it to the trash without saying anything, giving you and Minho a bit of privacy.

"Round two?" Minho asked you quietly, kissing your forehead and then pushing you back so he could get out of your sensitive pussy.

"Let me rest for a bit and then we can start again" you replied, picking Minho's shirt from the floor and cleaning his cum from your dripping pussy.

Chan came back and looked at the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you say of a round two, Channie?" you asked him playfully. He made a surprised face at your sudden question.

"Are you sure you can take more?" he said. You heard Mimho scoff next to you.

"I told you, she's my greedy kitten, always want more" he told him, "you're up for a next round, then? This time I'll let you her pussy, I have an idea of how we can shut her up, it's late and we don't want to wake the neighbors, right?" Minho said, turning his head to give you a playful smile.

"Sure, let's leave them sleep" you rolled your eyes. "Before we start again, can I propose that we move to the bedroom?" you looked at Minho who simply shrugged and nodded, so you turned your head to Chan to tell him where it was located, not that he needed to know because he had already found the bathroom on his own, but to let him go before you so you could breath and get mentally ready, excitement flowing on your skin.

Chan left, leaving you and Minho alone again. Your boyfriend politely gave you a hand so you could stand up from the couch, pulling your hand towards him so he could embrace you, kissing you harshly and as passionately as he wanted to do since he entered the house again, haply that he was finally able to do it.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N. You're a demon, you know that, right?" he whispered on your face, before kissing you again and leaving you out of breath.

"My wicked little angel, we should've done this sooner, you look so fucking hot when you're crying from pleasure, baby" and after saying that to you, he left in the direction of your room, leaving you behind to think.

You breathed in before going after them, stretching and cleaning the sweat off your forehead, product of the activity done before, and when you felt like you were ready, you went to your destination.

"Let's start the second round."

#stayverse #skz smut #skz fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #minho x reader #lee know x reader #chan x you #lee know x you #minho x you #chan smut #minho smut #bang chan smut #lee know smut #mine #original content

204 notes · View notes

chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

May I request a Ransom x Y/n fic where he goes to a pub after being taken out of the will and he see's y/n at a table crying because she's just been dumped

I love this idea!!

A/N: Just a heads up, i’m keeping the events of the movie in this where he goes back to the house to switch the medication and then have him go to the pub after that.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad or Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst, alludes to smut at first and then pure smutty filth. Fingering, oral (m and f receiving), protected sex, daddy kink, ass slapping and fluff overload. Heavy alcohol use, swearing and alludes to murder (the plot from the movie).

Word Count: 8,770

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @roooogers go check them out💜

Shoulder To Cry On

“Please, Anthony. Please. Don’t do this” your voice shaking with the fear of losing the one person who you assumed would always be around. Your brain trying to register everything he’s just said as tears drown your vision out causing everything to go blurry.

Weak body, silent screams and shaky hands. It’s real. But it doesn’t feel real. It feels like a dream. Like if someone were to pinch you now then you’d wake up and feel fine. But that’s far from your reality.

“You’re making a scene Y/N, everyone’s looking” he looks around him, watching on as everyone stares in your direction, enjoying the free show as they dine.

Is he serious?

“Me making a scene? You chose to do this here in front of everyone, knowing full well how i’d react” the anger coming out, the need to scream consuming you, so you do. You yell. You pick the food up in front of you and throw it at him. Bread, prawns, even your red wine.

“How could you do this to me? You fucking cheating scumbag” bottom lip trembling at the words leaving your mouth, the sick feeling working its way through your body and eventually settling in the back of your throat but you stop it.

You had plans for a lovely anniversary dinner tonight. Your boyfriend of 4 years Anthony. The man you’ve always seen yourself marrying and tonight, you thought was the night. That he’d finally get down on one knee and propose. But that was soon ripped away from you the moment the starters arrived.

He started his little speech about how he’s had the best time over the last 4 years with you, the memories you’ve made together.

Then came the moment that everyone dreads. The breakup speech.

He confessed to not feeling as happy as he once did with you and then he admitted to having a connection with some woman at work. His assistant. Jennifer.

And as much as he played it off like nothing happened, you’ve known him long enough now to see all of the tell tale signs. The way he rubs his ear lobe, the way he avoids your eyes and most importantly the way he stutters when he’s nervous.

His face has guilt and cheater written all over it. Your whole world feels like it’s crumbling around you and everything is a mess. Including your mascara.

You always had your suspicions about Jennifer but he was the perfect liar, a genius at concocting up excuses. The way he’d make your mind do a full 180 with your thoughts and feelings. Just like a magician tricking the audience. He pulled the wool right over your eyes and love enabled that, stopped you from asking all the questions that you should have thought to ask.

It’s like now, everything he ever said to you, all the happy memories and plans you made. They all seem so fake, like he never meant any of it. It’s gut wrenching. Sickening.

He’s a beautiful liar. He did it so effortlessly. Getting into bed next to you after no doubt being with her, touching her in the places he was only ever supposed to touch you.

But before you can even get to him, the restaurant staff make their way over, trying to remove you from the scene but you don’t even give them the chance.

“I’m going. Don’t fucking touch me” you hold your hands up, slipping your coat on and grabbing your purse.

“I hope one day you’ll experience how you’ve made me feel tonight” and that’s the last thing you ever said to him, picking your stuff up to leave.

All that anger and hurt eventually brought you here, the bar right round the corner from your house. You couldn’t bare the thought of even going home right away, let alone stepping foot in there. It’s too soon.

The house that’s jam packed with memories of the two of you. Photographs of you. The bed you’ve slept in every night with him for 2 years. Your skin itches.

That’s when you see someone sit down next to you at the bar but you don’t look. He still notices you though. Ogling you as he sips at his whiskey. The way your dress hugs your figure, the slit up the side, exposing your legs.

You hear his thick Boston accent ordering. Still refusing to turn your head. You really don’t want any bother tonight. You just need to drown him out. Drown out the way he smells, the way he touches you, the feel of his huge hands all over your skin.

Ransom doesn’t stop though, stealing glances here and there at you, trying to figure out the perfect chat up line to dish out. Then it comes to him, no chat up lines needed.

“What’s brought a beautiful girl like you here tonight then?”

The smirk that appears on his face comes out in his words, you can hear it but you’re really not in the mood so you order another drink, ignoring the stranger.

But the second you speak up, your voice giving your state away, causing Ransom’s head to shoot up, leaning closer to get a better look and that’s when he sees it. Your eyes that are filled with tears, the way you’re sniffles follow shortly after they fall.

“Wait, are you okay?” Genuine concern in his voice, not wanting to upset you even more by prodding too much.

“I’m fine” you spit, just wanting to be left alone to wallow. To over evaluate everything that’s gone down tonight. But that’s kind of hard to do with this man talking non stop.

“You don’t look fine”

“That’s because i don’t need nor want anyones pity” ouch.

“Who said i was pitying you?” he rolls his eyes, not even sure on what’s turned you so cold or should he say who. But he tried. Which isn’t usually in his nature.

See the events that lead Ransom to that little bar are slightly different to yours but nevertheless, he’s here with you so it doesn’t necessarily matter. The story should probably be told anyway though.

All was going so well in his world earlier today, he was happy as Larry, living off of his Grandfather, taking all he could get from him. He had everything. A bachelor pad that puts his friends one to shame, a beamer, scantily clad women at the click of his fingers and invitations to all the best parties in Boston. He was the most notorious playboy, everyone knows him.

The moment he stepped foot into his Grandfathers study, nothing was ever going to be same once he left. And that’s a fact.

Harlan broke the news about his will. How he changed it recently. Leaving his nurse Marta Cabrera with everything. Every. Last. Dime.

Meaning Ransom and his family will be pushed out of the mansion and Walt will be kicked to the curb when it came to Harlans publishing company, Blood Like Wine.

He argued with Harlan for what felt like forever, tried his best to plead his case and he even resulted to taking a threatening tone to his beloved Grandfather. Which of course, didn’t work. Leaving him angry, furious even. His blood was well and truly boiling. He’d had it. He couldn’t hear another word of that bullshit. So he stormed out. Bidding his great nana a swift goodbye in the form of resting his hand over her arm.

Once in his beamer, he screamed. Smacking the wheel with all of his might before stepping on it, pulling out the space and up the driveway. He had to get out of there and fast.

But halfway up the drive, he slams on the breaks when an idea begins to form, causing him to turn around. Parking away from the mansion first before creeping his way back in.

He climbs the wall at the side of it, up to the secret window that he discovered in his childhood. Once he’s in he finds Marta’s medical bag, opening it and switching his grandfathers meds, making sure to take out the one saving grace that could ruin his perfect plan.

With that secured in his pocket, the bag is zipped back up and placed back where he found it and he’s leaving the same way he came. Back down the side of the house but before he can make a quick run for it, he sees his great nana in the window. Staring at him, without blinking. He waits to see if she’ll speak but she never does, so he turns to leave, making it back to his beamer without a single person catching him. Great nana doesn’t count, there’s a very slim chance that she didn’t even know it was him. After all, she didn’t say a word.

All done now though, the plan is now in full swing. Soon Marta will take Harlan up to bed to give him his medicine. That’s when she’ll give him the overdose on morphine. Or the good stuff as they like to call it.

And eventually it’ll start to come together.

Marta will get arrested for Harlan’s murder, the money and all of the assets that were once hers will be stripped away and they shall all be returned to their rightful owners. His family and him of course. One thing that should be made abundantly clear about Ransom is that he’ll only ever help or get involved when there’s something in it for him. However, he’s not always evil, he has a soft side, it rarely comes out but make no mistake, it’s there alright.

With his evil plan in place, he heads back home but before he even gets there, he passes a quaint little bar at the side of the road. He could really do with a drink right now. Of course a taxi home will be required but with thousands about to grace his bank account, what’s 10 or more dollars on taxi fairs. Exactly, it’s pittance to him.

The second he enters, all eyes are on him. All but two. Your eyes. You’re sat at the bar, head in your hands and from what he can see, you’re dressed all fancy. Too fancy for this place that’s for sure. So he makes his way over, noticing the disgusted looks out of the corner of his eye. He’s never been here before, so of course he’s the newbie to all of the regulars.

That then leads to now.

You turn to face him, your sad eyes meeting his dreamy ones. The only way to describe them. You find yourself on the verge of getting lost before you break the gaze. Nodding towards the barman who slides another shot over to you to which you knock back like it’s nothing before continuing to sip Gin.

Just one look from you and he can see that something isn’t right.

“What’s got you crying all on your lonesome?”

“More like who” you respond, chuckling as more tears fall.

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off “i had the lovely pleasure of being dumped tonight” you muster up your best fake smile, as if somehow acting like everything is okay will suddenly make it all okay for real. But it’s no use, you still feel torn to pieces. Your heart is still on the floor, it’s been stomped on way too many times for you to count on two hands and you’re life is a complete shambles.

He doesn’t love you, Y/N. He doesn’t love you anymore but then again, did he ever?

“I’m sorry to hear that and for what it’s worth, the guys a jackass for doing that to you”

His comment has your brows furrowing in question. What does he mean by that? But you don’t even get a chance to ask, he can sense your confusion a mile away.

“I just meant that you’re gorgeous. He’s a fool” his nice side coming out to play, he’s never this nice to a woman unless he plans to sleep with her. But this time, it’s different. You’re different. He can never bring himself to pray on you like one of those other girls. Because he can see it, that you’re drained. You’ve had enough. Your ex made a fool of you enough already so who is he to add to that?

“Yeah right, he cheated so i doubt that very much” you snort, knocking back the rest of your drink.

At this point the bartender doesn’t even need you to ask for another, he’s probably realised by now that he should keep them coming.

“What an asshole”

Why does he care? He’s just a stranger. But still, you agree with him.

“Yup”

And just like that, a conversation blossoms.

Drinks flow as you explain the events of tonight and he doesn’t interrupt you. He just lets you speak, it’s almost like he can sense that you just need someone to listen, like all you need is to let out all of your emotions. Even if it is to a complete stranger.

Who by the way isn’t bad in the looks department.

Wait. No. You can’t think that.

Surely it’s fine to think it, just as long as you don’t act on it. Although, you are available now so there would be no harm.

“So let me get this straight. The man took you to dinner for your 4 year anniversary, let you get all dolled up, makeup, hair, nails. The works. Just to break it off with you and tell you he’s met someone else?” his brows raising and you nod, ashamed of how you’ve been treated because ultimately, you really did look like the idiot tonight.

You bought an expensive dress just for this very occasion and you did look the best you’ve ever looked. Radiant and glowing. Your makeup was on point, as was your hair. But now, you’ve got mascara everywhere and you’re way over the line of tipsy.

“I don’t get it. You’re well, you. I mean look at you and he left this for another woman? It makes no sense. There’s no way i’d ever give you up. No chance. No way” the way you feel your cheeks warm at his obvious compliment. You’re almost certain that he’s sweet talking you now. It took him a total of 2 hours. And he finally gave it a go. But you’re not complaining.

“LAST ORDERS” the bartender pulls you from your thoughts. That’s when you turn to look at him, still not knowing the perfect strangers name.

“Um, i guess i should get going” the very sentence makes that sick feeling come back but just like earlier, you push it away, stopping it before it comes spewing out on the bar. There would have been no time to run to the bathroom.

“I guess i should too” he smiles softly, shrugging his coat on and standing up.

That’s when the height difference is clear. He towers over you, making you feel small and dainty.

He gestures for you to head out first and as you glance back over your shoulder, you see him sliding some money to the bartender. No doubt, he paid for all of those drinks that you forgot to even pay for. Fuck.

These heels are way too high and your vision blurs a little as you stumble out the door but before you can even fall to the ground and face plant, he catches you, lifting you up and walking you over to what looks like a taxi.

“Come on you, let’s get you home. Where’d you live?”

Your mind goes blank as you stare at him before muttering “i don’t want to go home, i can’t go home. He’ll be there. Don’t make”

He cuts you off, pulling you closer to him and giving the cabbie his address instead. Wait. His place?

“I guess i should probably tell you my name being as you’re gonna be in my house soon huh?” he chuckles, spurring your own laughing fit.

“Do tell, mystery man”

“Ransom”

“I don’t have any money to pay you, not that i need to anyways, just tell me your name”

“No, no. My name is Ransom” his laughter fills your ears.

Strange name. Strange man.

“Surely not”

“Sure is. Well technically it’s my middle name. But i really can’t reveal anymore than that”

“Well i’m Y/N by the way and can i just say, you smell amazing” ah, the part where you make an utter show of yourself by leaning closer and closer, until your face is inches from his neck. That’s when you inhale really dramatically. Getting a good whiff of his manly scent. It’s intoxicating.

Luckily for you, he takes it all in good humour, probably because you’re drunk.

The rest of the ride back to his consists of you getting overly touchy, making random comments and with Ransom being the playboy that he is, it’s a real struggle for him not to fuck you here and now. Even in front of the cabbie. It wouldn’t be the worst place he’s fucked.

Yes you’re drunk but your hands are roaming to places they shouldn’t be and now he can feel a situation forming in the shape of a huge hard on.

Not that you notice, you’re too wrapped up in your own drunken state, blissfully unaware.

He can’t fuck you anyway. You’re too drunk. He’ll have to sober you up first.

The taxi comes to a halt and you look out of the windows, noticing a huge house, too posh for the likes of you but clearly fitting for a man like Ransom. He pays the cabbie before getting out.

You sit there clueless until you feel him scoop you up in his arms. He kicks the the door shut, walking the both of you to his house. He fiddles around in his pocket, holding you up with one arm so that he can open it and put you down on the couch.

“Is this your place?”

“It is indeed”

“It’s so big”

He lays you down, pointing his index finger in your face as he warns you “stay here, okay? Don’t move”

The child in you starts to emerge, the pout and puppy dog eyes coming out “yes sir”. You salute him and watch him strut away.

When he returns, his coat is off and he’s just in his white shirt, grey cardigan and his slacks.

“Here, drink this, it’ll help”

“Ew what is this?” your face screws up, disgusted at the taste “are you trying to poison me?”

“It’s just water, don’t be so dramatic. Drink it”

“What if i wanted another drink”

He just shakes his head disapprovingly. You’re really having none of it and he can’t fuck you like this. He makes it his mission to make sure all the women he’s with can actually remember what’s going on. Plus he needs your consent first.

“Drink. I won’t tell you again” his scary side showing just a tad but he soon shuts that off, realising how bossy and intimidating he sounds “wait, sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you”

Shouting and confrontation has always scared you. You’ve always had this natural instinct to cower and hide.

But this time, all you can really do is back up, to the other end of the couch.

“You’re just really drunk and it’s not doing you any good. Especially with everything that you’ve gone through tonight” wow. He’s even surprised himself with that one.

It’s not that he doesn’t care about you or your feelings because he most certainly does. He’s liked being there for you tonight, even if you did start out as two strangers at a bar. It distracted him from his own drama filled life. But your freaky side was showing on the taxi ride over and it awakened something inside of him.

Not in the way that some may think. Sure he’d love nothing more than to fuck you senseless, make you forget everything even if it’s just for the night but most importantly. He felt something more than just lust when you were touching him.

And as strange as that is to admit, it felt amazing. Like fucking you wouldn’t just be for the sake of it. You wouldn’t just be another notch on his bed post. It’s almost like his heart knows something that his brain doesn’t know yet.

Eventually he gets you to slowly sip at the water until half of it is gone and then the whole thing. You’re still tipsy but a little better than you were before the water.

“Did you want any food? I could order in? It might help?”

“I mean i did sort of throw my prawn starter at my ex”

He can’t contain his laughter, leaning back on the couch and throwing a hand over his left boob. You really are hilarious to him. He’s so amused by you and he doesn’t ever want this night to end. Even if it doesn’t end in sex, which it will. He’d be satisfied.

Something that Ransom Drysdale would never ever think or say.

“So food then?”

You nod before shaking your head aggressively.

“Actually no. No food. I already feel like i’m going to hurl. Food will just make that worse”

He seconds that, taking your empty glass from your hands and disappearing to refill it before returning it to you.

“You best drink up then if you aren’t planning to eat”

So you do as he says, stopping after a couple of sips due to your eyes noticing more and more about him that you never noticed before. Like his slicked back hair, his broad shoulders and oh shit. Is that a boner?

It’s gotta be right.

Your still tipsy self hands him the water for him to place on the coffee table for you and that’s when you do the unexpected. You make your way over to him, sitting way too close. Your bare arms rubbing against the soft and thin material of his cardigan.

“You alright?”

The way he acts like he cares, which, he does. It’s soothing, the gentle tone in his voice. The way he’s treating you like you’re glass and he doesn’t want to break you. And he’d be right, because you are delicate. Not your body of course but your heart, your soul, your mind. Not that there’s much left of your heart after Anthony broke it.

“I’m okay, i’ll be better after i get this dress off though” the flirty side of you starts to make an appearance. You look down, twiddling your thumbs as he clears his throat, clearly didn’t expect a comment like that.

“I guess i could fetch some of my clothes for you to wear?” his suggestion, whilst very cute and gentleman like, isn’t what you were after. And he’s far from a gentleman. You can just tell.

“I don’t think you understood” you turn around, back facing him “i need some help. Please” eyelashes batting as you quickly look over your shoulder at him and seconds later, you feel his hand move your hair to the side.

The zipper glides down with ease causing the straps to fall down your arms and soon enough. You stand up, letting it fall into a puddle on the floor. Leaving you in nothing but your matching blue laced, bra and panties set. Along with your heels of course. It’s the set that you bought for tonight too. For the sex you never ended up getting.

For the first time ever, Ransom is rendering on speechless, his mouth waters at the most incredible sight in front of him and he can tell from that look in your eyes that you want him.

Something he never expected to happen so fast. That’s when you sit back down next to him, resting your hand on his thigh.

“You know i should really thank you for tonight”

“Honestly, it was nothing” his words are aimed at you whilst his eyes are fixated on your body, not even trying to hide it from you but you just lap it up. You could use some attention right now. After all, your confidence was knocked with your ex boyfriend’s revelation.

“No, really. It was nice. You’ve been amazing. So let me thank you” but before your lips can touch his, he pulls back. Looking at you as his hand caresses your cheek, staring into your eyes like he’s looking into your soul and you feel close to naked in more ways than one.

That’s when his lips crash to yours in an intense and very heated kiss. As his hands roam around your half naked figure, you position them at the back of your bra, signalling to him that you want him to remove it. Which of course, he does.

He pulls away for a couple of seconds, taking a moment to look at your breasts. And the way he cups them with his large hands before using his thumb and index fingers to pinch at your now hard nipples, has you moaning into the kiss. Leaving your lips parted just enough for his tongue to slip in, adding to the build up.

The battle for dominance begins and it goes back and forth between you both, your hunger is very much profound. As is Ransom’s. The moans he’s eliciting are almost porn star like and he’s barely even touched you. But that’s the beauty of it, it feels so good that you’re keening for more. Which earns a low and raspy chuckle.

It doesn’t take long before you’re straddling him, legs either side with your hands cupping his face. His hands rested on your waist, squeezing slightly, almost like he’s making sure you don’t go anywhere. And after the day he’s had. He needs someone, whether he admits it or not. He does.

But that’s all he’s ever wanted. Is someone. Someone to talk to, someone who will listen and be there. He can’t complain about how that’s not the case though, he’s brought it all on himself. The loneliness, it’s killing him but he chooses to push everyone away.

His family though, that’s all them. They made him this way. A scheming, money grabbing playboy. It doesn’t mean the facade doesn’t drop once he’s all alone though.

However, it never drops around others. So why is it dropping around you?

“God, i needed this” he pants, in between his kisses that he’s peppering from your lips to your jawline and then your neck. It takes him next to no time at all to find the one spot that drives you insane and when he notices the way your whole body shivers. He smirks, sucking and biting it along with the equal amount of wet kisses.

“Me too. Fuck, right there” you mewl, back arching in his hands as they splay across it before moving down to settle on your panties. His finger traces the top of them, following them as it dips into your ass before giving your ass cheeks a hard smack.

God if this is how incredible you feel just kissing and touching the man then sex must be a real first place prize.

Just the way he’s handling your body alone is enough to send you over that sweet cliff but you stop it, holding back by pushing his face away from your skin, interrupting the hickey he was clearly in the middle of making.

“I wasn’t done with you, come back here”

You stop him again “i need you” you whisper frantically, both of your chests rising and falling. Your heart is beating like crazy.

“Patience baby” he winks, standing up with you in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist and your arms holding onto his broad shoulders for support as he carries you up the stairs and into what looks like his room.

Before you even have time to pause for so much as a second, he throws you to the bed.

“I wanna take my sweet little time with you” he starts, the bed dips as he gets on it, hovering above you “gonna worship every inch of your body” he lowers himself so that he can kiss your lips, then your jawline, then your neck and then eventually, the valley between your breasts.

“Gonna show you what your worth baby, prove to you that you’re better than that scum who didn’t treat you the way you deserve” also something that’s unlike Ransom. But if there’s one thing he’s a pro at, it’s pleasuring a woman. He knows what the fuck he’s doing. He can talk the talk and walk the walk. Which he’s about to prove to you right now.

He lowers himself down to your sex, the way the pool is growing more and more is obvious, he can smell it and even see it, the way the light blue material has darkened around your tight hole.

You spread your legs open wider, your way of inviting him in. Of course he accepts. He starts off by pressing a thumb down onto your clit, moving it around in circles and causing you to jolt. You’ve been craving someone, anyone at this point to touch you there. Maybe that should have been a sign that things were doomed with you and Anthony since he’s not touched you in months. Maybe that was a sign you should have seen, a red flag that you were too blind to notice.

“Look at you, so flustered already. God i can’t wait to fuck you”

“Please” you beg, pathetically.

“Nuh uh baby, i told you i wanna take my time, starting with this pretty little pussy” he hooks his fingers into the hem, using that to pull them down and off of your legs before throwing them behind him, not caring where they land.

“My oh my, it is a pretty little pussy, isn’t it. God you’re soaked baby, all this for me?”

“All for you” your confirmation leads him to lick his lips before pressing a couple of open mouthed kisses to the inside of your thighs.

“That man is an idiot. But i guess his loss is my gain. Ain’t that right baby” he winks as his kisses get closer and closer to your arousal covered hole.

“Ransom, plea- OH FUCK” his mouth latches onto your clit, sucking as his tongue flicks across it rapidly. A sensation you’ve never felt before that makes your breathing hitch, your hands run through his locks, no doubt messing them up, not that he’s showing any signs of caring.

All that Ransom cares about right now is making you feel good, making you cum.

“Like this baby? Like my mouth all over you?” his eyes meet yours as he uses his fingers to spread you open so that he can really get a good eyeful “you’re dripping” he murmurs, almost like he’s talking to himself and not to you. He slowly slides one finger in before resuming his attention on your folds and your bundle of nerves.

“More, i need more. I need you” as flattered as he is by your desperation and need to feel every inch of his thick cock, he has to prepare you. Most of the women he’s been with have never had someone as big as him before, so he always likes to get them ready and you are no exception.

“Patience baby, you’ll have me. All in good time”

His raspy voice has you melting alone and the way he’s working you over, slipping a second digit in, should be criminal. How can a man like this be single and alone? It makes no sense. Plus it doesn’t hurt that he’s loaded too.

It’s a mystery that you’ll be sure to get to the bottom of once you’re done here.

A third finger is added and he’s curling them all more and more each time he bottoms out, your back arches again, your grip on his hair gets tighter. But he doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stop. Not even for a second. He’s a man on a mission right now.

The way he’s sucking on your clit, the way his fingers are filling you up and the way he’s slurping at you like a drink is something you’ll never and could never compare to anything you’ve ever experienced. He’s a literal god and he has your walls fluttering around him, your clit pulsating in his mouth.

“Feel the way your squeezing me baby, you gonna cum? Huh? Gonna cum all over my fingers” the pure filth that he’s spewing, is what has you coming face to face with stars. And Ransom can feel the way your hips bucks up into his face, the way your hands keep him locked there until they are pushing him away due to how sensitive you are. He doesn’t budge though.

He just laps at your sex again and again before finally withdrawing his fingers, noticing your slick coating them and dripping down his hand.

“Jesus, looks like somebody made a mess”

You can’t help the way your cheeks warm in embarrassment which he soon puts to bed by stuffing his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Every last drop.

That’s when he takes it upon himself to drink directly from you, sticking his tongue into the honey pot, taking everything you have to offer “god so fucking sweet. I can’t get enough baby, tastes so fucking good”

A flirtatious giggle escapes, your hands covering your mouth but he rips them away.

“Don’t ever feel embarrassed or shy around me”

“Are you gonna fuck me now?” your teeth bite at your bottom lip as you shiver with the anticipation of what’s to come from him. His silence is deadly but exciting.

“Indeed i am”

He can most likely hear your heart race as he pulls away, getting off of the bed to undress himself. Starting with his cardigan and shirt. Once it’s off, his abs are revealed, his biceps are huge. You have the biggest urge to kiss him all over that chiseled body, sculpted by some kind of god. He’s gotta be a fantasy.

“But first baby” he trails off, pulling his slacks down and stepping out of them “you’re gonna suck my cock, get it nice and hard with that mouth of yours before i ram it into that tight little cunt” he pulls his boxers down, stepping out of them too and kicking both to the side before stalking closer.

You gulp, your eyes widen... he’s huge. Really huge. Thick too. Does he even need your mouth?

“What’s the matter baby? Is someone intimidated?”

“No” your denial, whilst very cute, isn’t believable. But he’s still going to let you have a go at wrapping that mouth around it.

You scoot off of the bed and fall to your knees, feeling even more dainty than you did before when he was towering over you like a giant.

“Don’t be shy baby, get to work”

Your hand wraps around him with your thumb swiping the pre cum that’s oozed out of the slit and you immediately pop your thumb into your mouth. You just want a small taste and as soon as the salty-sweet droplet hits your tongue. You all of a sudden crave more of it.

“Nice?” he asks, cocking a brow up “delicious” you smile, adding to his already blown up ego.

You gradually welcome him into your mouth, opening wider as each inch passes your lips until he’s almost bottomed out. That’s when you open wider and his tip hits the back of your throat making you gag, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“You look so good taking all of me in that mouth, bet you’ll look even better when you’re taking me in that cunt”

Is he trying to kill you with his dirty talk? Most likely.

He’s a different man to the guys you normally go for. Maybe that’s where you’ve gone wrong. You’ve let yourself settle for mediocre sex, mediocre relationships and maybe that’s why you’ve never been truly happy, like happy to your very core. You’ve never fully believed that you deserve the world. Never known your worth.

He grips the sides of your head, stilling your movements so his can begin and he doesn’t go easy. His thrusts have you making an even bigger mess, more saliva dripping down from your face to the floor. He’s loving every second of it though. But soon enough, just as quick as he started, he stops. Pulling out and looking at you, content with what he sees.

“God you’re fucking beautiful like this, on your knees for me like a good girl. Get on the bed baby” you do as you’re told, sprawling out on the bed and waiting for him to join which of course he does. As soon as he gets a condom out, taking it from the wrapper and sliding it down his shaft. Size XL. You spy before he tosses the wrapper into the bin.

“You ready?” he asks, resting his tip between your legs and lowering his body so that he can slide his arms underneath your shoulder blades. His face inches from yours.

“Please, i need you now” and with that he slides home, not stopping to let you adjust to every inch as it comes. You can feel your pussy stretching, the way it stings slightly but it also feels incredible. It’s bliss.

“S’tight baby and s’warm. Feel that pussy stretching around my cock”

Your eyes roll back as your head lolls to the side, presenting your neck to him and giving him the opportunity to finish what he started earlier, which of course he does.

And the second is lips are on your skin, his pace picks up and the pain turns to pleasure. You feel him so deep inside of you that you just know if he were to pull out that you’d feel emptier than ever.

“God, yes. Ransom. Fuck” your legs wrap tight around his waist, forcing him in even deeper if that’s possible at all but still you do it. Wanting nothing more than to feel as much of him as physically possible.

So you wrap your arms around him, your fingers tracing shapes on his back, causing him to shiver and growl loudly “fucking take this cock baby, take it like a good girl” he starts, adjusting his pace from fast and rough to slow and hard. Ramming in each time he speaks “such a good girl” thrust “loving every inch of this cock huh?” thrust “god this pussy” thrust “is gonna have me cumming way too quick” thrust.

“I can’t have that now can i?” that’s when he shocks you, flipping you over so that you’re on top “ride me baby, show daddy what you got” the nickname he uses for himself has your walls spasming, catching his attention.

“Oh you like that huh? Such a dirty girl for daddy, aren’t you?”

“Yes daddy” despite never using that in the bedroom before, it feels weirdly satisfying, having him refer to himself as daddy and seeing how he gets when you call him that too, the way his mouth hangs open, the way his cock twitches.

It’s something you’ll never forget.

You start off by collapsing onto his chest, your breasts pushed up against his pecs as you slowly lift your ass up before sinking back down onto him, earning a hiss.

“Yeah just like that, make daddy proud baby” so you do, you go again. And again. And again. Getting quicker each time until you’re a pro at it. You then sit up, continuing to bounce up and down, grinding as he bottoms out, with his initial instructions of course. He guides you through it and before he even tries to help a second time, he takes his hands away, noticing how you’re doing it all by yourself.

Grinding like the whore he’s turned you into. You can’t help the confidence beaming off of you as you go to work, slamming yourself down on his cock eagerly. You need that sweet release now more than ever, as does he.

“That’s it baby, make yourself cum”

The best pout and puppy dog eyes make a return “fuck me. Please daddy” and who is he to say no to you?

“You’re gonna be the death of me i swear” he flips you over again, keeping himself seated deep inside of you as his pace turns animalistic.

“Mhmm, give it to me, i’m gonna cum” you plead, not that he’d ever deny you a mind blowing orgasm in the first place as it’s clear you’ve never had one like the one he’s about to give you.

“Bet he could never fuck like this huh? Make you moan like a fucking porn star for him. Gonna have your legs shaking baby, hold on to me”

So you do.

Your grip tightens around his neck.

With every hit to your g-spot, he nudges you closer until yet again, stars cloud your vision and your toes curl. Your back arches up so that you’re chest to chest and you cum with a shaky and satisfied cry. He doesn’t stop though, plowing into you to chase his own release. Your legs are most definitely shaking.

Your walls continue to clamp down on him, spurring it on.

“God i’m gonna cum”

“Cum for me daddy” is all he needed to hear to go crazy and that’s when he spasms himself. His thick seed filling the condom and his thrusts get slower and harder. Riding both of your highs out.

Your breathing is heavy, your heart beat is out of control but you feel complete.

You’ve never experienced anything like that before.

He pulls out, disposing of the condom and rushing into the en suit for a second before returning with a wash cloth. He uses it to clean you up, taking his time and making sure to be extra careful with you. You try to prop yourself up on your elbow but struggle due to him fully ruining your body.

“Just relax baby, let me take care of everything” he presses a couple of kisses to your thighs and then your stomach, pausing to throw the wash cloth into the hamper before making his way back up to your lips.

He lays down next to you, pulling you into his side and draping an arm around your body so you lay your head down on his chest.

“So” you both say at the same time, causing a laughing fit to erupt.

“That was certainly an experience”

“I told you that i was gonna worship you and i think you can agree i delivered”

“You did more than just deliver Ransom”

“Please do tell me more” he laughs, stroking your hair.

“How on earth are you single?” the question that’s been on your mind since you and him got talking at the bar. He’s acted in a way that not many men do these days, it’s hard to believe no ladies are lining up to be with him.

Plus his dick and head game is A-1.

“I’m single more by choice than anything else”

“How come?” you feel bad for asking but surely if you were over stepping the line then he’d say.

“I mean, my family life hasn’t always been the best. I’ve learnt to not trust anyone that i’m related to and growing up with parents that just chucked money at stuff to solve it. If i was upset then it was always take this money, go shopping. Or if i needed my mother for girl advice it always lead to my dad telling me i should never trust women which is rich seeing as he cheats on my mom all the time”

It’s quite sad actually, a man that seems to have it all together, is clearly broken inside.

“I’m sorry, that’s awful. I’m guessing that’s why you’re single then, why you choose to keep away from dating”

“Yup. I prefer to just fuck with no strings attached. It’s easier, I don’t have to do anything other than make them cum. I’m not filled with pressure to be the perfect boyfriend. I can just relax but sometimes it gets lonely”

“How’d you mean? Sorry if i’m prying” you rest your head on your hands as you look up at him, his finger tracing shapes on your back now.

“It’s fine honestly, don’t sweat it. I guess the best way to explain it is that i can have all this money from my grandfather, all the cars, girls and friends in the world but i can’t trust any of them enough to let them see me when i’m laying in bed at night. The times when i just want someone to hold, someone to hold me, tell them about my day, hear about theirs. Someone to wake up next to and fall asleep next to. But whenever a woman gets even remotely close to me in a way that is too deep. I back off, i give her the cold shoulder and just ghost. I get freaked out because to me, there’s nothing scarier than someone seeing all of me, the good, the bad and the ugly”

It takes you just a second to realise, he’s just bared his soul to you. After saying that he backs off whenever a woman gets too close. After saying that he struggles to trust. That he’s scared of being himself around someone. He’s just been himself around you. And you have no doubt that he feels comfortable enough with you to do that so that’s gotta count for something, surely.

“I get it. It’s hard. Loving someone is easy but allowing them to love you, that’s the scary part. Because ultimately when you let someone in enough to let them love you whole heartedly it opens you up to the chance of heartbreak i mean, look at my life”

You both laugh a little “It’s not even just regular heartbreak, it’s the fear of being cheated on, having my trust shattered. Having someone use me for my family’s money”

“Well, for what it’s worth. I think you need to just bite the bullet, let that guard down. How do you ever expect to find what you want and need if you’re not willing to open yourself up to it. It’s a risk that is worth it sometimes, that eventually, all the heartaches will lead to something greater or someone. Someone that will accept every flaw you have and be there regardless of how messy things can get”

Ransom is just so relaxed right now, he feels at peace, at ease with you. The way you’re listening. Your head rested on his chest, letting him hold you and giving him proper responses, it shows you’re paying attention, you want to be there for him. He’s completely taken back by you. How could anyone want to cheat and leave you, it’ll always remain a mystery to him.

You’re like this ray of light, that came into his life tonight out of the blue. Someone who’s hurting too but somehow you amazing him with the sunshine you provide. You’re everything he’s always wanted in a girlfriend but he’s spent years pushing girls just like you to the side due to fear. Only difference is, he’s able to be himself with you. With them, he could never.

His body lets go as he turns on his side, turning you with him so that he’s cuddling you from behind.

“You’re right. I’ll get there eventually. I just, i need time”

Your silent for a while, taking his words in before you speak.

“Seems like you don’t need any time at all”

That’s when you hear quiet snores from behind you, he’s dozing. And after a couple of minutes, you decide that it’s probably time you see yourself out, you never wanna over stay your welcome and right now with him asleep, you already have.

But before you can even get off the bed, you need to remove his hand from around your frame. Which isn’t going to be easy considering you have to try not to wake him up.

You succeed, finally managing to scoot over to the edge of the bed. But that’s when you hear his tired groans, followed by a hand to your wrist.

“Don’t leave me” his voice is laced with worry

“What?”

“Everyone leaves me” his words break your heart all over again, you’ve been left before and you’re not about to do this to him. Besides, it’s not like you wanted to, you just didn’t think he was the type to want you here all night.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to be here when you woke up”

“Well, you thought wrong. Come back and cuddle, don’t leave like everyone else does”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you to crawl back into his arms. He presses a couple of kisses to your shoulder as you get under the covers with him. Then the kisses move to your cheek and eventually, your lips.

“I’m here to stay then i guess”

“Good”

You feel warm and happy somehow in his arms, like everything has gone away, even if it’s just temporarily.

“Goodnight”

“Goodnight Ransom. sweet dreams” something you’ve always said throughout your whole life. It’s a nice thing to say and it has him smiling into one last kiss before he closes his eyes for the night.

---------------------------

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

Owe You One - Part 2

Title: Owe You One - Happy Birthday Mary Winchester

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 5,592

Warnings: Anxiety, Mentions of Sex, Meeting the Parents, ANGST, Pinch of Fluff, Self loathing, Mentions of Death, Hints at Depression.

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Square Filled: Fake Dating ( @spndeanbingo)

A/N: I hope y’all enjoy this part! I’d love to hear your thoughts on it! Feedback is always appreciated! Happy Reading!

You pulled your favourite black dress out from the back of your closet. The dress you had only had the chance to wear once for a date that didn’t even happen. This was happening. Dean was going to be knocking at your door in less than an hour. He was going to be dressed in a classy black suit that was sure to make him a million times more handsome than he already was.

You dragged your slipper covered feet back into the steamy bathroom. The mirror was starting to clear as you removed the lime green towel off the top of your head, letting your wet hair fall down to your exposed shoulders. You had your blow dryer plugged in already, and your brush ready to get started. You were going to make your hair look a little more natural. You wanted it to be straight, but not hair straightener straight. If you blow dried it just right, you would get a nice natural wave to it that would look good with your dress.

You worked the brush through your hair first, wanting to make sure all the knots were out before you began to dry it. You were actually looking forward to going to Dean’s mom’s birthday tonight. You were looking forward to meeting her and seeing the rest of Dean’s family. You were looking forward to getting out for the night and looking fancy for once. Not to mention, Dean was your date which was a big bonus.

You dried the last part of your hair, making sure it looked perfect before putting your supplies away. For once, your hair actually looked good. There was a good amount of volume, and softness to it. It smelled amazing due to your special shampoo. You hoped that Dean would appreciate it.

You stepped back into your bedroom, dropping your towel so you could finally put your dress on. You had your comfortable bra that would match your dress. You carefully pulled it on in front of the mirror in your bedroom. The dress had lacy long sleeves, and showed just the right amount of cleavage to be appropriate, but not prude. It went down to your mid thigh and suited you really well. It was probably why it was one of your favourites.

All that was left to do was your makeup. You wanted to keep it simple, especially since you were meeting his parents at this party and you wanted them to like you. You were sticking with a nice coat of mascara on your top lashes and a bit of concealer to cover the blemishes. To finish off, you put a bit of lip chap on to make your lips look good, and still be able to kiss Dean later on when the time came.

You glanced in your closet to try and find some shoes to go with your dress. You didn’t want to wear something that you couldn’t walk in. You had a nice pair of heels that were almost ankle boots. They weren’t too high and they would match your dress. You figured it was a good go to for the evening.

Three knocks at your door pulled you from your thoughts. You forgot about your shoes and skipped your way to your apartment door. You unlocked the lock and pulled it open, revealing Dean in his handsome suit that made him look like a different person.

“Damn,” you smirked.

“Damn, yourself sweetheart,” he commented, stepping into your apartment. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I just have to put shoes on and grab my purse.”

“Sure,” he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. You quietly made your way back into your room to grab the last two things you needed. Dean looked handsome as hell, and he smelled even better. There was a part of you that couldn’t believe that you actually had sex with the man. Dean knew you thought he was good looking and it was almost the same the other way around. He had told you when he saw you naked that you were beautiful. Then again, you were naked and he was going to have sex with you. Men say anything to have sex. Dean was different though. He was your best friend.

You slipped on your cute heels, making sure they were comfortable before reaching for your purse. A cross the body black purse with a gold chain strap. Something that went well with your entire outfit. You glanced in the mirror one last time, making sure everything was good before you left.

“Alright,” you breathed out, shutting your bedroom door as soon as you walked out.

“Ready to go, girlfriend?” He asked you with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Why yes I am, boyfriend,” you giggled. “You look so handsome, De.”

“Thanks sweetheart,” he winked, holding his hand out for you to take. You give him a warm smile, placing your smaller hand in his before walking out the door.

You locked your door behind you, shoving your keys in your purse before heading to Dean’s door. He double checked, making sure he locked it. You walked to the stairs of the apartment complex and you instantly regretted the heels. No matter how good they looked. Flats next time. Always flats.

You spotted Dean’s 67 Chevy Impala as soon as you walked out the door. He parked her in spot twenty seven, which was assigned to him by the building owner. If you had a vehicle, you would’ve had the spot right next to his. Only you couldn’t afford one at the moment. You didn't mind taking the bus. Everywhere you needed to go was within a decent distance.

Dean reached for the door, opening it for you to get in first, like a true gentleman. You offered him a smile as you stepped in his beloved baby. He slipped in next to you, sticking the keys in the ignition, her purr filling your ears instantly. His car was beautiful and partially because he took such great care of her.

“Alright fake boyfriend, what is off limits tonight?” you asked him, turning down the radio a little.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, turning to look at you for a split second.

“In terms of PDA and such,” you cleared up.

“Ah,” he nodded. “Maybe don’t grab my ass in front of my parents.”

“Shut up! As if I would grab your ass in a public place,” you giggled.

“I saw the way you were checking me out,” he winked. “In all seriousness, handholding and a few kisses here and there will be enough to convince them we’re together. Our friendship is enough to make anyone question us. This will just make it look more real. I’m not too worried, You’re the kind of girl parents love.”

“What makes you say that?” you furrowed your brows.

“You just are,’ he shrugged. You swallowed hard, not exactly knowing what his words meant. You definitely weren’t the kind of girl that guys brought home to meet the parents. You never had been that girl and you were probably never going to be.

“Dean,” you breathed out.

“You- you’re approachable, you know? You don’t come across as a bitch and you’re not. You don’t dress to show off, but you also don’t hide either. You’re classy. You’re just the kind of girl who clicks with everyone,” he tried to explain. He was a little awkward about it, as if he was trying not to cross a line.

“Thank you?” you let out a laugh. “I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

“Alright,” he nodded with a smile.

Dean pulled into a parking lot of what looked like a hotel. It was about a twenty minute drive from your apartment, so you were unsure of the area for the most part. Dean turned into one of the nearest available parking spots, cutting the engine. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying not to think about how scary it was going to be to meet Dean’s parents.

You got out of the car at the same time, shutting the door in sync before heading towards the back. Dean reached his hand out, slipping it into yours, intertwining your fingers. You smiled at the warmth of his hand in yours, feeling a little bit of the nerves dissipate.

People dressed the same as you and Dean headed in the entrance of the hotel. You were thankful you felt like you fit in. It was one less thing for you to worry about. How many people were attending this thing, you thought to yourself. It made you wonder just how popular his mom was, and how well she was going to like you.

“You nervous?” he asked you, squeezing your hand as you stepped foot in the tall building.

“A little,” you breathed out with a smile. You looked straight forward, seeing a sign that pointed to the left, indicating that the party was that way. You took a deep breath, getting ready to see just how big this party really was.

You stepped foot in the room, the music filling your ears instantly. It was a winter wonderland theme. Everything was white and blue. Ice sculptures were everywhere and of all different shapes and sizes. It was truly beautiful to look at. From up close and from far away. The room was filled with people and not a single sad face in the room. Your eyes traced over all the curtains, and the decorations, taking it all in.

“This is astounding,” you mentioned to Dean.

“All of my mom’s parties are this big,” he told you. “There she is.” He pointed over to the tall table with a huge snowflake sculpture. You swore your heart fell down to your stomach. You recognized her anywhere. It was hard not to. You took a deep breath, turning away from her direction in case she was to see you.

“You - you never told me that your mom is Mary Campbell,” you swallowed hard, trying to compose yourself the best you could.

“Mary Winchester now, but yeah, she was Mary Campbell at one point,” he furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“I- I can’t be here,” you stuttered, shaking your head, taking in a deep breath. You really couldn’t be here. It was hard not to recognize her. You had seen so many pictures of her when you were growing up. You had no idea what exactly went down, but all you knew was that Mary hated your mom with a passion.

“What? Why?” he questioned, reaching his hand up to your arm, keeping you in place.

“Your mom’s going to hate me,” you breathed out.

“Wait up,” his lips formed a line, “why is my mom going to hate you?”

“Because she hated my mom,” you revealed. “Your mom and my mom were best friends growing up. My mom had so many pictures of your mom and I’ve seen them. But something happened and they never spoke again. Your mom hated my mom. I should have put two and two together. John Winchester and Mary Campbell. I should’ve questioned it when I realized your last name is Winchester. I don’t know how I didn’t.”

“Sweetheart, you’re not your mom,” he reminded you. “Whatever happened between them has nothing to do with what happens between us.”

You felt your chest growing tighter as you let everything set in. There was no way in hell you should be here. You couldn’t stand to be here, and you knew that she was going to recognize you the same way. You looked like your mother. You didn’t want to cause any trouble for Dean or her for that matter. Why didn’t you put two and two together. Your stomach filled with anxiety and your palms began to sweat. What is she saw you and kicked you out? What is she made a big scene about you being there and tossed you out in the worst way. You’d never be able to show your face in public ever again.

“Hey Dean,” his younger brother Sam greeted. He had a beautiful blonde on his hip which made you smile a little. “Y/N, nice to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you nodded.

“You remember my fiancee Jessica,” he motioned to her before pecking her cheek.

“Of course,” you smiled. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too,” she beamed. “Your dress is gorgeous. It suits you very well.”

“Thank you,” you smiled nervously.

“So is Y/N your date?” Sam teased.

“She’s actually playing my girlfriend so mom and dad will back off,” Dean informed him.

“Smart move,” he let out a chuckle. “Not like they’ve ever met any of your girlfriends anyways.”

“Exactly,” he shrugged.

“Mom’s motioning for me to tell you to head over to her,” Sam raised his eyebrows.

“Shit,” he muttered. “You ready Y/N?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Can’t I stay with Sammy?”

“I wish,” he frowned.

Dean slipped his arm around your waist, turning you in the direction his mom was. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You were terrified of this part, more so now than you were before you got here. There was no way she was going to make a scene, you thought to yourself. If anything, it would be private. You just hoped that maybe she saw it the same way Dean did. You weren’t your mom. You were nothing like your mom.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, hoping that if you did, you’d gain the slightest bit of confidence. You felt like you were going to throw up. It was a terrible feeling. At least you knew now to never agree to meet someone’s parents. This ruined it all for you and it wasn’t even your fault. So much for you being the kind of girl that parents loved.

“Happy birthday Mom,” Dean greeted her, pulling her in for a hug. You mustered up the best smile that you could, hoping you could still make a good impression on her.

“Thanks kiddo,” she smiled. “And who might this be?”

“Mom, this is Y/N, my girlfriend,” he introduced you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, tugging you into him.

“Hi, Mrs Winchester. It’s really nice to meet you,” you said to her, holding your hand out for her to shake. She hesitantly took it, giving you a weak handshake as Dean’s dad stepped next to her with a glass in his hand.

“Please, call me Mary,” she beamed, holding her arms out before pulling you in for a hug. You felt the slightest bit of relief, but there was still that pit in your stomach that was screaming at you to get out of here as quickly as possible. You didn’t want her to hate you like she did your mother. You weren’t your mom, you repeated in your head. “This is John, my husband and Dean’s dad.”

“It is really nice to meet both of you,” you nodded with a smile, taking a step back from them.

“How long have the two of you been together?” she asked, her tone a little skeptical.

“A few months now,” Dean stated before you could come up with a lie. “She’s been my neighbor for the last year or so. After a few months of borrowing the odd thing, we became friends. Then friends became something more.” Dean leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You didn’t even realize that you leaned into him, allowing his simple gesture to comfort you. You almost forgot it was a fake relationship for a second. He was just trying to sell it. But you couldn’t deny his touch put you the slightest bit more at ease.

“Dean is an amazing man,” you beamed. “You both did a wonderful job raising him. He’s such a gentleman.”

“Thank you,” she nodded with a smile. “Would you boys mind grabbing both of us a drink? Give us girls a chance to talk.”

“Sure,” Dean nodded. “What would you like sweetheart?”

“Uh, just a water please,” you breathed out nervously. Dean pressed another kiss to the top of your head before stepping away with his dad. The drinks were on the other side of the room and there was a bit of a line. It meant you were going to be alone with Mary for longer than you were comfortable with. You could feel yourself growing more and more on edge with every ticking second that passed.

“So you and Dean, huh?” she commented, clearly pausing to see what you had to say before she laid into you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, daring to look at her. “Look, if this is the if you hurt him-”

“It’s something like that,” she declared, cutting you off. “You look a lot like your mom.” Fuck, she knew you alright. Not that it was a shock with how her tone changed. She was clearly comparing you to your mom and there was the slightest bit of venom that you picked up on.

“I- I get that a lot,” you nodded, letting out a breath.

“Then you must know exactly who I am and what that means,” she tisked. “You’ve got a lot of nerve coming here tonight.”

“I- I had no idea when I came here tonight, I swear,” you almost mouthed. She was extremely intimidating. More so than you thought she was going to be. “I apologize for being here. I don’t want to cause any trouble, I promise.”

“Don’t you dare even think of hurting my son. Your family has a history of poking around and slipping their way into things they shouldn’t be involved in,” she warned you. “I don’t need some girl coming into my son’s life, fucking it up and ditching him when she’s done and bored. Which is exactly what you’re going to do. You’re not good enough for him and you never will be good enough for the Winchester family. Enjoy your night ‘cause you won’t be allowed within ten feet of any of us after it.”

“I’d better go then,” you mumbled, trying to will the tears away until you were a good distance away from her.

Your hands were sweating and you swore your heart was going to leap out of your chest and soar to the other side of the room. Your legs couldn’t move fast enough. Why did you have to wear heels? Why not flats? You desperately wanted to cry. She was harsh and judged you based on your mother and the relationship she had with her. She wasn’t going to let you explain. Nothing. You were forever going to be known based on who you were related to. It wasn’t fair in the slightest. You should have left the second you found out his mom was Mary Campbell.

You managed to sneak out of the room, heading straight for the hotel doors to go outside. Surely the bus came this way. You couldn’t be here when you were hated by the most important person in the room. You never should have agreed to it. You never should have told him you’d do it. It was a mistake and you were going to pay for it for the rest of your life.

The cool Kansas air filled your lungs. For the first time, you felt like you were able to breath. You were on the verge of a panic attack, which wasn’t good. You were in a strange place and you were on edge. A recipe for disaster. From now on, you were going to stay away from Dean and the entire Winchester family. Like she said, you were never going to be good enough for their family. She was going to make damn sure that you weren’t welcome, or wanted. You didn’t want Dean to be disowned either. It was his family and you weren’t going to make him lose them just so he could be friends with you. It wasn’t your place and clearly you weren’t worth the trouble.

“Hey, there you are,” Dean called out, making his way over to you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“This was a mistake,” you whispered, attempting to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“My mom say something to you?” he asked you.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m really sorry I couldn’t be a better girlfriend to you,” you told him, not daring to meet his eye. “I think I should go.”

“Regardless of what my mom said, you are still my date, Y/N. I want you here,” he stated.

“I’m not welcome here, Dean. That’s the problem. I’m sorry,” you mouthed. “I’m really sorry.”

“I’m not sorry for bringing you here tonight,” he declared. “Out of everyone, there is no one I’d rather endure this with than you. You and I get along well, end of story. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t be here with me. But I want you to be, as my best friend.”

“De, your mom-”

“My mom can handle one night. I don’t care if it’s her birthday or not. She can handle me happy with you for one night,” he said with a soft smile. “C’mon, let me treat you the way you deserve to be treated for one night.”

“O-okay,” you sniffed before clearing your throat.

“Are- are you crying?” he asked with concern evident in his voice. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know,” you shrugged. Dean stepped closer to you, reaching under your chin, urging you to look up. He gave you a weak smile. His thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the tear that managed to fall.

“You aren’t your mom, sweetheart. You can’t be compared to anyone else. Remember that,” he assured you. He held his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it. You were nervous as hell to head back in that room. Especially since she already made sure you felt unwelcome. You didn’t want her to get people to remove you. “C’mon, we came here to have some fun.”

He squeezed your hand as you walked back into the hotel. Dean had enough confidence for both of you. If you just stuck by his side, maybe everything would be okay. He could protect you from his mom and then you’d never have to see her again. You prayed he didn’t have to leave your side.

He handed you over your water, and you took a sip instantly. You washed down the lump, finally feeling a bit of relief. You were sure your eyes were a little red, not that it would be noticeable with the lighting. You could feel his mom’s eyes on you. She was on the other side of the room and you could still feel them. You knew not to look. God, you’d be lucky if she let Dean talk to you again.

“Care to dance with me?” he offered.

“You dance?” you asked in shock.

“No, not at all. But you look like you could use something to make you smile. Besides, we still gotta look like a couple,” he winked.

“Fine, one dance,” you rolled your eyes playfully. He took your hand as soon as you placed your cup in the garbage, leading you out to the fairly large dancefloor where most of the party was.

He slipped his hand around your waist, resting it on the small of your back before the other took your hand. You placed yours on his shoulder, looking up at him with a smile playing on your lips.

“You look really nice tonight,” he smirked. “But I gotta say, that dress would look nicer on your bedroom floor.”

“You’re something else, Winchester,” you let out a laugh.

“Yeah, I know. It’s part of my charm,” he chuckled. “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

“Surprised you even asked,” you half smiled.

“I’m a gentleman,” he nodded, leaning down. His lips brushed over yours in a sweet, tender kiss before pulling away. You watched the smile creep up on his lips before he kissed you once more. His grip tightened on your waist and before you knew it, he was dipping you down. A laugh escaped passed your lips as you gripped his shoulder a little more, trying not to fall over.

“You are something else,” you shook your head.

“Told you I was going to make you smile,” he cocked his eyebrow playfully. “I don’t even know who this song is by.”

“I don’t either,” you told him. “But I kind of like it.”

“I’ll see if I can find it for you,” he winked.

“Dean, mind if I cut in,” his dad’s voice filled your ears. John stood a few feet away from you, shoving his hands in his black dress pants. “Your mom wants to speak to you. I’ll keep your girlfriend company.”

“Alright,” he nodded, swallowing hard.

“C’mon girly, let’s see what you’ve got,” he grinned, almost making you feel comfortable. That was much different than what you got from his wife. Then again, Dean was still close by. He hesitantly left you with his dad, heading over to his mom on the other side of the room.

“You don’t have to dance with me, Mr Winchester. I can wait outside,” you offered.

“Nah kiddo, you aren’t doing that,” he said kindly, holding his hands out for you to make the first move. You carefully placed yours in his, allowing him to start dancing.

“I should,” you breathed out. “I’ve already overstepped and I don’t want to make anything worse than I have.”

“Y/N, it’s okay,” he stated. “If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t be dancing with you.”

“It’s not,” you shook your head. “But thank you for lying.”

“You like Dean, huh?” he asked with a smile. Changing the subject, you thought to yourself. This was getting awkward really fast. Something was definitely not okay, and he was trying to make the best of the situation. You should have left when you had the chance to.

“Yeah, I do,” you nodded. “He’s one of the good ones.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” he assured you.

“You know that’s not true,” you scoffed. “I know I’m not welcome here, and I’m never going to be. I also know it’s not my fault as to why, but the thing is; it doesn’t matter. I’m still an association and that’s never going to go away. Regardless of what I say or what I do. There will always be that thought in the back of everyone’s mind because of the history between my mom and your family,” you paused, swallowing hard once more. You came to a quick realization. “I apologize for coming tonight and ruining everything, because I’m sure I have in someway or another. Please know you won’t have to worry about me ever again.” You pulled yourself away from him.

“What does that mean exactly?” he furrowed his brows.

“It means I’m not worth it, and I’m not good enough. You and your wife already know it, and it's only a matter of time before Dean realizes it too. Just like everyone else does,” you pointed out. “Thank you for the dance but I have overstayed and I should get going.”

“Kid, wait,” he called out. “Do you know exactly what went down all those years ago?”

“No. I don’t,” you said sternly.

“Ask your mom about it,” he suggested.

“I would, but she died three months ago,” you declared. “Like I said, thank you for the dance.”

“Hey, wait up,” Dean called out right before you could walk away. “Where are you going?”

“I’d like to go home, please,” you asked him.

“Did you say something to her?” he growled at his dad.

“No,” he shook his head. “Kid, I’m sorry about your mom.”

“I’m sorry I ever stepped foot in here,” you smiled, trying to will the tears to go away. “I won’t bother you or your family ever again.”

You turned on your heel, making your way off the dancefloor and to the exit. Dean caught up to you quickly, slipping his hand into yours as you walked out. This time, he didn’t argue with you. It was pretty obvious that you weren’t enjoying yourself and his family was doing a pretty good job of embedding Mary’s words into your brain.

You weren’t ever going to be good enough for the Winchester family.

Dean lead you to the impala, opening the door up for you to get in, just like he did at the start of the night. You knew as soon as he shut the door that this was the last time you were going to be in his beloved impala. You knew there was a damn good chance you and Dean weren’t going to see each other for a while.

He peeled out of the parking lot and headed back on the same roads you travelled to get here. The darkness had filled the sky in the same way it had filled you inside. You never in a million years, expected tonight to go so horribly wrong. The first time meeting someone’s parents and they already despised you with everything they had. You never should have agreed to this. His family noticed more because of who you were.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your mom?” he questioned, clearing his throat. “We were friends three months ago. We’ve been friends for the better part of the last year. Why didn’t you tell me she passed away?”

“Because I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want the ‘I’m so sorry for your loss’ ‘she was a good person’ shit you get when someone dies. I don’t want people to feel bad. I hated her. I have hated her for the majority of my life and even now that she’s gone, she’s still ruining my life. ‘Sides, what could you have done, Dean?”

“Hugged you? Been there for you?” he pointed out. His tone was hard and a little angry. Not that you really blamed him.

“Yeah, ‘cause that’s just what you need on top of everything,” you breathed out, turning to look out the window.

“Why are you pushing me away?” he inquired. “Tell me that one.”

“Because it’s easier than you walking out of my life,” you shrugged, not bothering to look at him. You didn’t want him to see the tears forming for what felt like the millionth time tonight. “I’m sure your mom told you to break up with me.”

“She did,” he confirmed. “She told me that our families have history and history has a way of repeating itself. I don’t know what it means.”

“You and me both,” you mouthed to yourself.

“I’m really sorry for tonight, Y/N. I know this isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“It’s okay,” you breathed out. “At least you can tell her we broke up when you see her next.”

“I never said I was breaking up with you. I simply told her that you’re a good person. The mistakes that were made in the past shouldn’t dictate the future for someone it had nothing to do with. You aren’t your mother,” he shared.

“But I look like her and your mom is going to be reminded of that every time she sees me. It’s for the best,” you stated. “Good thing we aren’t actually dating.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, almost inaudibly.

You arrived back at the apartment. Dean backed the impala into his designated parking spot before cutting the engine. Tension filled the small space. You knew this wasn’t good. You also knew that most of the tension was coming from you. You were the one that wasn’t welcome. His family didn’t want you anywhere near them or their son for that matter. You’d be stupid to even attempt at proving them wrong.

Dean walked you to your apartment door, which you were expecting. He usually did. You saw the soft smile playing on his lips. He felt guilty for bringing you tonight. Even though neither of you knew this was coming. You knew this was the last time you were going to see him for a while. You could feel it in your gut. He wasn’t going to stop by to see you, or pretend something was broken just to bug you for a few hours. He wasn’t going to call or text. Your friendship had been hit by the great big Mary Campbell-Winchester wrecking ball.

“I’m sorry for everything, again,” you said sadly.

“I’m sorry too,” he frowned. “I’m really glad I slept with you though. It made it a little more worth the trouble.”

“Not by much,” you chuckled dryly. “I’ll see you, Winchester.”

“See you tomorrow,” he winked.

You slipped your key in the lock, quickly unlocking the door before stepping in your apartment. You gave Dean a small wave, shutting the door behind you. There was no way he was seeing you tomorrow, or any day after that. How the hell could you ever face him again, knowing that his mom wanted him to end things with you. She hated your mom that much and you because of your mom.

You weren’t going to ruin Dean’s life anymore than you already had. He could do way better than having you as a best friend. You were a lost cause anyways.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

part 3 will be out on Tuesday

Did you like it? Were you expecting that? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! I love reading your thoughts and your response keeps me going!

Dean Babes

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lovingrosewho · 3 years

Text

The Executioner’s Song (rewrite, sort of)

NOW, ONTO THE GOOD STUFF, and that means, the new stuff :-) I’ve been rewatching all Supernatural seasons and just had to write this. Disclaimer: English isn’t my first language, feel free to give any feedback/suggestions! <3 Ily all, thanks for reading <3

ONE SHOT

Pairing: Crowley x Reader, sort of Castiel x Reader but in a friendly way

Rating: T. Angst, fluff

Word count: 3.1k+

Summary: the title pretty much explains it buuut, basically, Reader gets upset about Dean betraying Crowley

Warnings: SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN’T WATCHED SEASON 10, signs of depression, dialogues taken from the series at the beginning, a few curse words I guess?

When Dean handles the First Blade over to Castiel instead of Crowley, your eyes open wide in shock.

“You lied to me” Crowley says, you can sense the hurt from the betrayal in his voice.

“It’s not the first time today” Dean makes a pause with the demon’s expectant eyes “Cain’s list? You weren’t on it” Dean says and with this, Crowley vanishes.

You begin to feel dizzy, nauseous even, a void made of uncertainty taunts your heart and your stomach, you try to hide it behind being worried about Dean, which is partly true and you let that show as you hug him, relieved he’s alive, in one piece and, mostly, or so it seems, sane. Castiel looks over at you and you just know, he knows.

The four of you get to the bunker. Not a word from anyone. At the very arrival, you excuse yourself pretending a headache along the tiredness of the whole trip, so you practically run to your room.

The minute you close the door you dial Crowley’s cellphone, your hands shaking as you do so.

Straight to voice mail. You dial again.

“Damn it Crowley, pick up the fucking phone” you pray lowly.

Voice mail again. You’ve got to be kidding. You dial a third time.

“What is it that you want?” he finally answers, voice tone a bit raised, taking into account it’s you and he never raises his voice with you, either way, you can’t but let a breath out of relief at hearing him.

“Can you come over here? Please, I’m in my room” you’re not finished telling him and he hangs up.

“Damn it Crowley!” you exclaim again while you dial his number a fourth time, the second ring hasn’t sound when he appears standing in front of you.

“What?!” he almost screams, locking the door of your room with his demon powers. He’s not afraid about Sam and Dean coming in, all guns waving and pointing at him, no, he fears for you, aware that if the Winchesters hear you, not only will they scold you, but could also stop trusting you, hell, they could even lock you up thinking it was his doing the fact that you were friends with him.

“I didn’t know!” you confess instantly, body trembling and feeling like you’re going to puke any minute. You know how Crowley feels about treason, you know damn well and you just can’t let him think you had anything to do with it. He takes a few steps back and looks at you up and down.

“Why should I believe you, (Y/N)? And how? How am I supposed to believe you? Tell me” he raises his voice once again, he doesn’t like doing that with you but this time he just can’t help himself “If you four had only told me the truth I would have gladly agreed and helped you!”

“I know, I know!” you whimper, knowing that is a big-ass declaration from Crowley, and that he wouldn’t normally admit to it, he’s just doing it because it’s you, and he’s hurt. You try to maintain your posture and not let your voice crack weeping “I swear, I had nothing to do with it, if I had known I’d have tried to convince Dean to tell you the truth! I swear!”

Crowley is about to vanish, tired of listening to you, tired of the lies, of the doubts; first his minions being influenced by Abaddon, then his mother, next the Winchesters and now... he never thought he would doubt of his most beloved hunter. A single tear escapes your eyes and Crowley stops dry from disappearing, the temptation to remove that single tear being more powerful than him, the King of Hell.

You’ve known Crowley since he was a blood junkie, locked up in the Winchester’s dungeon. Your friendship started as a naïve excuse to pass the time, at first with just a couple of hostile phrases a day when you found him, and obviously discovered he was a demon, not just any demon but the King of Hell himself, and soon after it turned into something else. When you broke your arm in a fight and had to spend a couple of months skipping on hunts, the boredom increased your time in the dungeon with Crowley while the boys were gone, and you began to admit you liked the guy, perhaps a little too much. Months kept passing and the habit of sneaking into Crowley’s room while the boys were out, stayed, sometimes you would even take the cuffs and chains off of him and let him walk and stretch inside the devils trap, he would always behave and let you put the chains back on. When he managed to free himself from the brothers, he would visit you in your room when no one else in the bunker could hear you; you would talk about anything, his life, your life, Hell, current or past hunts, funny anecdotes... you were not ready to lose that. Not now, not ever.

Crowley stares deep into your eyes as he holds your face in both his hands and wipes the tear off your cheek.

“Look at me... and tell me if I’m lying” you say slowly. He sighs.

“I’m sorry, Pet. I can’t” and with this final sentence, he leaves the room, disappearing and leaving you alone.

You swallow hard, your steps conducting you backwards until you hit the end of the bed and are able to sit. At last, you break down in tears, sobs and whines flooding you from the inside out when you hear a knock at the door.

“(Y/N)?” it’s Castiel “(Y/N) are you okay?”

You don’t respond, and Cas is forced to unlock the door and come in. He stares in shock at you but immediately locks the door back so Sam and Dean won’t come up asking questions. He sits next to you and doubtfully touches your shoulder for you to look at him, which you don’t do.

“He won’t talk to me ever again Castiel” you say in between sobs.

“Who won’t?” he asks confused, but having a mild idea of who you might be referring to.

“Crowley! He thinks I knew about Dean handing over the blade to you and not him...” you keep whimpering “He won’t believe me, whatever we had it’s over”.

Cas nods understandingly and reaches out to hug you, your face covering his chest with tears.

“(Y/N) maybe it’s for the best... Crowley is...” he begins but you interrupt him, separating from his grip.

“No you don’t understand. He’s changed. I know it seems impossible but he has. And he truly believed he could be friends with us, I know it, I know him. Castiel I...” your voice breaks.

“(Y/N)” he intertwines his hand with yours “I know”.

He holds you again, and you cry and cry for hours in that same position with him until you fall asleep. Castiel lifts you up and leaves you laying across your bed, he takes your shoes off and puts a few blankets on top of you.

When he comes down everything is quiet, the Winchesters have surely gone to sleep, or at least get some rest after the day they’ve had.

The following morning you don’t come out of your room, not for breakfast, dinner, research, anything.

“What’s up with (Y/N)?” Deans asks, looking towards your room.

“She...” Castiel tries to explain “Wasn’t feeling very well. I’ll go check on her”.

The brothers look at each other and nod at Castiel’s offer.

“Hey, could you please bring her something to eat?” Sam asks politely.

“Yes. Of course” Cas answers.

When he enters your room, he notices you haven’t changed your clothes, and you’re in the same position he left you last night.

“(Y/N)?” he says, leaving a tray of food on your desk “How are you feeling?”

“Not hungry” you say without facing him, smelling the hot breakfast he just left a couple of feet away from you.

“Well... you need to eat. You’re human” he reminds you.

“So? Not hungry” you repeat. He sits beside you and slightly caresses your hair.

“Okay then, we’ll be downstairs if you need us... or just, you know, pray for me” he tells you before getting up and prepare to leave your room until you jump all of a sudden.

“Wait! Castiel!” you say, startling him.

“What? Whats is it?”

“Please... don’t tell Dean what this is about... he’ll just... he wouldn’t understand” you beg him. Cas nods his head in agreement.

“Of course”.

When Cas comes down, both Winchesters are looking at him, raising his hands as asking what is going on.

“It’s... like I said, she’s not feeling very well” he tells them when he’s at the table with both.

“Well what does she have?” Deans asks demandingly.

“I... she wouldn’t say” Cas lies, which gains him a weird look from Dean.

“Ok that’s it, I’m going up” declares Dean and Cas gets up sharply.

“Dean! No! She said she didn’t wanna be bothered” Castiel exclaims worried.

The weird look on Dean remains until he rolls his eyes, says “fine” and heads for the kitchen instead.

Sam has stayed silent the whole time until Dean leaves.

“Cas” Sams calls him in a low voice “Is this about Crowley?”

Castiel sighs and nods.

“Guess she’ll just have to pull through with this one” Sam follows Castiel’s sigh.

You don’t go out of your room for two days in a row, sadness consuming you. The third day you decide you’ve had enough and come downstairs to help the boys with research, no one says a word but Dean.

“Hiya there kiddo, had us worried sick but Cas said you didn’t wanna be bothered, everything okay?” Dean tells you, making you smile softly.

“Yeah, yeah. Just you know, some headaches, it felt like I was hungover the whole day, guess that tension from the last adventure really took a hit on me” you lie marvelously.

“Yeah. But you’re back, we are back, and that’s what matters” Dean tells you and you smile nodding, containing your tears again, you know you are not fully back.

It’s been a couple of weeks and Crowley won’t answer any of your calls, hence you stop calling him.

You miss him, you miss his voice and spending time with him. The boys notice even if you’re back up enlisting on hunts and helping them, something’s definitely off with you. You don’t eat enough, you practically don’t sleep, you barely smile or laugh anymore, and you seem distracted half of the time. It hurts Castiel more than anyone seeing you like this, so he decides to break his vow and talk to Dean.

“You have to call Crowley” he tells Dean when he and Sam are alone in the bunker whilst you are in your room “You have to tell him it was your idea to give the blade to me, you can even mention Sam but not (Y/N)”.

“And why would I do that?” Dean asks confused and a bit angry.

“Look around you Dean” Sam tells him “Something’s off with (Y/N) since that day, it’s not even 9pm and she’s already locked in her room, she didn’t even eat when we got back”.

Dean looks at both of them and grunts.

“How are you so sure this is about Crowley?”

“Because she told me” Castiel confesses “Now, call him”.

Dean looks impassive at Cas and Sam but takes his phone out and dials Crowley’s number.

First call goes to voice mail.

“Well that’s it, I’m not calling that dickbag again” he declares and Cas catches his arm, grabbing and stopping him from putting away his cellphone.

“Try again” Castiel threatens. Dean rolls his eyes but agrees.

“Squirrel, long time no see” Crowley finally answers “How are you?”

“Listen you son of a bitch” Dean begins “I don’t know what you did or told (Y/N) but...”

“Oh I didn’t tell, much less do, anything to her”.

It hasn’t been easier for Crowley. He’s got the advantage he doesn’t eat nor sleep, but distraction has definitely been present. Every time his mother or his minions call him he’s just thinking of you, about answering your calls, about calling back. He misses you, your voice, your laugh.

“Well she hasn’t been okay and the only thing I know is it has to do with you” Dean tells him “She hasn’t anything to do with the fact that I didn’t handle you the blade, that’s on me, Sam and perhaps Cas, but not her. She knew nothing, you hear me? Nothing. ‘Cause see here’s the thing, we didn’t tell her ‘cause I knew you two got along and if I had told her she would have put up a fight and claim it was unfair. Now she won’t sleep, nor eat enough, she’s distracted on hunts and that almost got her killed a couple of times already, so you either fix it or I’ll come down there looking to kill you Crowley I swear”.

With this last phrase he hangs up and throws his phone away, without expecting Crowley to answer, this is non-negotiable.

The King of Hell’s stomach suddenly fills with hope and excitement, it’s not the fact that Dean called him about what happened, no, it’s just that he did not know you cared that much for him, he’d figured after a while you would stop calling and move on.

You wake up in the middle of the night and... what time is it exactly? Phone says 3am. Great. You sit slowly, yawning, still sleepy, and turn on your bedside lamp.

Suddenly you see Crowley standing in front of you and you almost scream whilst reaching for your gun.

“Crowley! For the love of... what the actual hell are you doing in my room?!” you hiss at him, exasperated, tossing the gun aside.

“Well hello to you too, love” he exclaims sarcastically.

“Answer the question, what are you doing here?” you ask again, tired and afraid this is just some sick joke.

“I was bored. Thought I’d pay you a visit” he says walking, or more like snooping, around your room.

“And you needed to do that at 3 in the morning? When I’m sleeping? And when you haven’t returned my calls in weeks?” you reclaim but he stays silent, still going through some of the stuff placed at your desk.

You exhale sharply.

“Whatever, I need to pee, do not touch anything, you understand me?”

“Yes, yes. Understood, Pet. I’ll be right here”.

You get up from your bed and walk barefoot towards the restroom. When you’re sit in the toilet, your mind begins wondering what truly brings the King of Hell to your room. Perhaps he’s aware that you miss him. Perhaps he misses you too. Or maybe it’s a dream. Maybe he is telling the truth and was just bored of all the meetings.

You get back to your room to find Crowley laying across your bed.

“Everything alright, Pet? Was beginning to wonder what took you so long” he tells you. Deep, dark stare into your eyes.

“Yeah” you say, approaching the edge of the bed, staring back at him “I do everything slower at this time. Now, scoot over”.

He slides a few inches to the side of the bed, letting you lay down next to him. You turn a few degrees facing him, while Crowley keeps looking at the ceiling, but paying attention to every and each one of your moves, that is until you place your arm across his chest and your hand begins mindlessly caressing the thin fabric from his suite shirt, while you breathe in his scent, the sulphur, the ash, the expensive scotch and fresh cologne.

“(Y/N)?” he begins carefully, voice low “What are you doing?“

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Yes, beg your pardon, why are you doing it?” Crowley asks but cautiously places an arm around you and starts stroking your hair.

“I... I’ve missed you” you confess as you bury your face in his shoulder “Does... does this bother you?”

Your question puts a soft smile in his mouth while he turns to look at your half-hidden face.

“Not in the slightest, kitten” his declaration is greeted with a relieved and dreamy sigh from you “I’ve missed you too, you know?”

“You have?” you ask incredulously “I thought you didn’t care...”

“Of course I care. But here I thought you were the one who didn’t care...” that’s when your engines start rotating and it hits you.

“Did you speak to Castiel?” you interrogate him, fully facing him now.

“Castiel? No. I spoke to Dean though” he says guessing what happened. Knowing you, you wouldn’t have let Dean figure out what you were so upset about, Cas must’ve told him “He wanted some intel on someone, don’t know, don’t care, and it slipped the fact that you weren’t feeling so well”.

“What else did he say?” you ask him, going back to your task of running your fingers across his chest. In this moment, you couldn’t care less how he found out, he’s here, with you.

He inhales deeply.

“That you had nothing to do with the idea of lying to me...” he feels your body tense underneath him “Which, by the way, I figured a couple of hours after our little discussion”.

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” anger beginning to creep on you, body still stiff.

“Because I thought you didn’t care that much” he admits “I thought it was for the best. To be honest, I was unsure about what to even tell you after the tantrum I threw that day”.

He places a hand under your chin for you to look him in the eyes.

“I am sorry, (Y/N)” the King of Hell apologizes and you relax, hugging him a bit tighter.

“I love you” he’s taken aback by your declaration but after a few seconds he smiles gently.

“I love you too, Pet” with this sentence he brings your chin up and lowers his lips sweetly onto yours. He tastes like honey, citrus and scotch, and all you ever thought he’d taste like.

The kiss is so tender and so slow that you’re able to wander your hand towards his hair and then his cheek.

When the two of you break the kiss, you spend an exaggerated amount of time looking at each other, assimilating the reciprocated love. After a while you start talking about everything and nothing, just like old times, cuddling until you fall asleep, and Crowley, the King of Hell, has the honor to be the one to hold you in his arms.

MASTERLIST

#supernatural #crowley x reader #crowley #crowley supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #castiel x reader

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thewaytoaclonesheart · 3 years

Text

Flames of Love and Lust ✨

Rated: E - explicit

Warnings: Fluff, a lot of FLUFF, smut, unprotected (for f**** sake, wrap it up!)

Summary: “What I mean to ask is. Well, would you stay tonight? Share the night with me?”

And so flames of lust, desire and love had ignited deep within both hearts and soul within them both. Along with it, something primal burned within those flames. A need stronger than they had known before.

- Cody and Obi-wan finally share the night together, though not as innocently as that might imply.

_______________________________________________

Their first kiss had happened so suddenly, feelings is love as if a burning flame between them, slowly growing stronger.

I’d had taken them the remainder of the night talking, getting an idea of where their feelings lay, what they meant. To ensure that neither of them felt ‘unbalanced’, as Obi-wan would describe it. Neither of them could afford their feelings rising to more importance than the mission, or the vows they had made. Cody to his brothers, his vode, and Obi-wan to himself and those he held closest. Anakin had once mentioned how they needed to survive this war with their souls intact, and so, Obi-wan had found a missing piece of his soul in Cody, and vowed to protect and care for it with outmost care.

He understood reality, understood that in war there was no certainties of survival, that one of them might parish, leaving the others souls shattered and in darkness, left as nothing more than dying embers that once burned brighter than the suns of Tatooine.

It had been another long mission, another long mission, that had lead them to this point. A meeting in the General's quarters on the ship, Cody drinking caf and Obi-wan his beloved tea, discussing the mission report, had evolved.

A sweet and genuine smile had found its way upon Obi-wan face, as Cody had accidentally found his hand, trying to return a datapad to the desk. It had taken only that smile, a brief touch of warmed hands, to ever so steadily ignite the embers, enabling them to grown into lust and desire filled flames.

The touch of a hand, had simply added the fuel, enabling a fire to start. The spark to ignite it?

“Cody, could you.. would you...” the hesitancy had surprised Cody. Obi-wan was usually confident in his words, but seemed as nervous as a shiny before his first real battle at the current moment.

“Cyare?” Cody didn’t need to say more than his name for a reaction. So it intrigued him greatly to see Obi-wan sigh, only to gather his confidence to ask him again.

“What I mean to ask is. Well, would you stay tonight? Share the night with me?”

“Elek, Cyare.” A breathy sigh, a voice touched by desire, had been the only answer Cody had been capable of. Yes, he wanted to stay the night. Wanted to spend his night embracing his love, and clearly more. But how much would Obi-wan want? Was this a request for simple sleep in the embrace of a loved one, or would this be more primal in nature?

The answer came, when Cody, taking Obi-wan’s hand, guided him to the generals cot off to the side. For upon sitting down, Obi-wan had thrown of his robe and outer tunic, along with his obi and belt. His intentions made clear by pulling Cody back to him.

Their lips met in a kiss, and only moments later, their tongues met and danced the same dance they had done so many times before.

Cody’s hands quickly found their way into Obi-was’s hair and tugged, eliciting a moan from the other man.

“You.. are.. wearing too... much.. armor!” Obi-wan had spoken, words broken by moans, reacting to the hands tugging and massaging his hair. He wanted more, he wanted to see Cody in all his naked glory.. wanted the man so much it felt as if he was burning. It was no surprise to him, that Cody’s reaction had been to scoff and chuckle at his eagerness. He had done so before, on the occasions where kisses had evolved into make-out sessions on a cot, in a tent, or wherever else they had found privacy and time enough to enjoy it. This time, Obi-wan wanted more. So much more.

When Cody just kept kissing him, he took matters into his own hands. Opening seals on armor, making a straight line for the other mans codpiece. When his hand found its target, Cody had reacted. A moan, followed by intensive determination to shed his armor as fast as humanly possible.

They kissed in earnest until the chestpiece had to come off, and with it, Cody had stood in nothing but his bodyglove, his blacks, with a large tent bulging out his pants, clearly standing to attention. A glance downwards on himself, made it clear for Obi-wan, that both men wanted this, wanted to finally explore everything together.

Cody guided Obi-wan to lay down on the cot, only to quickly remove the mans boots and pants, leaving him in nothing but his underwear, clearly straining due to his sexual desire. Cody found, that he suddenly wanted to taste all of him, of his Cyare, and never stop doing so.

Cody had never been shy about his body. After all, when millions looked the same, or nearly the same, it didn’t truly matter. But for Obi-wan? He wanted to make a show. And so, his body glove came off slowly, revealing more and more skin, flushed and showing signs of his interest. But as he reached to free his legs, he simply pulled them off quickly, only to pull down his own underwear with it, his cock standing at full attention, ready to serve. Cody knew, that he and his brothers were well-endowed.

He himself was, by no means, a virgin, but he hadn’t expected the look on Obi-wan’a face. A look of pure lust and carnal desire, a look that screamed for more, in a way Cody had never seen before. He liked it, a lot.

He liked taking Obi-wan’s underwear off even more. Especially when the redheads cock had sprung free from its containment, only to twitch when smacking down on Obi-wan’s stomach.

It took mere seconds to have Obi-wan on his back, and Cody atop him on the cot. Still kissing, tongues dancing and small moans on their breaths, as their lengths met and bumped, driving both men further into the flames of desire and lust quickly growing between them.

“Cody, please!” Exclaimed Obi-wan, wanting, needing, more attention. It had been all it took, as Cody’s mouth starting mapping out all the crevices and pale lines on Obi-wans throat, slowly moving further down. He came to pause when he reached the right nipple, only to smirk, and then lick around the nipple, kissing and sucking it, followed by his left hand kneading and pinching the left.

By the force his Cyare was beautiful!

‘Cyare, mesh’la’ had been the only words Cody found himself capable of in the moment.

And so Cody continued his path, down to the other mans hips and thighs, kissing every scar, every freckle, mole, any mark he came across, only to once again pause. And as he looked into Obi-wan’s eyes, he took his cock in hand, slowly licking a stripe from base to head, eliciting a loud and interested moan from beneath him. It had taken him no longer than a second to put the head in his mouth, sucking while licking all he could reach.

Cody wasn’t sure who was moaning more, himself from the exquisite taste of the cock in his mouth, or the owner of the cock in question. But it was clear, that his own moms affected the other man, as the vibrations from his throat turned on Obi-wan even more.

Cody stopped when a hand suddenly tugged on his short cropped hair, only to pull him off and up into a searing kiss. And suddenly his world flipped, as he found himself beneath his Cyare, being kissed like never before, moaning brokenly, as a warm hand found his cock, stroking it faster and faster.

Then it stopped, and Cody only had seconds to wonder why, when Obi-wan sat on Cody’s thighs, taking both of their cocks in hand, and stroking them together, using the wetness left from Cody’s mouth on his own cock to smooth the glide. Moans filled the air around them, as they became harder and worked towards their shared goal. Or at least, that’s what Cody thought. Until Obi-wan stretched out his hand, seeming to concentrate for a second, only for a bottle of lube to fly into his hand.

“I want you Cody, I want all of you” and damm if those words hadn’t made a downright needy sound coming from Cody.

“Cyare, mesh’la, have you done this before?” Asked Cody, hoping that his lover had indeed done this before.

“Yes, a long time ago...” Obi-wan had answered hesitantly, afraid that Cody would refuse or stop altogether. He needn’t had worried.

“Lie down on your front, cyare, it’ll make it easier.” Cody had never loved this man more. To be so open, so trusting of him, made everything so much more intense, as if it wasn’t already the most important sexual encounter of his life.

Cody opened the bottle of lube, squirting out a large amount on his fingers, letting some drip down on the other mans ass. The other mans very, very nice ass. He suddenly found a want to kiss and nipple on the two glorious globes in front of him.

Later. That would be later. Right now, he just wanted to get his cock into the heat of the other man, as soon as he was ready for it.

Cody carefully probed an touched him, lubing him up before slowly pressing a finger inside of the other man. Twin moans made their way into the room. Obi-wan from the pleasure of Cody’s finger inside of him, even the stretch was turning him on ridiculously fast. Cody’s own moan came from the feeling of the tight, smooth and warm heat he now felt surrounding his finger. Damm, he really wanted to get his cock in there, now.

Another finger joined the first, upon Obi-wan pushing back against it, only to begin begging for more.

“Cody! More!... Please!”

Never had Cody heard better words. And so, three fingers in, his cock harder than ever before, he barely had any patience left, when Obi-wan had finally told him to do it. Sweetly begged for Cody’s cock inside of him, wanting it inside, wanted them to join in the most primal of ways. Cody had never been good at ignoring orders.

Moans, loud and clear, was let into the room, as Cody slowly pushed the head of his cock into Obi-wants ass. He kept pushing, pulling almost completely out, only to push in again and again, working his large cock further in with every thrust. And as he bottomed out, he leant over the back of his Cyare, kissing his neck, his back and anywhere he could reach, waiting for the consent to continue.

Consent came quickly.

Flames burning brighter than ever, as their moans escalated.

“Cody, I.. harder, harder, please!” And Cody thrust harder, rocking the cot with them now. Sweat rolling down his skin, breaths broken by constant moans. And as he kept thrusting, Obi-wan’s arms gave out, forcing him to push his ass up, and the pleasure from the new position driving him quickly towards a massive orgasm.

“Cyare.. I’m... close...” moaned Cody, feeling the tightening inside of him, his cock becoming harder than ever before, his balls growing taught.

“Where..?” A firm hand found it’s way beneath Obi-wan, grasping his cock and moving up and down, giving him even more pleasure than was already cursing through him.

“Inside Cody! Come inside me!” He was so close, so damm close, just a little more..!

Ultimately, it had been Obi-wan’s words that had pushed Cody over the edge. He thrust into his cyare one last time, bottoming out completely, and then came, filling the other ma up. That had been what had sent Obi-wan over the edge, and as bright lights exploded behind his eyes, lighting his entire body on fire, he came across the hand on his cock, his seed shooting both down in the cot, but also hitting his own chest and stomach.

Cody barely managed to pull out, before falling of to the side, trying to catch his breath. Obi-wan had collapsed onto his stomach, and just as Cody, seemed to be trying to catch a breath.

It had been Cody that left the cot, only to return to a cocked eyebrow with a damp cloth. His caring and loving touch, cleaning the remnants of their coupling, brought another genuine smile to Obi-wan’s lips.

Only after they had both been satisfactorily cleaned up, had Cody laid down, and taken his man into his arms, embracing him from behind, placing small kisses on the other mans shoulder. No words had been necessary, their love showing clearly, as their legs intertwined, and hands held on, as small kisses was given in comfort, they had both sealed the living bond between them. Yet, Cody had to speak, to say the words before, while he had the chance. Before...

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Cyare.”

The words briefly shocked Obi-wan, only briefly. And where he once had believed that his path would be paved with infinite sadness, there now was a blinding hope that that, might not be the case any longer. Maybe... maybe there could be a happy ending for him.

”Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Kote”

And as the Galaxy moved on outside their little bubble of happiness, basking in the embers left behind by the flames of their union, they both vowed to survive, this time, for each other, for their love, for the survival of the flames between them.

And Cody found himself wondering, if he too would one day speak the vows with his Cyare, as others had with theirs.

_______________________________________________

- May The Force Be With You ✨

#star wars #clone wars #codywan #cody x obi wan #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #bisexual obi wan kenobi #star wars clone wars #star wars fluff #fluff #smut #fanfiction #idiots in love #general kenobi #clone trooper cody #smut as promised

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talpup · 3 years

Note

I just found read your crossroads fic over on Ao3, and damn sweetheart, I am in LOVE with this classy mob styled version of Overhaul you have going on. The smut in that last chapter was abso-fucking-lutely to die for! But I really need to know something about his character in this story. He was obviously a virgin, but r there any specific kinks he’s been thinking about or planning on trying with her?

*blush* THANK YOU!!! You can blame my good friend and favorite Kai fanfic author @inorganicone2230 They’re the one that spurred me into having the idea for this fic and then (like they’ve done with all my bnha fics) encouraged me to write it and brainstormed with me.

Yes, Kai was a virgin. Though his skill level might test some folks suspension of disbelief (something I try not to do too much in my fics, even though I write mostly fantasy).

Kai’s kinks in this fic might be fairly tame by our standards. But it is a 1920′s era au fic. Don’t really know if they’re kinks; but Kai would love to spank Maya then bend her over his desk and…

...so I don’t know if you saw my post. But I decided to do a short smutty scenario thanks/inspired by this ask. So here you go. Sorry it’s so short. Between having my ‘poison juice’ (aka infusion) last Friday and unexpected visitors yesterday and the day before I’ve been kinda wiped.

FYI this little scene would take place after things settled a bit from the last and (eventual) upcoming chapter.

WARNINGS: spanking, non-con, creampie, cockwarming; Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Promised Pleasure

Removing his dust mask as Maya entered his office, Kai frowned at her attire. “That’s not what I told you to wear today.”

Maya’s shoulders tensed. She foolishly hadn’t expected her choice of clothes to be an issue. She should've known better. Still, her pride wouldn’t let her apologize. And she knew Kai would sniff out any lie.

Deciding a gently put truth was best, she stepped further in his office. “I felt like wearing this.”

Kai’s golden eyes narrowed. She was testing boundaries again. And her testing was trying his temper. “Close the door please, my Dear.”

Despite the politeness of the ask, a shiver ran up Maya’s spine. Mouth suddenly dry, she turned and closed the door with a shaky hand.

“Lock it.” Kai ordered, voice taking on a twinge of sharpness. He had called her in here hoping for a nice diversion. But with his beautiful girl acting so spiteful he would have to resign himself to giving her a lesson.

Maya’s hand paused on the door. The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

“Maya. Lock the door, Darling. You know how I dislike repeating myself.”

The slow scrape of the lock setting in place deafened Maya to everything but her ragged breathing and thundering heart. She didn’t hear Kai’s next words. So when she turned back around, it was to find him looking more annoyed then ever.

Smothering her nerves, Maya met Kai’s piercing gaze head on. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

Unlacing his fingers, Kai sat back. “I told you to come here. This is the second time I’ve had to repeat myself. I won’t do so again.”

Maya shuffled hesitantly toward Kai’s desk.

Kai pushed back and slightly turned the chair he was sitting in. “This side. Come around near me.”

She moved around the desk, stopping a couple paces from his spread legs. Skin prickling under the caress of his roving gaze, her breath caught glimpsing the bulge in his pants.

At least Kai always brought her pleasure. Unlike the disgusting landlord who had used her and left without care or glance after. Kai always made her feel special. Beautiful. Loved. In those moments of heated bliss she lost herself and forgot she was doing this solely for justice for her brother. Basking in Kai’s twisted affection and the delightful pleasure he gave she’d start to believe she truly cared for him in return. That they could make something of this. Possibly enter a real relationship that wouldn’t end when he did as he promised and saw those who killed her brother put down.

Maya stared at the tailored suit jacket hanging over the back of Kai’s chair. Anything to avoid seeing the twitching cock in his pants.

“Why don’t you serve me some water and unbutton my vest for me, Sweetheart.”

It wasn’t a question, or even a suggestion. Maya knew well enough it was an order. But with Kai’s honeyed tone and adoring gaze it was easy to trick her mind into believing there would be no consequences for disobedience.

Turning over a heavy tumbler that sat on a silver tray at the end of his desk, she took up the crystal carafe and poured. Setting the glass in front of him, her fidgeting hands fell to her side, smoothing her skirt.

Her delay in following his second commend had Kai rising to his feet. Maya stepped back even as she hurriedly reached for his vest, seeking to rectify the offense. Kai grabbed her wrist before she touched him.

Maya grimaced at the too tight grip. “I’m sorry. I--”

Kai pulled her roughly against him. Maya stumbled, heels catching on the plush area rug. She fell against his chest. His expensive cologne assaulted her nose. She loved the smell but hated smelling it as she only got a whiff when Kai had her in his space.

Suddenly gentle, Kai’s strong arms steadied her. “Careful, Sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself.” He caressed her cheek, brushing the hair out of her face with a tenderness that didn’t match the blazing fire in his amber eyes.

Maya held perfectly still, struggling not to flinch. The way Kai flipped from loving and sweet to caustic and hurtful on a penny dime was what frightened her most about him.

Smiling, Kai’s head dipped. “You’re so beautiful, Darling. So soft and beautiful.”

His tender lips graced hers in a chaste kiss. Maya’s lashes fluttered closed accepting the kiss, thinking she had escaped his anger. Her body jerked at a sudden tug. The sound of something ripping rang out in the room. A sudden cold strike of air hit her front torso pebbling her nipples.

Maya’s eyes shot open with a gasping cry. Kai had rent her blouse and camisole open.

“If you refuse to wear what I tell you to. Maybe you should be left with nothing to wear at all.”

“Kai… I’m--”

Kai cupped her cheek. “I don’t want to hear it, Sweetheart. You apologize and apologize but keep on going astray from the clear, defined rules I’ve set. My love for you has seen me be more than patient. But I’m afraid my patience has come to an end.”

Maya stumbled again, her world spinning as she was quickly turned and shoved down against the desk. The glass of water she served slid off the surface and fell to the floor. It’s crash accentuated Maya’s surprised cry. Mind reeling, she didn’t feel the splash of water soak her hose.

“Ka—ah!” She broke off with a scream, senses assaulted by the sound of her tearing skirt. The cold hard desk against her breast and torso and Kai’s painful grip on the back of her neck. Her nose burned, eyes watering from the lingering smell cleaner that clung to the polished surface.

Hand still holding her down, Kai dropped her ruined skirt. His freed hand slid over the silky slip she worn. So soft, he mused. But not anywhere as soft as the flesh beneath. That covering was pulled down along with her panties.

“Kai! What are you--” Maya broke off with another shouted cry.

The crack of his hand hitting her ass echoed about the room. Maya’s back arched at the blooming fire but was roughly pushed back down against the desk.

“Stay, my Love. You wouldn’t want to upset me further and earn yourself another lesson after this.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Maya tried to look back at him. For a moment she swore she saw a horrid bird-like beast in place of her handsome tormentor. But the monstrous vision was gone quicker than she could blink.

“Le—le—lesson?” She stammered.

“For continually testing your bounds.” Kai leaned forward, low rasp tickling her ear. “I’m afraid this will hurt, my Dear. But know, that it will hurt me to do it more than it’ll hurt you.”

Ass still stinging from the first spank Maya doubted that. By the third strike she was certain Kai enjoyed it and was glad for the chance to discipline her supposed disobedience. Confirmation of his delight came when he paused after the fourth hit and ran a hand over her blazing butt-cheeks.

Kai’s fingers traced the red marks, trailing over the rising welts. He loved Maya’s perfect, soft skin. But there was a possessive pride in seeing her flesh temporarily marred by the work of his hand. It sparked something primal in him, turning his tender caress into a rough, digging grope. She was beautiful, his beloved. A perfect little darling that would fit so well beside him in the new wholesome world he was working to usher in. Or at least she would be once she learned to listen and obey without hesitance or question.

No one but him could touch her. Certainly no one else was allowed to see her in such a weakened and debauched state. Kai growled at the thought, fingers digging into the meat of her ass. He would gouge the persons eyes out. Cut out their tongue, and break their knees and fingers. Then grant them a slow, painful death for having seen his darling like this. Because this… His other hand loosened and trailed down her neck, slinking around her side to cup her breast, reveling in the weight as she lifted a bit thinking they were done. ...this was for him, and him alone. His throbbing dick ground against her raw ass.

Maya’s lips pressed together between clenched teeth, biting back a cry at the burning pain. Halfway into righting herself her back bumped Kai’s chest.

Weight rested on his hand planted to her side on the desk, Kai’s chin hooked over her shoulder. “Think you’ve learned your lesson, Beautiful?”

Breast heaving with a shuddering breath, Maya nodded.

“Doesn’t appear so. You know how I prefer worded responses.”

“Yes!” Maya expelled. “Yes. I’ve learned my lesson. Please, Kai. I’m sorry. So very sorry. It won’t ever happen again.”

Kai’s knuckles glided down her back. Other hand gripping her hip he pulled her blistered ass against his leaking erection. “Why don’t we test that? Bend over, Sweetheart.” Annoyed as he was by her hesitance, he smiled lightly. “Either you haven’t learned your lesson. Or liked it so much you want another.”

Before Maya could respond she was pushed and held down on the desk. Her eyes shot wide at the resounding spank. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes as they squeezed shut at the sharp boiling pain. “Kai! Please! I’m--”

Another hit landed. Then another.

Kai stopped after the tenth. Staring down at her trembling frame he had a moments regret. He should have made her count. Next time, he told himself.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his vest. Amber eyes skimmed over his handy work. Just when he thought she couldn’t be more beautiful… Even her mix of drool and tears puddled on the desk were lovely.

Lost in the consuming tumble of dull thudding pain accentuated by sharp stinging bursts, Maya didn’t hear the jangle of Kai’s belt being undone. She jolted at his hand slipping between her legs. Whimpering as his prodding fingers dragging through her folds.

Kai frowned at the minimal moisture. Usually Maya got so wet for him. It wounded and upset him. But before those emotions could take root his eyes drifted back to the pool of saliva on his desk. His heart lightened. Even with her punishment his darling had thought of him and his needs. Proving she loved him as much as he loved her.

He leaned over her and kissed her tear-stained cheek. “Thank you, my Dear. You’re so sweet and good for me.”

Maya’s lashes fluttered. She watched Kai’s hand trail through her drool, gathering it.

Bringing his wet hand to his freed length, Kai slathered her saliva over his shaft. He grimaced, skin prickling with the beginnings of a inch. But soothed himself that was Maya. She was clean. Worthy. His.

It’s like indirect oral, he thought with a steadying breath. The prickling itch diminished then fully disappeared as he focused on Maya, pumping his fist to fully wet his cock.

Lining up his cock he leaned back over her and kissed her shoulder. “You’ve had you’re punishment, Darling. And you took it so well. Now, let me remind you of my love and the pleasure I can give.”

Maya’s shining eyes flicked to Kai’s. Her brow furrowed. Was it the light? Or was there a dim otherworldly glow in those honeyed depths? The image of the demon Dabi’s bright burning eyes flashed through her mind. But it vanished in an instant from the breach of Kai’s fat cock head. She would've cried out at the burning stretch if her breath hadn’t seized in her lungs.

Kai hissed at the pull of his sensitive skin. Maya’s drool helped. But it didn’t provide the smooth silky glide her delicious arousal did. Wanting the discomfort over with he snapped his hips flush against her, driving his length in her tight hole.

Fully sheathed, Kai slowly exhaled. His eyes closed, head rolling back. Taking a moment to simply feel, he basked in her velvety embrace. This would never get old. Slipping his aching cock into Maya’s perfect, tight pussy. Feeling her walls stretch to make room for him then flutter as they adjusted to his penetrating presence was something that consumed his thoughts; just like everything else about her.

Maya mewled the most pitiful whine beneath him and Kai lost it. His darling was just so sweet. So beautiful. So helpless.

His hips pulled back and slammed right back against her.

If asked, Maya wouldn’t have been able to say if her scream was from the hard thrust or Kai’s pelvis pounding into her blazing red backside.

Her back arched, lifting her off the desk.

One hand gripping her hip, Kai’s other hand grabbed the back of Maya’s neck and shoved her back down. Never once did his ramming thrusts stop.

The once dulling pain of Maya’s welted ass sharpened again. Fresh tears seeped from her eyes. Kai had lied. He had said she had her punishment. The pain was suppose to be over. But every thrust was just another spank. Until…

Kai’s feet shifted. Angling his hips he hit that spot in her that had her seeing stars.

Pleasure mixed with the pain. The rough scrape of his trousers zipper didn’t hurt as badly. Even the occasional jab of his belts buckle didn’t make her want to crawl up and die.

Kai almost reached around to finger her clit. But an idea struck him. It was scandalous. But so was fucking his darling over his desk. He groaned, cock twitching at the thought. His pace sped seeking his own release without a care for hers.

Maya rocked against the desk. Her hips started to push back against him despite the blazing pain to her ass. A different kind of heat pooled in her belly. But just as the coil started to tighten another warmth filled her.

Kai thrust deep inside Maya, cock coming alive. He grunted, pushing his hips firmly against her, driving her against the desk, seeking to get even deeper as hot ropes of cum spit from his pulsing cock.

Building orgasm lost, Maya deflated atop the desk. Her nails clawed at the polished surface, hands balling into weak fists. Though grateful it was over, she couldn’t help but be bit bitter about Kai’s second lie. ‘...let me remind you of my love and the pleasure I can give.’ Yes, she had felt some pleasure. But she hadn’t gotten her full pleasure.

She waited for Kai to pull out. When he didn’t she looked back at him.

Kai greeted her with a smug smile. “You didn’t cum. Did you?”

Maya’s mouth fell open.

Before she could respond, her torso was pulled up off the desk. Heated as his skin was through his button-up shirt, Maya shivered the instant her back touched his chest.

Kai’s arms wrapped around her. He held her firmly against him, keeping his cock snugly inside her. His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Did you think I forgot about my promise, Sweetheart? I said I was going to remind you of the pleasure I can give.”

Keeping her glued against him, Kai retook his seat. Head a whirl of confusion, Maya barely grimaced at the discomfort of his softening cock shifting inside her. The heated pain of her abused butt numbed by her racing mind trying to figure out what Kai was doing.

Soon enough she got her answer and wished she never had.

“I’m a man of man word, my Love. What do you say you keep me warm while I do some work? Then I can give you that promised pleasure.”

After this, Kai might develop a breeding kink to go with spanking, rough office sex, and cokwarming.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

Thank you all for being so patient with me and the posting of this fic. Special thanks to Anon for the ask and inspiring this one shot. And as always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for being the best fellow writer friend (and friend in general) and encouraging and brainstorming with me. I mean it when I say I would’ve given up posting long ago if it wasn’t for your support.

#kai chisaki #yandere kai #bnha #1920s #one shots #crossroads #Anonymous Ask #asks #inspired by anon ask

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blueeyedmonster11 · 4 years

Text

Need to Feel Loved

In which Persephone has a truly terrible day while working her way up the bureaucratic ladder, and Hades has to rethink his plans for date night.

Set in “Time before time” Amaurot.

Tried to keep details about Persephone vague so that everyone could imagine her for themselves, but some details are based off of my own WoL so sorry about that!

Everything was perfect. Absolutely, positively, unequivocally perfect.

Hades had been planning this evening for weeks, if not months, now, ever since Persephone had forgiven him for not personally informing her of his promotion to “Most Eminent Emet-Selch of the Convocation of Fourteen.” Apparently, his beloved friend had felt slighted that he’d not gone out of his way to inform her himself, and he had only just been let, as Hythlodaeus would say, out of the doghouse.

Tonight, he would finally ask Persephone’s permission to begin courting her. He prayed to the Star that Hythlodaeus had not opened that big mouth of his and ruined things.

The appointed time he’d given Persephone came and went, the luxurious meal he’d hand cooked for the event quickly going cold while his annoyance heated up. Despite his feelings for his friend, Hades did not like being kept waiting, and certainly not when he was already feeling uncharacteristically nervous.

An hour passed, then two, then — a light knock on the door of his flat sounded as the time neared two and three-quarters hours after it was supposed to sound. With an anxious sort of excited anticipation buzzing through his body, Hades got up and forced himself to casually stroll to the door, trying his best to not look like an over-eager puppy.

“Well it’s about damn ti-” he began with his usual snark, only to cut himself short when he spied the razor-thin line of Persephone’s mouth that always signaled when she was holding back either ugly sobbing or apocalyptic rage. He wasn’t sure which he dreaded more. “Uh...Do come in?”

Persephone needed no further encouragement, trudging past him wordlessly. She didn’t even acknowledge the elegantly-set table, the plates of lukewarm (but still delicious) food, the flickering candles. In fact, she flat-out ignored the crystal wine goblets he’d brought out for the occasion, and opted to simply grab the bottle of wine and pull the cork out with her teeth as she flopped unceremoniously onto the plush sofa beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Perse-” “Don’t. I’m this close to living up to the name ‘Destroyer of Worlds,’ and I’d hate to destroy your flat, so just don’t for a moment.”

She groaned, taking a swig of wine before reaching up to remove her plain white mask, tossing it towards the corner of the room.

Hades could tell from the way she was scrunching her brow that she was in a remarkably bad mood, and so he calmly made his way over to the sofa, plopping down next to his friend and tossing his arm over the back in an invitation for Persephone to come close if she so wished.

She so wished.

“Today sucked ass,” she mumbled, cuddling up to his side and drawing his arm around her shoulders. “I know we haven’t discussed us since that kiss and the fight that followed and all of that mess, but I’ve had a terrible enough day that I just need to feel loved.”

Hades felt his face heat up slightly, but he said nothing and just opted to run his willowy fingers up and down Persephone’s arm lightly. “Would you like to tell me what’s got you so upset, or am I going to have to drag my ass down to the Bureau of the Secretariat and knock a few heads together?” Persephone raised the bottle of wine to her lips, but Hades gently plucked it from her hand before she could drink any, earning him a glare-pout from his beloved friend. “Agamemnon’s been spreading rumours about me, apparently, and when I tried to confront him on it, he told me I was being dramatic and over-sensitive.”

Hades raised a brow, looking at her expectantly. “What sorts of rumours?”

“Oh, you know, the kinds that men like to tell about women who surpass them on the bureaucratic food chain. Apparently, I’ve been sleeping my way to the top while also fooling around with you and Hythlodaeus. It’d be nice if someone could’ve told me I was doing all of these things so I could remember to enjoy it, but I’ve been too busy working my ass off so I have even the tiniest chance of getting that internship with Azem — decisions go out tomorrow.”

Hades couldn’t help but chuckle at the pink that rose in her cheeks as she spoke, the way she gestured her hands along with her words, the crackles of magic that zipped through her hair as she got more agitated. How many centuries had he spent taking note of these little tells of hers; it wasn’t the rumours that truly angered her. It was the undermining of all her hard work, and while it made him want to destroy this Agamemnon person, he knew very well that Persephone’s wrath was more terrifying than his own by tenfold.

“I am very sorry, Persephone, that the assholes with whom you work do not show you the respect you deserve,” he sighed, giving her a small squeeze as he brought her close in a slightly awkward hug. He wasn’t particularly fond of such gestures of affection, but he knew that she seemed rather addicted to hugs and they always made her feel better. “Have faith, though, that you will get that internship, and then you will no longer have to deal with them.”

Persephone sighed, resting her cheek above his heart, her arms winding around his midsection. Hades took a deep breath, reveling in her rose and blackcurrant scent for a moment.

They sat in silence for a while as she calmed down, soothed by Hades’ warmth and presence.

“. . . . .Do you want to discuss the kiss?” she whispered, looking up at him with big eyes. “I made my feelings for you very clear at the time, Persephone, and I have little else to say beyond the fact that, no matter what you choose to do with the knowledge of those feelings, I wish to continue having you as part of my life in whatever capacity you feel comfortable with.”

Persephone gave a small nod, a soft smile forming on those beautiful lips. “Well, I think I made my feelings pretty clear too...Plus, people already think we’re a pair. We might as well give it a try, Aidoneus.”

Hades chuckled, ruffling her hair.

“Very well, then, my beloved.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv emet selch #ffxiv hades #shadowbringers #shadowbringers spoilers #i'm not very good at ending these things so oh well #i have lots of feelings about amaurotine hades and wol #Grace Notes #my writing #pls be kind #emet selch #ffxiv fanfiction

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trippydooda · 4 years

Text

,,,idk what to say for myself at this point :^) a preview for a slow burn fic get ready again bois

Fandom: ATEEZ

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung/Choi San

Rating: blurb is G unless you don’t like cursing

Word Count: 2,040

Jung Wooyoung, in some people’s eyes, has royally screwed up.

Now, there are levels to that statement, and you can really close your eyes and take a pick at this point. Is it when he flunked out of university? Ran away from home? Didn’t take his dog out when he was ten, and so when he beloved Coo shat on the carpet he was scolded for being a terrible dog? Or perhaps it’s where he finds himself now, pinned to a wall in an alleyway while a stranger humps his leg. Well, he’s hesitant to say “stranger”. They met on Tinder (another screw up to pick from), talked a few days and when Wooyoung got sick of masturbating, agreed to dinner. The thing is, he should have been more careful. The thing is, Tinder doesn’t really have a “swipe left on serial killers” options. Not really, anyway.

He has his reservations about sneaking in an alleyway to make out, but desperation and loneliness made him forget reason. So now his Tinder date’s tongue is down his throat, the taste of wine smeared into his conscience at this point, and a reluctant erection growing in his pants. This is, of course, until his date speaks.

“You humans are all so easy to rile up,” his date whispers into his ear, and Wooyoung can actually feel the ferocity in which his dick deflates.

And Wooyoung tries to respond, push back, has the indignant “Excuse me?” in the forefront of his mouth, but that’s before a sharp piercing is driven into his neck. Precisely two piercings. Followed by the feeling not unlike getting his blood drawn. So maybe he realises it a bit too late.

His Tinder is apparently some kind of vampire, and he’s being murdered. And Wooyung being Wooyoung, his last thought as he crumples to the ground is at least he doesn’t have to pay off his student loans anymore.

There are a few things Wooyoung thought being dead entailed. For one, he was pretty sure it didn’t involve being carried away by a stranger (another one, he reminds himself), nor did it involve the distinct feeling of humanly and living sensation of waking up. Yet he blinks all the same, albeit slowly, staring at a ceiling that looks right out of an Italian romance novel. It’s got carved ivory on it in the shape of angels, so Wooyoung is fairly convinced himself at this point he’s dead. Died, whatever.

“Ah, you’re awake,” a soft voice says, and Wooyoung tenses. He doesn’t look away from the ceiling, tries to figure out if it’s too late to pretend he’s still asleep (if dead people did that) when the voice continues, “I was worried you were too far gone.”

And… What? Wooyoung tears his gaze away from the rather pretty ceiling, sitting up to see an even prettier man. He has soft eyes raven black hair. Pale skin, but there’s still a hint of bronze in the undertones. Yet the nagging feeling of being distinctly dead pries at his conscience, so of course the first thing he blurts is, “Are you an angel?”

The man immediately erupts in a laugh that makes Wooyoung flush. He tells himself it’s from embarrassment and not the way the man laughs, like it’s from the back of his throat. It’s too endearing. Far too. “I’m not sure that’s what mortals call me,” he says, and Wooyoung can feel the precise feeling of the flush disappearing.

He lowers his shoulders. Mortals, the pretty man had said. That seems to really prove everything Wooyoung needs to know, so he ends up saying out loud, “So I’m really dead then.” He flops back down on the bed, glares at the ivory angels and tries to will his heart to beat slower. But then it strikes him. His heart… Is beating? Do dead people do that? Man, he wishes he had paid more attention in church.

“I suppose in a sense, yes you are.”

Electing to ignore the hot angel-not-angel, Wooyoung rolls over. He buries his face in the silk of the pillow and pulls the covers up so his head pokes out of a hole like some form of undead burrito. He can hear the man sigh and feels the mattress adjust in the weight of him sitting down, but Wooyoung ignores that too. He feels tears prickling at his eyes and tries to blink them away, but all that serves is to make one fall. And then he feels a hand on his shoulder, which just sends the flood gates open wide. Thankfully Wooyoung has mastered the art of crying silently, but he can still feel the betraying sensation of himself shaking. He hadn’t quite mastered that bit yet.

“I had considered letting you die truly,” the man says, rubbing small circles on Wooyoung’s shoulders. “Your blood was impossibly sweet, it’s hard to get blood like that. But… You had managed to open your eyes, and I just. I couldn’t let it go to waste.”

Wooyoung blinks in confusion. For one, this man is talking rather nonchalantly about Wooyoung’s blood, and in the same breath… Did he compliment him? Still, the man called him dead by all means and so he’s only harbouring a little animosity, so he stays silent. The man sighs, removing his hand. Wooyoung won’t admit he’s a bit sad at it. “I suppose it was a bit selfish of me,” the man explains, “But it’s not like I could have really asked if you wanted it.”

Confusion gets the best of him, so Wooyoung shoots up. “If I wanted what?”

“To be a vampire,” the man replies instantly.

And Wooyoung just stares. The man stares back. It gets a bit awkward, if he’s honest. “A what,” he finally says, presenting it more of a statement rather than a question.

The man (vampire…?) answers anyway, “Yes.”

It doesn’t help. In fact, none of this is really helping Wooyoung so he just nods silently, lifts a finger. “Right, well, your bed is very comfy and the ceiling is pretty, but I’ll just be… Leaving.”

“I wouldn’t leave the room,” the man says as Wooyoung ungracefully untangles himself and nearly falls on the floor. He ignores the warning anyway, stumbling as if he’s hungover as he makes his way to the door.

He can hear the man let out an exasperated sigh behind him as Wooyoung swings the door open. He meant it to be not as dramatic as it turns out to be, what with the door practically cracking the wall with the force in which it slams against it. Under normal circumstances he’d say sorry, but instead he feels like being a petulant child and stomps out into a barely lit hallway. The whole house seems to scream Victorian, he notices, and is apparently too distracted by a rather regal painting of his angel-vampire, slamming into a hard object. As it turns out, when he looks up, “object” really isn’t the right word, as he comes face to face with another stunningly gorgeous man, one with slightly curled silver hair this time (he’s not sure when he started to categorise hot men by their hair colour, but it seems to fit so far). Gorgeous man number two’s eyes are a deep red as he peers down at Wooyoung.

“Well, it seems San wasn’t exaggerating when he spoke of you,” number two says, flashing a smile and… Fangs. Wooyoung would call them sharp canines, only they’re honestly not and he knows this. It doesn’t stop the undignified squeal of terror that erupts from him anyway. “My, what a voice too,” he continues as Wooyoung swings himself around, darting down the hallway.

More tears tug at his eyes and he hates it, hates how confused he is and how gorgeous men aside, he’s not getting any answers. He eventually slips and falls as he now realises he’s running barefoot, and comes crashing to the ground and through another door. Pain radiates through him, particularly on the side of his neck, and when he looks up he can’t help the, “Oh fucking hell” that falls from his lips.

A whole congregation of people stare at him, dressed in everything from what he swears his grandmother wore in her casket to some God awful neon crop top and matching shorts. They all sort of share this awkward blink session before the neon wearing woman comes up to Wooyoung, who is definitely still sitting ass on the ground, and she leans down. Her eyes are a deep red as well, and at least he’s somewhat prepared for when she exposes fangs as well.

“You smell awfully pretty, mortal,” she coos, stroking a clawed finger along Wooyoung’s cheeks.

“I don’t really like girls,” Wooyoung blurts, and the woman just laughs. It’s devoid of any true humour though, especially evident when she cuts into his cheek, drawing blood. Wooyoung is a little glad he still bleeds (he doesn’t think dead people would), but any good feeling is washed away when the woman licks his blood rather enthusiastically off her finger.

What were once red eyes now shift into pitch black, no whites visible, and her fangs protrude more than before when she looks back down. Wooyoung is pretty sure he should get the fuck up even before she snarls, “And to think San would hide such a delicious meal from us.”

So Wooyoung does what he assumes any sane person would do at such a sentence as that, and punches her right in the nose. As she stumbles back and shrieks, Wooyoung springs to his feet with his hands balled up in fists in front of his face, gets ready to run, but someone grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks. He shrieks this time as he’s raised several inches off the ground, and he flails trying to break free of the rather painful grip this person has when he’s twirled around and comes back to face with someone else with black eyes.

“Some beta bitch isn’t going to drink you, allow a nice alpha to take her place,” this one growls and Wooyoung whimpers.

He’s promptly dropped on the ground when another person roundhouse kicks this one in the side, but before Wooyoung hits the floor he’s caught, but when he peers down at another clawed hand he’s pretty sure he’s not saved by any means. “Hands off you filth,” his catcher growls right back, “Something as precious as this one needs to be drank by royalty.”

“Royalty!” The woman from before barks, “I’ve never heard such bullshit before! Unhand the omega and I’ll consider not killing you too.”

Wooyoung doesn’t get much of a chance to ask why in the hell these people are talking about ranks of wolves before the whole room erupts in screams and arguments. He catches some rather unsettling words such as “halfling”, another “omega”, “virgin”, before they all just fall silent. Wooyoung, who was being passed around like some crude game of hot potato, is finally let go in earnest, although the only thing it gifts him is a hard drop on the ground again. His neck pulsates and he brings a hand to it as he swivels around to see why he was finally spared.

It seems two people have rather dramatically entered the room, and Wooyoung sort of hates that he recognises them. It’s Gorgeous Number One and Gorgeous Number Two, and the first looks only a little displeased. Wooyoung isn’t sure how he noticed before, but this man has brilliant red eyes as well. Only they flash to a piercing yellow when he peers down at Wooyoung, who suddenly feels just so small. The second one trails slowly behind, hands in his pockets as he nonchalantly looks around at the room of people who Wooyoung was sure were just arguing at who got to kill him. Nothing is making sense.

He barely notices when the first man kneels down at him, eyes back to a softer shade of red. They stay that way only a moment before they fade now into a more normal looking brown, and he smiles. “I told you it wasn’t a good idea to leave the room.”

#i'm trash tbh #i got inspired because i swear everyone in kpop looks like a vampire #anyway #Woosan #Woosan fic #Jung Wooyoung #Choi San #ATEEZ #ATEEZ fic

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xofoldedpages · 5 years

Text

Bowstring { byleth x claude }

Pairing: Byleth x Claude Rated: Explicit Genre: Complete and utter smut Warnings: very mild abuse (like, very mild), dub-con Ao3 Post

The force caused her grip to falter on the wooden sword, and it tumbled away as her knees and hands fell to the ground. Sharp, radiating pain in her jaw blossomed behind a developing bruise that was soon replaced with a thin, cutting sting along her throat. Around Byleth's neck was the string of his bow, pulling her head back.

"Sheesh, Teach. Sleeping all those years really made you rusty, huh?"

--- The mere thought of praying to a god revolted Claude. He has - and always will - believe that the only person you can truly rely on is yourself. At least, that's how it was before time changed everything; before five years passed; before the Alliance came to a deadlock within the destructive war. Now, he found himself relying on a Goddess.

Or, he would, but the woman was stubborn, steadfast on traveling to Faerghus after learning what had become of his Princeliness. Claude couldn't exactly blame her, though.

Actually, he could.

He was the one who traveled back to the monastery, holding onto his belief that Byleth would return to them. He was the one who saw her bathed in the light of a new dawn as she ascended to the Goddess Tower. He was the one who greeted her with open arms after her five-year slumber. Yet, Byleth still chose Dimitri, just like she had all those years ago.

After seeing Byleth dance around the battlefield like a work of art in motion, his tactician mind knew the Golden Deer house needed her expertise. So, when Professor Manuela stepped up to the front of their classroom, Claude was less than pleased. He hid his feelings well, though, behind a feigned grin as the months passed at Garreg Mach. That facade nearly faltered, though, during the Horsebow Moon.

Claude had been on his way back to his quarters when his Princeliness' voice crept from the cracked door of the Blue Lion's classroom.

"Professor, please accept these gift on behalf of the Blue Lions."

Curious, Claude moved closer. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame, his ankles crossing over one another. Neither Byleth nor Dimitri noticed his presence.

"Thank you, Dimitri," Byleth accepted the note and brooch.

At the time, Claude thought nothing of this little meeting, nonchalantly hovering nearby, waiting for his opportunity to intervene and wish the professor a happy birthday as well. That time never came.

After receiving her gifts, Dimitri leaned in and placed a tentative kiss on Byleth's lips. Claude nearly toppled over at sight. He brashly moved from the doorframe to just outside the classroom. The reaction Claude was expecting from Byleth - a swift reprimand - never came either.

"Dimitri," Claude could hear the frantic exhalation in Byleth's speech. "I've already told you, we can't continue this. Not until you're out of the Officer's Academy."

Having gained enough information, Claude continued his stride back to the dormitories. A wicked grin sprouted on his lips.

"His Princeliness and Teach, huh?"

Jealousy rattled deep within his bones that night, anchoring itself within Claude's very skeleton. Back then, Claude chalked it up to a simple schoolboy crush on his professor, but it was much more than that. Byleth was unreachable, and Claude did not appreciate unreachable. That obsession continued to manifest in Byleth's absence, developing into something more sinister. Now, he was older; wiser and there was nothing Claude could not achieve if he set that brilliant mind to it, even his precious Teach.

"Awe, C'mon, Teach. Humor me for once," Claude chimed, his hands crossing behind the nape of his neck leisurely.

"For old time's sake."

He flourished his request with his signature wink, and Byleth found herself unable to resist his charm.

"Fine," she responded. "I'll train with you one last time, but then I leave for Faerghus."

It was the middle of the night; the perfect time to travel undetected towards the Kingdom's capital of Fhridiad. Claude nodded, affirming her request. "I won't stop you, Teach."

"Good, then let's head to the training grounds."

A part of Byleth accepted Claude's request because of the guilt riddling her insides. Both Claude and Dimitri were her students, and she cared for them deeply, but Dimitri needed her more. He always had.

They eventually pushed their way through the cumbersome doors leading into the training grounds. The area seemed untouched by the hands of time, pristine as ever. As Byleth marveled at the unscathed arena, Claude began to shamelessly shed his outer layer of clothes. His gold-plated shoulder guard was the first to hit the ground with a ringing thud.

The noise prompted Byleth to twist her body just in time to witness Claude taking hold of his festive sash, untying it. The removal of his sash made it easier to discard his neutral-hued shirt, leaving him in black undergarments. His clothes had hidden just how much his body grew within the last five years, and Byleth's eyes roamed over Claude's taut muscles, admiring his unblemished bronze skin. Claude had always been beautiful.

"Is that a blush I see, Teach?" He teased, his arms finding their way to his hips. Byleth quickly turned her head and blamed her blossoming cheeks on the frigid weather of the Ethereal Moon.

"It's freezing out, Claude." The chilled winds of the North had slithered their way into Garreg Mach.

"I know, but exercising always gets me hot and bothered," He paused his brazen teasing to walk towards a row of stored weapons. To no surprise on Byleth's end, Claude had chosen a longbow.

While her former student shuffled through the weapons, Byleth followed his example and shed her outer layer of armor, leaving her in only training garments.

"Here, Teach, a sword-" Claude turned, but the sight of his undressing professor made him forget his next words. "Wow, looking radiant as ever, my friend."

"Hush, Claude," Was all she could mutter, the cold nipping at her skin. Emerald eyes wandered to Byleth's chest. Claude never prayed, but he found himself silently thanking whatever God ruled over the weather, blessing him with Teach's perfect, hard nipples. "The sword?" Her words pulled Claude back to the surface of reality, and he tossed her the training instrument.

Claude pulled a single arrow from its confines and turned to face Byleth. "How about you start from the other end of the training grounds and charge at me?" He mused. "I'll try and stop you."

It was different from the spars she was used to, but Byleth did not have the heart to reject Claude's proposal, so she simply nodded and made her way to the opposite side. A grim smirk tugged at Claude's lips.

"Here?" She questioned.

"Perfect," He responded, pressing the bow to his cheek. "On three, alright?"

Byleth nodded.

"One."

She readied herself.

"Two."

Her sword lifted, and Claude pulled the arrow tautly.

"Hey, Teach,"

Byleth groaned, clearly frustrated and ready to begin. "What?"

"How do you think the church will react when they learn their beloved Teach was having an affair with one of her students?"

"What?" Byleth gasped, the color from her face draining. Her stilled heart descended into the pit of her stomach.

"Three."

Claude released his grip, already moving towards Byleth. Caught off guard, she barely had time to dodge the arrow that struck where her shoulder had once been. Regaining some composure, she thrashed her sword in Claude's direction, but his longbow connected with her jaw before she could strike him.

The force caused her grip on the wooden sword to falter, and it tumbled away as her knees and hands fell to the ground. Sharp, radiating pain in her jaw blossomed behind a developing bruise that was soon replaced with a thin, cutting sting along her throat. In her daze, Claude had managed to kneel behind her, his crotch perfectly aligned with her ass. Around Byleth's neck was the string of his bow, pulling her head back.

"Sheesh, Teach. Sleeping all those years really made you rusty, huh?"

Seeing his former teacher on all fours, helpless with his bow around her neck, made Claude's cock twitch in his pants. Byleth could feel Claude's growing erection and began to squirm under his body weight. This, however, only caused her ass to sway against his cock, and he let out a low groan deep within his throat.

"Claude," As Byleth spoke, the sharp string pressed into her neck's tender flesh, embedding raw impressions into her protruding trachea. "You're hurting me," She actually managed to squeeze out the words, teetering on the edge of consciousness, as her arm reached up to wrap her fingers around the string.

He pressed back harder on the bow. "Come now, Teach. Use that exquisite brain of yours," He cooed, looming his body down, so his chest was flush with Byleth's back. His teeth caught the lobe of her ear, and he playfully nibbled on the other shell, rolling it between his teeth. "Who woulda guessed that I would be the one teaching you a lesson, my friend."

By now, Byleth's world was fading to black, and Claude was living up to the name of his crest's dragon, producing stars in her vision. Before she completely let go of reality, Claude slackened the bow, and Byleth instinctively coughed. He moved quickly, using his knee to break the wooden bow in half. This allowed him to shuffle Byleth's hands behind her back, securing them with the string that had previously cut off her supply of oxygen. This position left her helpless with a cheek resting on the training ground floor.

"Ya know, I didn't want to have to do this."

That was a lie, he did.

"If you had just chosen the Golden Deer, things would have been different."

His voice seemed distant, almost nostalgic as he reminisced on old times. Byleth's jaw tightened, and a mixture of emotions overwhelmed her. Anger? Desperation? She remained silent as he continued.

"But instead, you chose Dimitri," Claude shook his head, his tongue flicking on the roof of his mouth in disapproval. "And then you choose him again! Can you believe that?" As he spoke, his arm snaked around her waist, and his other brushed her luminescent hair to one side. Then, he began to graze his lips along the back of Byleth's neck, building heat whenever they collided with her skin.

His touch was slow and calculated and left no part of her untouched. He moved from her nape to the back of her ear, and finally to the curve of her jawline. The hair he had grown on his face tickled her skin as he moved. When Claude reached the bruised corner of her mouth, his touch eased. He caressed the blemish with his lips once, and then again, and continued to litter the spot with kisses.

Byleth, sickened with his actions, tried to pull her face away. Claude's fingers immediately grabbed onto her chin, and he made sure to press his thumb into her bruise. Her face contorted, but she refused to whimper. "Wow, Teach, you're gonna make this a lot more difficult than it needs to be, huh?"

As he whispered against her ear, his hand snuck up the back of her thigh and into her shorts. "I don't usually reveal my schemes, but I'll indulge you this one time."

His fingers ran along with the pattern of her stockings, and a wicked grin lit up his face. "Already soaking, I see."

Byleth cursed, her words vaporizing into the cold air. "No need to be embarrassed, Teach. I am pretty damn handsome, after all."

His fingers worked her cunt from the outside of her stockings. He focused on her swelling clit, using leisurely circles to try and get a rise out of her. "You see," He began, his fingers picking up pace ever-so-slightly. "I'm going to fuck you so thoroughly you forget all about your plans and his Princeliness."

Claude could feel Byleth's breath hitch in her throat. "And, if that doesn't work, which I'm sure it will," He was confident in his abilities, "You'll do what I say, or would you rather Seteth and the rest of the church find out about your little rendezvouses?"

"Claude, please, I never-"

As much as her shorts permitted, Claude retracted his hand and smacked at Byleth's wet cunt.

"Eh, eh, eh," His words cut into her sentence. "I don't want to hear the words 'Clause please' unless you're begging for my cock."

Byleth wondered when Claude's mouth became so filthy. Or, maybe it had always been like that? Despite her growing arousal and a budding warmth in her stomach, she fought against her wrist restraints.

Claude smiled half-heartedly. "You know, Teach, I always did admire your stubbornness."

Claude withdrew his hand from her shorts completely, but only to slide them down to her knees. He leaned back, watching her squirm. In truth, Claude appreciated the pearly flesh of her ass, the skin contrasting against her black lace stockings. He planted a firm spanking on her cheek, and Byleth's lower back bent in response. A dark chuckle rumbled deep in his throat. "Whoa, Teach, slow down. No need to bend over backward for me quite yet."

"I swear, Claude, once I'm released from these restraints-" Byleth began to mumble threats, but they only made Claude's cock swell with excitement, and he pulled down her stockings in haste.

Already imagining the taste of his dear professor on his tongue, Claude parted Byleth's lips, revealing her moistened and pink cunt to him. Feeling suddenly exposed and well aware of his fingers on her womanhood, Byleth gasped. Five years ago, she and Dimitri had never ventured this far sexually. The two had only kissed in fear of retaliation for their taboo relationship.

Upon awaking from her slumber, Byleth assumed that Dimitri would be the one to defile her. And yet, here was Claude positioned behind her, using her old relationship as leverage against her. The worst part was, he paid no mind to her protests.

Without warning, Claude's tongue ground against Byleth's entrance, lapping up whatever juice he could drain from the hole. Byleth inhaled sharply, then bit her bottom lip. She refused to give in to him.

This only kindled something dark within Claude; a deep desire to have his professor quivering at his feet, begging for his cock. He, however, would take his time and savor her taste. His tongue worked her cunt expertly while his hands roamed her thighs and ass, massaging circles into the lean flesh. Soon, his tongue focused on her clit with almost painful pressure, working itself up and down then left and right. He started agonizingly slow, and Byleth began to whimper.

Her response earned a smile against her clit, and Claude gradually began to add tempo to his pace. His technique made Byleth's legs tremble against his head. He gave one final long, hard suck against the nub before withdrawing his face from her parts. From behind, Claude witnessed the unsteady rise and fall of Byleth's chest, and despite the frigid air, noticed hair clinging to her drenched neck.

"C-Claude," Byleth breathed out between pants.

"You've always had an unusual amount of composure, Teach," His tan, slender fingers traced up her back, above her restrained wrists, and to the front of her face as his body leaned forward. "But watching your legs shake for me, now that is a sight to behold."

When Byleth's lips parted to speak, Claude seized the opportunity to force his fingers in her mouth. "Show me what those pretty little lips of yours can do," his words ghosted her ear. She had half a mind to bite down on his digits. The only thing stopping her was the position she was in. He had the upper hand, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Tentatively, her lips closed around Claude's fingers, and she swirled her tongue around them best she could. While her tongue served his fingers, he slid them down Byleth's throat, and she heaved against them. When Claude deemed them slick enough, he removed them before she would actually gag.

Still soaking, it was easy for Claude to insert them into her cunt, and he could have sworn she moaned. It wasn't a matter of if, but when she would be begging for him. His fingers curved inside her, and he massaged her walls, seeking her most sensitive area.

Byleth delivered a feeble moan, and Claude knew he had found it. "There we go," Claude announced, his fingers working feverishly at her slickened walls.

Byleth tossed her head back, relishing in the warmth that spread through her abdomen. "F-fuck, Claude." The sound of his name on her tongue made his cock drip with pre-cum.

To put Byleth over the edge, he reached in front of her and began to stroke her swollen clit. Both hands worked together tirelessly, and he felt her walls starting to clamp down on his fingers.

And then he stopped, removing his fingers from her entrance. He licked at the remnants of her cunt on his fingers and admired the near breathless woman beneath him.

"Claude, please-"

He smacked her ass.

"I already told you, Teach, I don't want to hear those words unless they're paired with the words fuck and me." As Claude reminded Byleth of his conditions, he undid his pants, his erection springing from its confines. He gripped his pulsating cock and rubbed it against Byleth's wet cunt.

The world around Byleth was spinning in a tipsy haze, and she swore she was intoxicated at that moment.

"Please, Claude, fuck me."

Immediately, Claude embraced Byleth's neck in the crook of his arm, the tip of his cock readying itself at her opening. "Sheesh, Teach, if that's what you wanted, all you had to do was ask." And, without warning, he plunged himself inside of her.

"Fuck," was the only word he could utter against her ear, his pelvis shifting flush against her ass.

Byleth felt a dull ripping sensation that soon dwindled into overwhelming bliss as Claude remained station inside her. She felt him twitch against her walls, his nails digging into the side of her hips.

"Teach, you feel fucking phenomenal."

Claude had been with countless women during Garreg Mach and after, but they paled in comparison to Byleth. Or, maybe he was blinded by the fact he couldn't actually have her. Not in the ordinary sense of the word 'have,' at least.

"Please, just stop talking, and start-"

Claude pulled back his hips only to propel himself hard into his teacher once again, and Byleth cried out. "I don't think you're in any position to make demands," he whispered against her ear, his arm pressing against her neck.

He started slow and meticulous, pulling his cock backward until it nearly spilled out of Byleth, only to thrust forward and fill her completely.

"I wonder," Claude began, drawing his cock back. "What Dimitri would say if he could see you now. How wet you are for my cock," his hips moved forward, stretching Byleth's walls. He half-expected her to protest, but her only answer was a needy moan. The display was all he needed to know that Dimitri was far from her mind.

He released her neck, and his hands gripped a fist full of her hair, jerking her head back. Then, he began to ravage her cunt with swift thrusts. With each moan she choked out, Claude's pace quickened. He fucked her with primal need, her body bouncing off his dick in perfect rhythm.

It wasn't long before an almost uncomfortable warmth bloomed in Byleth's core. First, her legs trembled, but then her whole body followed. With his unoccupied hand, Claude reached below Byleth, stumbling to find her clit in his haste. When he did, he stroked rough circles with his fingers against the puffed nub and pushed her head down into the cold cobblestone ground.

Byleth could barely handle the spine-numbing sensations that conquered her body. Claude, feeling her walls tighten, maneuvered his cock more rapidly, the bouncing adding friction to the fingers violating her clit. The woman yelled out his name over and over into the air as she neared her climax. When she finally released herself on Claude, he could no longer hold his own back.

His cock pulsed and his body hitched forward. Biting down on Byleth's shoulder, he released his warm cum in her walls. Claude rested his chest on her back, striving to regulate his erratic breathing. When he finally unlatched from her, a mixture of their climax seeped down her thigh and onto her stockings; a sight Claude was quite proud of.

With ease, Claude released her wrists from his makeshift restraints with a lively laugh. "See, Teach, that wasn't so bad, now was it?"

The next morning, the others were surprised to see Byleth still apart of their ranks. No one complained, however, especially Claude. His former professor proved valuable on and off the battlefield.

---

"Hey, Claude," Hilda's voice called out to the Alliance leader as she stood in the doorway of the Captain's Quarters. "Have you seen the Professor? I've been looking everywhere for her!"

Emerald eyes glanced up from the Tactician's Primer he was studying, his mouth puckering to one side. "I can't say that I have, Hilda. Did you try the sauna yet?"

"Oh, good idea!" And with that, Hilda practically bounced away.

Claude's composure deteriorated as soon as his retainer was out of sight.

"Fuck," He breathed, grasping at Byleth's hair as she swirled and bobbed her head along the length of his cock. From her knees, she glanced up at Claude, his sun-kiss faced was painted with a rosy-pink hue, and his unruly hair framed his handsome face.

And he was hers just as much as she was his. --- As always, I am taking requests! Just click on the request / comment / love link in the right-hand corner of my page! All Claude x Byleth fanfiction can be found searching just that; Claude x Byleth

#fe3h #fe3h claude #fe3h byleth #claude x byleth #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses #post timeskip #fire emblem fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #smut #fire emblem smut #send in your requests #fe3h fiction #fe3h fanfic #oneshot #one shot #one shot smut #fe: 3h

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theworkofxanderking · 4 years

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The Originals: Bad Blood (Alternative Season 5)

Episode 5: A Mikaelson Family Christmas

Warnings: I do not own the original content to “The Originals”, “The Vampire Diaries” or “Legacies” or any of the characters from the television shows.

15 plus, displays of Violence, Gore, Torture, M/M, F/M, F/F.

Klaus vamp sped into the dining area of the compound to find Rebekah and Elijah sat the table both looking rather miserable with themselves.

“I’m beginning to think use two are competing for most miserable Mikaelson this year and I have to say I’m rather annoyed your coming for my trophy.” Klaus said to them mockingly. “Things are on the up Marcel and I have called a truce, Hope’s arriving any minute and Hayley’s compelled one of the city’s finest cooks and yet you two have been miserable for days.”

“As long as there’s no daggers in my stockings like that one god awful Christmas I’m sure I’ll get into the festive spirit.” Rebekah replied as she stood up forcing a smile on to her face.

“I must admit even this Christmas still beats that one.” Elijah said as he too stood up and straightened his suit jacket.

“I found it rather amusing,” Klaus retaliated with a cheeky smirk noticing Elijah and Rebekah were hardly feeling festive. “Okay what the bloody hell is going on?”

“You should tell him Rebekah after all this is of your doing.” Elijah snapped at his sister.

“Firstly, none of you would be here if it wasn’t for me so don’t even start blaming me for reuniting us.” Rebekah snapped back.

“Well somebody please tell me before I dig out those bloody daggers for a second Christmas.” Klaus demanded clearly grown tired of his siblings’ secrecy.

“It’s Henrik, he’s alive well he’s a lot more than just alive he’s all kinds of messed up and all he wants for Christmas is to feast on his beloved siblings.” Rebekah revealed before Hope walked into the dining area hugging Hayley.

“Guess whose finally home for Christmas?” Hayley said to them all while hugging her daughter tightly.

“Now how exactly do us Mikaelson’s celebrate Christmas?” Hope asked them while Rebekah and Elijah tried to hide their guilt and her father Klaus remained shocked by her aunt Rebekah’s admission.

Marcel walked into Rousseau's to find Josh wearing a Santa hat while cleaning tables within the bar and listening and dancing along to “I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday” on his Bluetooth speaker placed on the counter of the bar causing Marcel to laugh at possibly the world’s most innocent vampire before walking over to the counter and switching the speaker off demanding Josh’s attention.

“Hello Marcel,” Josh said as he took of his Santa hat and gushed at the man, he had recently spent a night with. “I’m guessing your not here for a drink considering we’re not open although that tends to not stop most of my clientele.”

“I actually wanted to talk about…” Marcel began to say.

“Davina and Kol coming to the city for Christmas I know Davina already told me.” Josh butted in knowing that wasn’t the topic on Marcel’s mind. “I bet you can’t wait to see Davina again I sure can’t.”

“Well it has been a while but that’s not what I came here to discuss.” Marcel replied.

“Is it about the Mikaelson’s getting a head at the table for the faction meetings because I think that’s a good idea if only to lessen the bloodshed.” Josh added in proving to be very eager to not talk about a certain subject.

“Josh you’re not the first guy I’ve ever been with when your immortal sexuality is a lot simpler than people make it out to be.” Marcel explained to him. “We like who we like when we like them and have no need to apologize for it.”

“Wow where was that kind of thinking when I came out to my parents.” Josh answered him clearly surprised by Marcel’s reaction to their one-night stand.

“It was definitely interesting I mean you’re a lot less shy between the sheets,” Marcel said with a sinister smile “definitely unforgettable however I value our friendship too much for it to ever happen again.”

“Oh, thank god,” Josh breathed a sigh of relief. “I mean no offence but us would’ve been super messy I mean you’re clearly still madly and deeply in love with Rebekah and I tried the whole relationship thing once and it ended it too much pain.”

“I’m glad you and I are on the same page.” Marcel laughed. “However, I don’t think you should write off romance with everyone I know what happened to Aiden broke your heart but the moments you had with him were worth every ounce of pain. Trust me when I say love is truly the best and worst thing that can ever happen to you.”

“So, did you get invited to the Mikaelson’s Christmas?” Josh asked. “Davina’s convinced me to go just what I love Santa and Klaus wrapped up into one holiday I just hope it’s not me that ends up roasted on the open fire.”

“Do you know you’re absolutely adorable when you say stuff like that?” Marcel told him while looking at him with pure admiration.

“Oh no don’t you be looking at me like that!” Josh said clearly nervous by Marcel looking at him. “Shouldn’t you be last minute Christmas shopping for Hope and Davina?”

“I’ve already got their presents sorted.” Marcel replied with a laugh finding Josh’s nervousness intoxicating before vamp speeding to be standing right in front of him so close that Josh could feel Marcel breathing on him, the two beginning to long for each other’s touch.

“Well I can’t say I’m surprised to see you working Josh.” Davina said as she walked in instantly making Marcel and Josh distance themselves from each other. “I’m guessing you’re also here Marcel because you’re doing just about anything you could possibly do to avoid seeing Rebekah until necessary.”

“It’s so good to see you,” Marcel said as he walked over to hug the girl he loved like a daughter. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“You got here in perfect timing.” Josh said with a sense of relief in his voice.

Hope and Klaus walk down the stairs in the compound Klaus’ arm lovingly around his daughter as they reach the bottom of the stairs and start making their way to the fountain Hope clearly suspicious of what’s going on with her family knowing when any Mikaelson was quiet it was never a good sign.

“Okay go on dad tell me what’s going on already.” Hope demanded as the two stopped walking and Klaus let go of his daughter. “It’s freaking Christmas our first one together in I don’t know how long certainly the first one I’m going to remember that’s for sure and you’ve all been quiet since arrival. Do you not want me here?”

“There is nobody on this earth I’d rather spend any day with than you Hope.” Klaus replied making it clear to his daughter she was wanted and loved. “I just want you to have the perfect Christmas.”

“Dad I’m fifteen now I’m hardly a kid anymore and even when I was, I went up against the ancestors, unbound aunt Davina from The Hollow and helped Aunt Freya restore Elijah’s mind after his death.” Hope snapped at her father. “I can take care of myself now tell me what’s going on. You’ve spent five years away from me dad don’t come back just to keep me in the dark once again.”

“You are right you’re a Mikaelson after all,” Klaus responded as he lifted his right hand to touch his daughter’s cheek lovingly “one day you are going to become the most powerful witch this world has ever seen. You are everything we ever wanted you to be and so much more Hope, you are this family’s true legacy.”

“Who’s plotting to kill our family now?” Hope asked. “It can’t be The Hollow because she’s gone right?”

“The threat this time is a lot closer to home I’m afraid to say.” Rebekah announced after vamp speeding into the compound.

“Thank god you’re here to explain because to be quite bloody frank I have little clue myself to why our brother is now hungry for our blood.” Klaus told his sister while looking at her furiously.

“So, it turns out this ancient powerful witch brought our youngest brother Henrik back to life and the spell took a toll on him making him a power draining monster he’s already claimed our mother’s spirit.” Rebekah explained before taking a reluctant sigh. “And our eldest brother Finn’s spirit. Finn sacrificed himself so that Bonnie and I could return from the now destroyed ancestral plane.”

“There’s always some pain in the ass witch messing around with our family.” Klaus snapped. “We need to get a hold of Freya and see if there’s some spell or something that can help Henrik.”

“I’ve already called and explained everything to her she should be arriving just in time for Christmas.” Rebekah revealed. “So far there isn’t much she’s found that can help Henrik, but we won’t stop until he’s saved or no longer a threat.”

“This meddling witch you speak of is she the one who removed The Hollow from us all and restored Elijah’s memories?” Klaus asked.

“Yes, he is.” Rebekah answered, “His identity is a whole other story best saved for later.”

“Seems like you’ve been keeping a lot of secrets to yourself Rebekah!” Klaus shouted at Rebekah.

“Don’t you dare come for Aunt Rebekah for doing everything she could to bring us all back if it wasn’t for her none of us would be standing here together.” Hope snapped at her father causing Rebekah to smile at her niece defending her. “We just need to find a way of helping Henrik and getting him back too.”

“You are right.” Klaus mumbled clearly taken aback to be put in his place by his own daughter.

“Bonnie’s also looking into every resource she has to find some sort of solution to this hell and Davina should be due in the city any minute with some possible news.” Rebekah told her brother. “Plus, the witch that created whatever the hell our brother has become is now working alongside Elijah for some reason he will not reveal to me. Even though I was the witch’s alliance at first, but I guess pompous men like to stick together.”

“Can this witch that Elijah is working with be trusted?” Hope asked her aunt.

“Absolutely not.” Rebekah replied.

Elijah walked into St Anne’s Church to see many people gathered while Hayley, Marcel and Bonnie gathering many of the New Orleans together handing out Christmas style hampers causing Elijah to smile seeing Hayley being so kind.

“Elijah what are you doing here?” Hayley asked him after vamp speeding over to him.

“Nothing’s wrong I just wanted to see you.” Elijah said with a soft smile.

“That bad then,” Hayley scoffed. “I thought it would only be a matter of time. Go on tell me what Klaus has done now?”

“Actually, it’s my youngest brother who has created the chaos our family now finds ourselves in.” Elijah replied.

“Marcel said he saw Davina what possibly could Kol have done already?” Hayley asked wondering what Kol had done now.

“Actually, the blame falls on my youngest brother Henrik it appears he’s not as dead as we were once led to believe and now, he seems to be some kind of magical battery determined on killing us all.” Elijah explained to her. “But I don’t want you to be alarmed because I’ve already got things in hand well as in hand as possible.”

“You’ve just told me your long-lost brother Henrik is out to kill the lot of you which last time I checked meant Hope too and I’m not to worry.” Hayley snapped. “How can he possibly be alive?”

“You guys are around vampires we can hear everything.” Marcel told them after vamp speeding over to them.

“He was brought back to life by a powerful witch which practices some long-forgotten magic called Malus.” Elijah revealed to Hayley.

“The witch in question also happens to be Klaus’ first love but nobody has told him that yet I’m assuming.” Marcel butted in shocking Hayley with his admission.

“Hold up I thought Aurora was Klaus’ first love?” Hayley asked them both.

“Well Bonnie told me that Rebekah told her this Nathaniel guy was Klaus’ first love back in their human days so I guess Aurora was Klaus’ first love after no longer being human.” Marcel responded in a gossipy tone.

“But that would mean this witch is like a thousand years old.” Hayley said clearly intrigued by recent news.

“We’re deciding not to tell Klaus about Nathaniel until after Christmas Henrik being alive and wanting to murder us is enough bad news for one Christmas.” Elijah revealed while rolling his eyes.

“Makes sense Klaus has never been one to take bad news well.” Hayley replied. “Can we trust this Nathaniel not to screw us all over?”

“Absolutely not.” Bonnie stated as she walked over to the three of them.

Nathaniel sat on a rocking chair swinging back and forward outside of a small decaying cabin in the woods of Helton when Henrik appeared in front of him a puff of black smoke his eyes still jet black and looking rather angry with his long-time friend.

“You left me trapped for what felt like forever am I supposed to believe you only found a way recently to free me from my cage.” Henrik said as Nathaniel stood up from his chair.

“I admit I could’ve got you out sooner but if I did it would’ve have been for anyone’s good except your own. I needed it to be now Henrik because now is the perfect timing to end my father’s miserable existence and save you.” Nathaniel replied.

“I don’t need saving I’m perfectly fine as I am or at least I am now that you’ve finally seen fit to release me.” Henrik snapped.

“Don’t you dare take that tone with me if it wasn’t for me you would’ve been nothing, but a corpse long rotted away into nothing but bones in the dirt. I made you the powerful witch you are today and never forget that.” Nathaniel snapped back at him. “Everything I have done is to protect you and save you from yourself from following a similar fate as my father or soon to be me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Henrik asked with genuine concern as his eyes went back to their normal color.

“The details of my plan are not important Henrik just trust in me to have your best interests in mind like I always have done.” Nathaniel replied before walking over and hugging Henrik. “I’m glad I’ve got you home for Christmas let’s not spend it fighting.”

“I’ve never understood your fascination with Christmas.” Henrik scoffed while breaking off the hug. “It’s not particularly like either of us are very family orientated.”

“You are my family,” Nathaniel told him as he placed his hand on Henrik’s shoulder “you may not be my blood but from the moment I brought you back to life, raised you, cleaned up your endless slaughters you have been my son. Always and Forever.”

“Always and Forever.” Henrik smiled before looking at the cabin. “Why do you always come back to this place?”

“Because it’s the only place that has ever been a home to us.” Nathaniel revealed. “It’s exactly where all of this should end.”

“I guess we should find something to cook for dinner then.” Henrik replied while looking around the woods. “I saw a cafe about 40 miles back we could always go there for Christmas dinner.”

“I’d like that very much.” Nathaniel said with a soft smile clearly beyond happy to be reunited with the man who he considered a son.

Klaus found himself sitting on the edge of his bed in his bedroom at the compound staring into thin air as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that his youngest brother Henrik, the brother whose death he blamed himself for was resurrected by some powerful ancient magic the same type of magic which had somehow removed the Hollow from Klaus, Rebekah, Elijah and Kol.

He had never heard of magic powerful enough to do these things and yet somehow it was all possible in that moment as he struggled with flashbacks of his youngest sibling’s death he wished for his oldest sibling Freya to be there to explain the unexplained knowing that if anyone could explain Malus to him it would be her.

“I’m sorry Niklaus all I wanted was for my family to be reunited.” Rebekah apologised after vamp speeding into his room and taking a seat next to her brother. “The truth is after centuries of craving freedom the last five years without all of you were the most miserable of my life. I got you Elijah and Kol back and for that I’m not sorry I just wish I understood what that cost would be.”

“So, Henrik is labelled some kind of monster that’s what we’ve all been called our entire lives we will find a way to help him somehow.” Klaus replied while placing his arm around Rebekah.

“The Malus witch’s master plan includes saving Henrik’s soul so speak.” Elijah revealed after he too vamp sped into the room and took a seat next to Klaus and Rebekah. “Sure, we have to help this Malus witch kill their father but we happen to have an expertise in killing parents sure usually our own.”

“Who is this witch? Why is he so interested in Henrik’s well-being?” Klaus asked as he stood up form his bed looking down his brother and sister. “Clearly he must be somebody of importance if you haven’t told me their identity yet and clearly, we have history with him if Rebekah trusted him to remove The Hollow.”

“Trust is a strong word Niklaus it was more desperation than anything else.” Rebekah revealed as Hayley suddenly vamp sped into Klaus’ bedroom.

“It’s Nathaniel some guy who was neighbours with you all when you were humans.” Hayley admitted much to Rebekah and Elijah’s shock. “Don’t blame your siblings for not telling you they just feared your reaction whereas I genuinely think if we’re ever going to tell you something like this it’s best to have Hope within close proximity so you don’t overreact and dagger everybody.”

“We were going to tell him after today.” Elijah said giving Hayley a disapproving look as he and Rebekah rose to their feet.

“That makes sense Nathaniel was just a mortal who fled our village before we even turned even if he somehow became a witch, he’d of had no clue about Henrik.” Klaus replied as he struggled to understand what Hayley had just said.

“Actually, he didn’t leave as early as planned and when he heard of word came back for Ayana, she was always like a mother to him there was no way he’d ever leave her with a choice.” Rebekah revealed reluctantly. “Kol killed Ayana and I managed to fight him off Nathaniel, but the blood lust was so new, and I couldn’t restrain myself.”

“You fed on him?” Klaus asked her with a look of disgust in his face as tears began forming in his eyes.

“I wish I never, but control was something that took us all too long to learn.” Rebekah answered her brother. “For some unexplained reason he didn’t die, and I guess that’s when he went down this path of discovery into Malus magic.”

“Malus witches feed on the magic of others especially the darker magics which provides them immortality of sorts and incredible power the reason he didn’t die at Rebekah’s hands is because only a Malus can kill another Malus.” Elijah explained to Klaus who continued to remain painfully silent.

“We’re not sure whether we can trust him or not which may mean he’ll have to be killed somehow.” Hayley said to Klaus.

“Enough!” Klaus snapped before forcing a smile on his face. “Hope is downstairs preparing for a Mikaelson family and that is what she is going to get.”

Nathaniel Malin was a Malus witch by birth but not by nature despite a thousand years of darkness there was still light within him and he had never fully succumbed to the darkness even at times when it would’ve been easier for him if he did. He fought the darkness as he mourned the other mother he knew, he fought the darkness as he spent centuries on the run from his own father and he tried his hardest to help Henrik fight the darkness he had accidentally inflected on him however Henrik may not of been a Malus witch by birth but he certainly was one by nature.

Nathaniel and Henrik had found themselves sitting within a booth in a cafe as Nathaniel watched Henrik tuck into a roast dinner with blood on his hands as Nathaniel look at him with disapproval in his eyes before looking around to see lifeless bodies all around the rundown cafe painted with the blood of Henrik’s victims.

“Less of the judgement Nathaniel.” Henrik told him as he continued to eat his roast dinner. “You know I’ve never been one for an audience while eating.”

“I know but killing them all was hardly necessarily.” Nathaniel replied with a sigh. “I fear for your humanity sometimes Henrik.”

“You’ve killed as much people as I have Nathaniel maybe you should worry about your own.” Henrik responded while continuing to eat.

“I kill for survival for power I kill because sacrifices need to be made to keep us both alive, but I never get off on the kill.” Nathaniel told him. “Sometimes I believe you enjoy it a little too much.”

“We’ve been killing for centuries Nathaniel and I’ve seen you in action you enjoy it just as much as I do but you fight it because you want to hold on to whatever humanity you claim to still have.” Henrik explained to him as he stopped eating. “Your Malus blood is the only reason why we are both alive and yet you continue to despite it.”

“I know you were younger when all this happened to you, but I spent an entire life as a human or an entire life believing I was human.” Nathaniel said. “I was a good person and I have no illusion that there’s good left inside of me, but I won’t freely dance in the darkness as of it’s anything other than sentence.”

“You never change,” Henrik laughed. “Very well I promise to not kill anybody else for the entirety of the day consider it your Christmas gift.”

“Thank you.” Nathaniel replied with a sigh of relief.

“Now please tell my why after all this time you continue to defy me killing my siblings?” Henrik asked him.

“Because their your family and unlike your parents they have done nothing but love you.” Nathaniel warned him. “Killing anymore siblings would be the point of no return and don’t even get me started on how furious I am with you over what happened to Finn.”

“You are my family!” Henrik shouted as he stood up. “I barely even remember them all they are to me is power ready to be drained. You’re my family not them.”

“I will not be spoken to like that killing the Mikaelson’s is not on our agenda.” Nathaniel snapped back as he stood up.

“If we got rid of them, we’d have more than enough power to get rid of Augustus.” Henrik told him clearly furious by Nathaniel’s demands.

“Then we lose everything!” Nathaniel shouted raising his voice higher.

“Everything is already lost Nathaniel you’re just stuck in a past where you meant something to them.” Henrik said with a harsh tone. “They would kill you without pause and you allow their existence because of feelings you should’ve been over centuries ago.”

“Killing them isn’t a part of the plan and would only derail things as for my supposed feelings they are in the past and I am not.” Nathaniel stated trying to convince both himself and Henrik.

Klaus, Hope, Rebekah, Elijah and Hayley are stood within the compound watching the bonfire in front of them burn only to be shocked to see Freya walk into the compound hand in hand with Keelin and immediate attention turns to Freya who’s very clearly pregnant at least five months by the size of the bump leaving everyone shocked as nobody knew anything about this pregnancy.

“I guess there’s a new Mikaelson on the way.” Hayley said with a smile before going over to hug Freya and Keelin. “Congratulations guys.”

“Well I guess I’m not the only Mikaelson sister keeping secrets from the family.” Rebekah joked before going over to hug Freya. “You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“I’ve got to say I’m shocked that you kept this from us Freya.” Elijah said to his older sister as he too gave her a hug.

“I never thought I’d ever be with child again after everything that happened to me and I never thought I’d ever love again but I’m glad I was wrong.” Freya revealed as she held on to her fiancé Keelin’s hand.

“Well we all know you’ve been saving us or kicking or asses when needed for long enough it’s about time some child has to suffer you instead of your siblings.” Klaus said with a laugh before hugging both Freya and Keelin.

“I guess this means I’m going to have a little cousin.” Hope said before being the last Mikaelson to walk over and hug Freya.

“I was going to tell you all once we had defeated The Hollow but then Nathaniel Malin became the latest threat knocking our family’s doors.” Freya explained herself. “I’ve only met the witch once or twice over the years and he’s not one to be messed with however he’s nothing compared to his father that man is wicked enough to claim aunt Dahlia’s admiration.”

“Let’s not concern ourselves with our enemies tonight.” Klaus told his older sister while pulling in Rebekah and Hope in each arm for a hug. “The entire family is here and tonight we celebrate tomorrow we’ll discuss our battle plans.”

“I guess that means it’s time to dine and fill the humans with enough drink to pass out.” Kol said as he and Davina opened the dining are doors to reveal a table filled with a full Christmas feast with a delicious turkey on the table.

“I’m sure us witches will put some of you vampires to shame.” Davina replied to her husband with a smile.

“I’m not late, am I?” Marcel asked as he vamp sped into the compound.

“You’re just on time.” Klaus responded with a smile as Hope walked over to Marcel and gave him a hug.

“While you’re in such a good mood Klaus did, I happen to mention I’ve invited Bonnie to dinner too?” Rebekah told her brother only to laugh when he rolled his eyes.

“I hope I’m still invited.” Josh said as he too vamp sped into the compound before looking at the bonfire making him terrified. “Oh, crikey there’s a big fire.”

“Everyone is invited,” Klaus said with a smile that made Josh uneasy as he put his arm around him and gave him a hug surprising everyone there. “That smell is oddly familiar.”

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thanksjro · 4 years

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The Mystery of the Transformer Decoys, Parts 7-9: None Of This Would Be Happening If You Had Just Showered Beforehand

Part 7 sees us going back to Charles Ellis, and we’re greeted with the sight of Nightbeat with a gun to his head. This ain’t his first rodeo though, which he demonstrates by kicking the gunman in the shin, breaking a couple of his fingers, taking the gun, and running for it. He bolts for the room where he’d left Getaway and Chromedome, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

The POV shifts, and we get a look at what Triton’s up to.

Triton is a bit of an obscure one. If you know about him, it’s probably through Last Stand of the Wreckers, as one of the members of Squadron X Impactor just super-duper murdered. Before that, his only real role in… anything, really, was being a double agent in the Autobots, sowing discord in the ranks and then promptly dying.

But what’s he doing here? Yelling at Wingspan over the phone for his misuse of the Decoys. He’s putting this whole operation, not to mention Triton’s cover, in jeopardy with his flippant utilization of faction property, especially since the things aren’t even completely functional yet.

Back with Nightbeat, he’s found the note that Getaway left him. Turns out Getaway really does live up to his name; both he and Chromedome made a run for it after they realized that the Decoys were here at the Institute, and had stuffed a memory wipe program into their heads to make sure they wouldn’t be traced back to the situation if they ended up being caught by anyone involved. That’s great for them, but not so much for Nightbeat, who still needs to get out before the Decoys get in.

And, uh, murder him and stuff.

He’s more or less figured out that this is Wingspan’s doing, so now it’s just a matter of catching the guy and bringing him to justice. Because Nightbeat’s horny for truth and justice.

He gets out pretty easily, sneaking through the back door while the Decoys are busy murdering innocents. He gets back to his place, takes some notes on what all’s happened, takes a nap, wakes up, then gets a call on his landline.

It’s Scrounge. Turns out getting on the bad side of a crime lord isn’t so hot an idea, because there’s a huge bounty on Nightbeat’s head. He should probably get out of town.

Then the power goes out. And the front door opens.

Part 8, written by Richard Ahern, sees us in the far-flung year of 2016. It should be noted that the main story takes place 4 million years in the past, before the Ark crash. In 2016, two Autobot detectives walk the streets- Nightbeat and a guy named Flashform. So I guess any sort of worry for Nightbeat’s safety for the next few pages is completely unwarranted, seeing as he’s alive here. Fastform seems to be an original character of Charles Ellis’.

Fastform isn’t a fan of Iacon. Nightbeat starts schooling him on infrastructure, but is interrupted by something rustling around in the garbage. Nightbeat draws his gun, only to be faced with a harmless turbofox. They both feel pretty silly about being scared by such a simple creature, though I’d say Nightbeat has something of an excuse considering that a few tried to kill him.

He starts in on the story we’re currently reading, regaling Fastform with the tale up to the point where we’d left off. Then Fastform asks what happened next.

I’m not exactly sure why this little aside needed to happen. We’d just gotten a recap two parts ago, and it’s not like this story is horribly long.

Back at the plot, we find out who opened the door and scared the bejesus out of Nightbeat. It’s a tiny little fella, and he says that Nightbeat should probably do a sweep of the place before they talk. Nightbeat is, of course, somewhat wary of this newcomer- it’s been kind of a crazy day. The guy tosses Nightbeat a sweeper, they check for any bugging, then the little guy turns on the lights.

In his feet.

It’s Bumblebee.

Bumblebee’s also had kind of a rough day.

Our new friend here wants to make a “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” deal; if Nightbeat solves this case, Bumblebee will make sure those hits on him disappear. Nightbeat, agrees, after making Bumblebee sweat it out waiting for his answer. He tells him to have the lights out at Wingspan’s place in four hours. Bumblebee warns him to be careful around Wingspan, because there’s something off about him, then leaves.

Two hours later, Nightbeat’s night has not improved in the slightest- he’s been shot at multiple times, only just managed to call the Security Forces to let them know things are about to go down, and his car’s been completely torched. Now he’s going to have to make it to Wingspan’s place on foot. A guy pops into Nightbeat’s sights and he immediately shoots him, having had just about enough with people trying to kill him.

He makes it to the edge of town with time to spare, entering the warehouse district. After waiting for the allotted time, he sneaks past the guards towards Wingspan’s place, just in time for the lights to cut out. He moves in.

After climbing up the wall onto the roof, Nightbeat breaks in and makes his down to Wingspan’s office. The moment he steps inside, Wingspan appears behind him and attacks. Nightbeat pulls out his gun and fires, but being shot doesn’t do much in the way of stopping a robot puma from using gravity as a weapon. Clearly, this isn’t Wingspan but Pounce who’s just had a go at Nightbeat and is currently dying, but he doesn’t know that. Instead he’s just confused.

There’s no time to investigate that mystery however, because the lights have just come back on. Nightbeat quickly downloads everything he can from the office computer then makes his escape.

Wingspan, who’s in just a horrendous mood, walks into the office shortly after, finding a very dead Pounce. This does not lift his spirits in the slightest. Neither does finding his chain of turbofox skulls has been pilfered. He calls for the guards to break out the Decoys and search for Nightbeat, knowing that only he could have done such a thing.

Smash cut to Nightbeat being chased by Decoys, looking for a payphone to call Security Forces.

Wingspan is fidgeting with the one magic skull he kept on his person- and insurance policy, he says- as he considers what to do next. He seems to decide to cut his losses here, as he blasts his computer into cinders and then prepares to cremate Pounce.

Nightbeat’s in a bad way, having only his lone, crappy civilian gun to face off against several pretty-accurate copies of war-ready robots.

Part 9, also written by Ahern, continues the scene, as the Decoys jump Nightbeat and proceed to thoroughly kick his ass. Trailbreaker manages to snag the skull necklace from around his neck, which make Nightbeat panic and try to fight back harder. The Decoys respond in kind, and he promptly passes out.

While Nightbeat’s taking his third nap in 24 hours, the Decoys begin fighting over the skulls, as each time one of the Decoys comes into contact with one, they get a taste of actual life. The Trailbreaker Decoy manages to scoop up a good handful of the things and runs for it.

This does not end well for the Trailbreaker Decoy. It doesn’t end well for anyone, really.

Meanwhile, over with Triton, we’re watching the news. The media’s already gotten in on the story with the Decoys exploding and fighting each other, not to mention the supposed assassination of Wingspan, beloved Autobot and friend to all god’s creatures. Triton decides it’s time for a holiday and starts packing his bags.

Then Nightbeat wakes up.

But is he still alive? The world may never know.

Nightbeat, ever the professional, immediately hands over the skulls and starts explaining what a fucking crazy couple of days he’s had. He then asks if the blown up bodies Security Forces had come across had been holding any of the skulls. Downshift says that they weren’t, which leads Nightbeat to believe that Wingspan isn’t actually dead.

Two days later- and by this point I’m really fucking hoping Nightbeat’s had a shower because it’s been ages and I’m starting to get concerned- Nightbeat and Downshift are visiting the morgue. They weren’t able to identify Pounce’s body; well, they were, but he only shows up as Wingspan, which we know is wholly incorrect.

But Downshift didn’t just bring Nightbeat down to stare at a dead cat.

Whoa, TMI, dude.

Downshift doesn’t really get why Wingspan would bother with the Decoy stuff if he already has a clone brother. Nightbeat theorizes that it may have something to do with the Decepticons wanting the ultimate double agent- someone who truly believes that they are who their cover says they are.

What is even- what.

Oh my god, he’s real.

Oh my god, he’s got a non-stub article.

Oh my god, he’s fucking precious.

Two years later, we catch up with Wingspan, who’s found himself in a Decepticon camp. He’s here to kill Triton, and he’s got the a-ok from Soundwave to do it.

This is company-sanctioned murder.

He enters Triton’s tent and the threats start. Wingspan’s feeling pretty miffed about Triton having pulled all his funds after the arson, but he figures strangling him to death will make things about even. Then Pounce shows up. Even though he’s dead. And the Security Forces had his body.

Look, don’t think about it too hard, the story’s nearly over. Just remember that Wingspan still had that skull with him when everything went to shit.

In the future, Nightbeat still hasn’t finished telling the story since Fastform asked. He decides its a little too creepy, seeing as they’re already spooked, so they move on to a lighter topic.

Meanwhile, that turbofox that scared the bejesus out of them? Turns out that’s Triton.

…You know, out of all the things I could have run into with this story, fucking DOMESTICATION wasn’t even on the goddamned list. What a dark, disturbingly removed end to this little tale.

That’s not the end of the ‘zine, though. We’ve got a few comic strips.

They’re all about this level of Sunday-funnies humor.

This was alright. I don’t know why Soundwave was cool with that fucking nightmare at the end, but maybe Triton ate his sack lunch out of the break room fridge or something. All in all, I think Roberts’ section grabbed me the most, which I was sort of expecting.

I dunno. I guess I’ve been spoiled up to this point by solidly constructed plotting and storytelling and went into this expecting too much. C’est la vie. At least everyone seemed to have fun. That’s important.

But I think the most important thing to glean from this whole experience is that I would stone-cold kill a man for Bumblejumper. Yeah, I know he’s 15-feet tall and made of steel. That changes literally nothing. And yeah, I know the whole “was it Bumblebee or Bumblejumper” thing doesn’t make any sense. That also changes literally nothing.

I now truly understand the term “he’s babey.”

Up next, it’s back to the Roberts solo act, as we take a look at the Polyhex Wars.

#transformers #mystery of the transformer decoys #part seven #part eight #part nine #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #prose writing #zine

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nevermindthewind · 5 years

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for every kiss you give me, i’ll give you three

an ode to jake’s pink shirt, inspired by me and @fourdrinkamy‘s post 6x01 ramblings. slightly nsfw but also it’s me so not really.

Until today, Amy truly thought she and Jake had the most comfortable mattress in the world. But now, sprawled out on this gorgeous king sized bed that’s just soft enough to feel like what she imagines clouds would feel like, she’s beginning to think their beloved bed might have some competition.

The only downside is that neither her or Jake ever wants to leave said bed.

To be fair, for the majority of the day, they didn’t. Once they politely said goodbye to Holt and practically ran to their room, both her and Jake’s clothes were off and they found out just how comfy their bed was. It was only after they’d checked off over six items in the honeymoon binder that Amy realized they needed to get ready for dinner. So, despite many protests from Jake and several very tempting offers for more sexy timez, they’d finally both gotten out of the dream bed and started getting ready. Amy got first shower (Unfortunately no shower sex -- it’s only the first day and they really don’t want to risk starting their honeymoon off with any broken bones) so now here she is, half ready and doing a Sudoku puzzle while Jake sings to himself as he gets ready for dinner. On their honeymoon. In freaking Mexico.

God, this must be what heaven feels like.

After a few minutes she finishes the puzzle and turns to double check the time. They may be on vacation but they do have a reservation to keep. That’s when she sees it.

“OH MY GOD, JAKE!”

Amy jumps up and races to the bathroom where Jake is -- well, was -- in the middle of buttoning up his shirt. At the sound of her seemingly distressed voice Jake freezes, looking up in the mirror to see what all the commotion was about. To be fair, they’d already discovered their boss was staying in the same resort as them. She can’t blame him for being on edge.

“What?!” he calls, wary. Amy grins in response.

“The mini bar is INCLUDED in the price of the room! Something about being referred by a friend. Thanks to referral code GINA30, we can have all the orange soda and champagne and snacks we --” She cuts herself off, but her mouth remains open as she takes in Jake’s current state: wet curls, a half open pink button down, and boxer briefs that are the perfect amount of revealing. And of course, the coup de grâce, the new silver band on his fourth finger.

Holy fuck, her husband’s attractive.

Jake looks into the mirror, his eyes going from confused to amused in seconds.

“Yes?” he teases.

Amy can actually feel the saliva evaporate in her mouth. “I...I’ve never seen that shirt before.”

“That’s because I bought it just for this trip,” he says proudly. “I figured if we’re going somewhere tropical I should dress the part, ya know? You like it?”

To answer his question Amy practically leaps across the bathroom and wraps her arms around his chest, moving to fasten the rest of the buttons. “You should wear pastels more often,” she muses, resting her chin on his shoulder and looking up at him in the mirror.

Jake arches an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Mhm.” She gives him a tiny smirk before planting a kiss on his shoulder. “It suits you.” Another kiss. “A lot.” And another, still not breaking eye contact. She can see the moment his pupils dilate.

“Well, I will have to keep that in mind.” Jake grins back at her reflection before turning around and facing her properly, his hands now bracing themselves on her hips as he takes in her own outfit, a deep blue floral dress with just enough cleavage to drive him crazy. Her makeup isn’t done yet and she hasn’t decided what necklace to wear, but with the way Jake’s looking at her she might as well be Helen of freaking Troy. It’s intoxicating in the absolute best way. “You look stunning, by the way,” he adds.

“Thanks, babe,” she murmurs before closing the gap between them and finally kissing his lips. Jake leans into the kiss, snaking his hands from her waist around to her ass.

“Have I mentioned I love your butt?” he asks as they break apart. Amy cocks her head.

“You know I think you have, but feel free to tell me again just in case.”

He gives said butt a gentle squeeze, causing Amy to let out the tiniest squeal. Jake just smirks in response. “I, like, really love your butt.”

“I, like, really love yours, too,” she says before kissing him again, deeper this time.

“Mmmph,” he murmurs, pulling her closer. He turns them around so he can hoist Amy onto the counter. Once settled on the counter Amy wraps her arms around his neck and her legs around his thighs, using her calves to remove any space between them. Instantly she loses herself in Jake, letting instinct take over until all she can think about is how glad she is she’s wearing a dress right now.

For possibly -- no, definitely the first time ever, it’s Jake who brings up the time when they come up for air.

“We have reservations in ten minutes,” he mutters. And for the for the first time, it’s Amy who throws caution to the wind. Because when you’re wrapped up with the love of your life in the most beautiful bathroom in the world, which is in the most beautiful resort in the world, it’s hard to really worry about anything. So rather than panic, Amy simply shrugs and wraps one of Jake’s stray curls around her finger.

“What’s a few minutes, huh?”

(In reality it was more like fifteen minutes, but it was definitely, definitely worth it.)

#happy honeymoon my loves!!!!#peraltiago fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #my writing #fic

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hisgirlwonder · 5 years

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Heart-Shaped Glasses cont. (Duncan Shepherd x Reader)

Length: 2.5K words Warning: Smut – daddy kink, age play/regression, food play, face fucking, “forced” orgasms, use of sex toys, degrading, that kind of thing. Synopsis: Summer days are for laying around, soaking in the pool, and drinking pink lemonade to cool down (but the sun isn’t the only thing that’s hot in this household.) Notes: I wanted to have this out a few days ago but things happened in my outside-Tumblr-life and I wasn’t able to. Please read my warnings and don’t click the button below if any of that offends you. Here on this blog we write for almost all kinks and are very open so expect some things you may not like. Oh and SORRYYYY if you feel like you have a sore throat after reading this, I enjoyed writing the nasty scenes and I hope you enjoy reading them :’) first part is here for my angels who haven’t read it.

“Well, do you?”

You say nothing, do nothing, except continue to suck on the popsicle Duncan gave you innocently. Your chilled lips stay shut with barely an inch of space around the frozen treat; bait for his frustration. Duncan wants a response and as the saying goes what Daddy wants, Daddy gets so when he sticks a hand out, palm faced up, you oblige without hesitation in handing over what you were eating.

Duncan thinks two can play at that game to himself and copies you, remaining silent. He drags the melting popsicle over your skin; along the curve of your neck, down your chest, and all over your nipples hiding behind the fabric of your swimsuit. Patches of red appeared and would probably stain but you were preoccupied with other things such as the thought of how it was so fucking hot when Duncan dirtied you up.

The feeling of his warm, wet tongue lapping up the sickly sweet remnants on your throat birthed goosebumps on your skin. Duncan traces a number of sticky paths over your flesh with his teeth and tongue; alternating between small licks with its tip and nibbles with those pearly whites. He brings the popsicle to your own mouth and sliding it in and out lewdly in a display of dominance and his other hand is undoing the bow around your neck.

Duncan tugs your swimsuit down and exposes your bosom in all its glory. He then follows this up by removing the popsicle slowly and allows it to drip down your chin. Duncan’s hands are turning into a mess too but he’s concentrating on your facial expressions while running the icy pole over your nipples; awakening them from their slumber and causing them to harden.

The icy treat breaks off the stick, probably from the heat of the day and also the heat between the two of you, and falls in your lap. Duncan has that look in his eyes; the one that appears before he’s about to do something mischievous. He’s a grown man but still easy to read like he’s thrown back in time and an oversexed teenager with a skull full to the brim of covetous and impure thoughts appears before you. He picks the melting treat off your lap and smashes it into your chest. You flinch from the sudden drop in temperature.

Duncan’s mouth takes a beeline dive to its favourite place, your nipples, and tries to clean up the mess he’s made. You interrupt him to slide out of the article of clothing that’s resting around your waist and has all of a sudden become pointless, throwing it to the side once it’s off without a care.

You slither around Duncan and into the pool. He soon follows suit by stripping off and jumping in. He swims over to where you are and you provoke him, fighting to break away from his reach but he overpowers you and wins. Duncan pushes you into the wall of the pool with his lower half; his erection pressing into your ass. “Now Daddy really has a problem,” he growls.

You act out imprudently and Duncan knows he could stop you but doesn’t, leaving you to escape the pool. As you’re swimming away, he stretches out an arm to grab your ankle but the fingertips of his hand only just grace the bottom of your soles.

“What are you doing all the way over there, princess?”

You look away and cross your arms over your chest, bringing them down as you begin to huff like a schoolgirl not getting what she wants. Duncan swims over and plants himself next to you. His sights are locked onto you in fascination watching the movements you can’t restrict so easily; the rise and fall of your upper body with each inhale and exhale, the way those crossed arms moved with your chest when you’d breathe, and the subtle, delicate movements of your lashes when you blinked.

He strokes your cheek and your eyes shut but still facing away from him so he couldn’t see the grin that was trying to emerge. That same hand drifts down to touch your chest, palming one of your swollen tits entirely. His strong, slender digits’ hone in on your nipples to play with them; something you couldn’t resist.

“Daddy just needs your mouth, baby girl. Look what you’ve done to him.”

“Is that so?” you drily remark. Duncan loved your smart mouth but he loved putting you in your place even more. He squeezes, tugs, and rolls your nipples around in between his fingertips causing pain to shoot through them.

“Ouch, you’re hurting me,” you cry out, pretending that you were in the kind of pain you didn’t enjoy. Duncan always knew when you were pretending because you apparently had signs you gave off; that or he played with you more than enough times to know when you really were hurt.

“Daddy has to show his baby girl who’s boss.” he reminds you in a tone that’s almost a taunt.

Duncan drops the assault with his hand and instead stands up out of the water. Your eyes are on his crotch and you've been made all too aware of just how badly he needs your mouth. He wraps a hand around the shaft and presses it to break through the crack in between your lips. Once he’s in, he starts off slow but the celerity soon picks up with each movement.

The physicality of how much of a tease you’ve been this afternoon hits and he doesn’t restrain himself. Duncan’s dominant hand finds the back of your head to slams the aching cock deep in your mouth repeatedly. The other one meets the hand already helping enforce the penance and by now your mouth is well and truly fucked; spit leaking everywhere and tears glazing your eyes.

He holds you in place, restricting your ability to breathe, and you’re starting to choke on his thick phallus. You’d try and push off but you know he’d overpower you and it didn’t even matter because moments like these are ones you’d happily die in.

A look of being drunk on your submissiveness and the power you’ve given him hits his face. You smack on his thighs as if to say I can’t breathe and Duncan yanks you back with a fist full of hair. In this moment Duncan begins to wonder how tear stained he can make your cheeks.

You gasp and begin trying to fill your lungs with as much oxygen as you’re able to but he thinks he hasn’t had enough and repeats the violent action three more times before deciding you’ve had enough and lets you go. Your body slumps forward in exhaustion but it’s very brief before the high of what just happened kicks in. You want more. An innocent voice breaks free from your beaten throat and says, playing, “There’s a feeling and I ‘unno what it is, Daddy.”

That was a flat out lie because you knew exactly what it was. It was a burning desire swirling between your legs, aching over your need for him to use you.

“I have an idea,” Duncan tells you, putting out his hand for you to grab onto. He assists in helping you step up and once you’re on your feet, squats down and signals for you to jump on his back.

“So soft,” you giggle as he’s towel drying your skin. Once satisfied he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist with your feet locking together. Your cheek leans on Duncan’s shoulder and you query him as to what’s happening. He replies while walking to the playroom, “We’re going to play that fun game, the one you love so much.”

He lays you gently on the bed and grabs one of the soft toys strewn over the bed to hold it out and asking you to tell your beloved teddy where the feeling is. You point between your legs and Duncan winks to the admission. He grinds the stuffed animal against your bud which leads to you moaning in excitement and writhing around.

Duncan mocks you with things like looks like you’re enjoying that, you’re a dirty girl, and I should punish you for doing bad things to your toys before he hands it to you in a hint that you’ll need it.

For a second you aren’t feeling anything and you can’t see Duncan but that soon changes when his breath hits your slit and his tongue licks it clean. You try to thrust your hips into his face but he swiftly moves to hold them down and instructs you not to be so eager. The mouth that was mocking you ravages your needy cunt like it was starved and you were the last morsel of food it was going to taste. You sink your teeth into the toy you’re holding because it just feels so good.

Maybe Duncan was a deity that you were actually worshipping when oh my god would come out of your mouth in moments like these and perhaps your jokes about him being God were more literal than a figure of speech.

Your eyes close as you bask in the pleasure he's bringing to your body. It grows, and grows, and grows until you’re almost tipped over the edge. The climax you’re waiting for is nearly within your own reach but he stops. Your lids recede and you’re brought back to the present moment. You sharply exhale and glare at him in a way that was saying why did you stop but he gave you a one back that said don’t be so demanding because I haven’t finished yet.

Duncan pushes his cunt-hungry cock between your folds and slips inside without any effort required; you’re sopping wet from a mix of his saliva and your own lust. As he does his fingertips dance over your bud to beckons you over the edge, into the climax you so desperately desired. He didn’t dare move once he was in - he wanted to feel it all; the contracting of your muscles, the release, your jerks from the fulfilment of physical gratification.

With you right where he wants you he breaks the stationary position and slowly thrusts while thumbing at your clit – the post-orgasm stimulation to such a sensitive place forces a whimper in a mix of agony and arousal to escape. You try to shut your legs and wail it’s too much while giggling. Duncan holds them apart and looks at you with slightly narrowed eyes, growling, “Somehow I don’t think that’s true. You know you’ve been a bad girl and now you have to pay.”

He flips you over so effortlessly that he could have done it with one finger and drives himself back inside you, grunting as it glides in. Your back arches and you push back. He responds by asking how bad you want to make it up to daddy. You whine so baaaaad and by now he’d usually be retaliating but today he doesn’t and reaches over for your wand off the nightstand.

Duncan in the bedroom at times was a completely different person. Like, for example, right now he was saying obscene things about you while he fucked you and you love it. In the height of his endearing yet degrading you’re a little slut who loves her Daddy so much she’d do anything for him he switches the toy on and holds it against your clit – you squirm around because it’s almost unbearable but it feels so good and Duncan gets a kick out of it. He continues to fuck you and you orgasm two more times, each stronger than the last.

By his moaning you know he’s getting closer to his own climax and wants you to reach your peak once more so he turns the vibrations up even higher than it was. You cry out Daddyyyyyy while wiggling around beneath him on your knees and you orgasm harder than you previously had. Duncan notices just how much of your wetness is over his cock, the insides of your thighs, and his legs. He throws your wand to the side and hooks hands around your hips to pull you in close and fuck you mercilessly.

It isn’t long before he comes completely undone and filling you entirely while making heavy, guttural noises. He rolls off of you lays beside you. The bed now held two sweaty, spit-covered, cum-soaked, fucked-to-exhaustion, bodies - both of which were extremely happy.

Taglist: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sensitivethot @sacredlangdon @langdonsdemon @sammythankyou @taintedaffairs @queencocoakimmie @violett124 @1-800-bitchcraft

Also, adding in these ones who reblogged/commented on the first part and I can tag: @moltenskeleton @horrorr-hoee @langdons-little-girl @thedeviltohisangel @bbyduncan @fangirlbang @dramapenguinthe3rd @plsfuckmelangdon @michael-langdon-owns-my-soul

#hoc smut #house of cards smut #duncan shepherd smut #hoc fanfic #house of cards fanfic #duncan shepherd fanfic #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shephered x you #duncan shepherd x yn #daddy!duncan #dom!duncan #writing #fanfic #house of cards #hoc #duncan shepherd #hopefully this doesn't suck because i've been all over the place

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