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#fly on to the last drop of blood
supercutszns · 3 months
Note
Hi!! Just had to drop in and say I LOVED your Luke fic and I can’t wait for more. I would love protective Luke with hurt/comfort, if that sounds interesting at all. Thanks for sharing your writing!!! 🌸
fighting chance; luke castellan
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wc + pairing: 4.2k, luke castellan x daughter of ares! reader
synopsis: when an enemy takes advantage of your kindness during capture the flag, luke intervenes with a sword in hand.
warnings: a creepy boy👎, threats/harm to reader, she’s going through it, blood/injuries (nothing major), angry ANGRY luke, violence, lots of fluff/reassurance at the end<3
notes: thank you SO much for your kind words & your request!! hurt/comfort is my bread and butter my favourite fic genre of all time i think. & protective luke is just a bonus bc he’s already crazy so it can go as far as i want🤭 i’m not exactly sure what this turned into but if i fix it any more i'm going to go insane so hope you like it!
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You’re not much of a fighter.
That alone is a normal thing to admit—plenty of people don’t like violence, the frisson of a challenge, the bruises that come with them. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.
Unless you’re a child of Ares.
People at camp often ridicule your gentle nature when they see you with your half-siblings. They’re all gritted teeth and sharp edges, born warriors that take up all the space they can get. You, on the other hand, are lousy with weapons and even lousier with your fists. You’re quiet, attentive. While your siblings charge into battle without second thought you stay back, flitting around to adjust armour, change out weapons, oversee the terrain. Planning isn’t Ares’ style so you’re pretty much useless but nobody wants to admit it. You’re usually mistaken as a child of Hephaestus or Athena.
Unfortunately, you are a child of Ares, through and through—just in none of the ways that matter.
There are rare times your father’s influence peeks through. Not with bursts of rage or fists flying, but with thoughts. And sometimes those thoughts turn into words. Well, not sometimes. One time. This one.
The evening before the camp’s Capture the Flag game, every cabin gathered around the bonfire past dinner. To burn offerings, to chat, or in Luke Castellan’s case, to admire.
He watches you laugh with Clarisse from a distance. The Ares cabin leader always had a certain fondness for you. When Luke first started dating you he had to ask Clarisse for her blessing beforehand just to be sure she wouldn’t kill him. He’d do it a million times over just for the moment you look back, your face warming when you catch his stare. He rolls his eyes at you to lessen his smile, but he’s not sure it works. You giggle and turn back to your friend.
He’s always loved your softness; your capacity to defend and not attack. Your body rejects any skill you could possibly develop for violence. Believe him, he’s tried to teach you sword fighting, but the last time he gave you a lesson you nearly impaled yourself thirty seconds in. He loves your wit and your tenderness, your proficiency at preventing conflict, your refusal to argue. But a selfish part of him loves the fact that he’s your protector even more.
The night wears on with the flickers of fire and friendly banter. One of the times Luke looks back at you, his brows wrinkle. There’s a guy talking to you. A group of them, actually, but there’s one clearly leading the pack. Some Aphrodite kid. Luke’s jaw twitches.
“Hey, princess,” the voice makes you pull away from your talk with Clarisse, but you’re confused. Luke is the only one that calls you that.
“Um, me?” You ask when you see the boy in front of you. He’s tall, chest puffed out. It’s not an endearing silhouette. “What’s up?”
“You wanna be on my team for Capture the Flag tomorrow?” He asks nonchalantly.
You laugh politely, “Sorry, but I don’t think we’re allied with Aphrodite tomorrow. That’s your cabin, isn’t it?” You feel bad that you can’t remember—his face is so … plain.
He chuckles back, but it’s a lot less nice. “No, doll, that’s not what I mean.” He steps a little too close, and even though you know Clarisse is behind you it feels like she’s a thousand miles away. “Well,” he drawls, a smirk drawn out, “you meet me in the forest after we start, and then we can … you know. Confer.”
“Confer?”
“Yeah. You get what I mean, pretty girl, don’t play dumb.”
A revulsion coats your gut. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me that,” you say as firmly as you can.
“What, pretty or dumb? Why not both?”
It’s demeaning, the way he says it, and it stirs a temper in your stomach you know you inherited from your father. You’re not big on confrontation. Or embarrassment. But this weirdo is talking to you out in the open and people are starting to stare. He wouldn’t dish it out if he can’t take it, right?
“I’ll pass on your offer. I have a boyfriend and I’m actually on his team tomorrow, so I’d rather confer with him, sorry.” Your hands wring together but you do your best to quell them, imagining it’s the string of Luke’s camp necklace, threaded between your fingers. You try to look for him out of the corner of your eye.
He snickers, even though it’s common knowledge you and Luke have been together for months now. “So you are dumb, huh?” He tries to smirk and you assume is supposed to be sexy, but it’s just gross. His hand tries to slide around your waist.
“Don’t touch me, please,” you hit his hand away. Your skin is crawling and the knot inside you tightens.“Just leave me alone. People are looking, you know.”
“We could go somewhere where nobody looks,” he sneers, and the grin on his face is so sleazy that you just can’t stand it anymore.
You pray to your father for strength. And to yourself for forgiveness.
“I’m sorry, are you stupid or something? I told you, no.” You snap. “Maybe you’re the pretty dumb one, but for a child of Aphrodite it’s shocking how little the first one applies.”
His eyes are wide, and the posse he’d assembled behind him has attracted quite the view. You almost feel like crying, all these eyes on you, but you’re so sick of people thinking they can walk all over you just because you’re not like your siblings.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m just trying to be nice—” He grabs your wrist as you leave but you yank it hard.
“Don’t. Touch me.” People are staring at you now, but the only one you care about is Luke, who looks equally ticked and equally proud, and all you want to do is kiss him. “Hope the only time we confer tomorrow is if somebody’s sword is at your throat.”
It’s the last thing you say to him. He starts to go after you but Luke is already at your heels. “Back off, man.” You can spot how all his muscles are already rearing themselves for a fight. You wrap a hand around his wrist, and he meets your eyes. Not now.
The altercation is lost the second the two of you leave the bonfire. Nothing matters when Luke has you in his arms, kissing you outside of your cabin, telling you how damn beautiful you looked.
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You’re fixing a new Ares boy’s armour when Luke finds you. “Hey, angel,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. He relishes in the way your face heats up. “You ready for battle?”
You smile, “Always.” You pat the kid on the cheek and send him on his way. He gnashes his teeth and roars, joining his siblings at the front. Luke catches the longing in your expression.
“All good?” He asks gently.
It takes you a second for your eyes to meet his. “Mmhm,” you swallow. “Just hope his armour doesn’t fall off.”
Luke sighs for a moment, then wraps his arms around you. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart. Be safe, okay? Stay close.” He kisses your temple, rubbing circles on the nape of your neck.
“Yes sir,” you reply against his chest. His insides flutter.
He pulls your face up to his and kisses you, tender and wanting. “Let’s show these hooligans who’s boss,” he quips.
“You’ll show them. I’ll hide in the woods until some idiot comes along and tries to ambush you.”
Your dulcet tone has him wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. “You’ve always got my back,” he croons, kissing your brow.
“And you’ve always got our flag.”
You kiss him again and he lets you slip out of his arms no matter how badly he wants to keep you there forever. He watches you vanish into the trees, and his heart goes with you.
He gears up with his team and the horn sounds. Game on.
There’s yelling, sweat, adrenaline, and Luke embraces it all like a man starved. This is his chance to be ruthless, to let all his untapped rage cycle through him. This is why he’s unstoppable. This is why he’s the best.
Clarisse is unusually cooperative today, but competent as always, and whenever someone’s weapon breaks or they lose their team she just barks at them to go find you. You, the smartest person in Ares, who can mend a weapon with nothing but blades of grass and determination. Luke is pretty sure your cabin would be lost without you. He wonders if you know.
The groove of the game has fully enthralled him. He’s alert, his wrist nimble, his sword a living, breathing part of him. There’s almost nothing that can take him out of his victory path until he hears one of the younger campers tell Clarisse he can’t find you anymore.
Whatever nincompoop he’s dealing with is left groaning on the floor. “What?” He barks, hand flexing around his sword. “Where is she?”
“Probably just moved,” Clarisse grunts as she kicks back an opposing camper. “She knows where everything is. Maybe she’s—oof—safer.”
“But how am I supposed to fix my spear?” The kid frowns.
Luke runs his tongue along the roof of his mouth, dry and laden with salt. He told you to stay close. Where would you go? “I’ll find her,” he decides, already sheathing his sword to walk towards the trees.
“Luke—”
“I’ll find her!”
He barely pays attention to the calamity going on around him. With a flick of his wrist he knows he can take out any person he wants. The second he gets to the trees, where the air is cooler, it’s startling how much quieter it is. No wonder this is your preferred hiding spot.
He thanks the quiet a thousand times over because if it had been any louder he wouldn’t have heard you scream.
It’s so short it’s almost indiscernible, but he knows it’s you based on how his body movies before his brain does. It snaps something in him, the adrenaline transformed into something acerbic, determined.
“Don’t fucking scream again.” A cluster of boys are stationed around you. You’re leaning back in the dirt. You barely feel the earth sticking to your skin. Just your heart jostling madly, your fingertips shaking in the ground beside you. “Okay, I won’t, just put the sword down—”
The snarling Aphrodite boy from last night takes a swing at you, and you scramble back just enough to avoid it. “No can do, doll.” His face is twisted with rage. The lackeys he had when you told him off are there too, cornering you against a cluster of trees like you’re some caged animal. There’s a dagger clenched in one of your dirt-ridden fists but you know it won’t do you any good. You can’t fight; you don’t have it in you. But these boys do. And they’re angry.
“Tell me where the flag is,” he orders. The tip of his blade comes under your chin, fogging up with the labours of your breath, your head pressed against the trunk of a tree.
You stutter, “You’re not—You’re not supposed to threaten like this—”
“You embarrassed me in front of all those people yesterday,” he cuts you off. “Thinking you’re so fucking smart. I didn’t even say anything that big a deal but you run your mouth to the entire camp and make me look like the idiot. I thought you were nice.”
The words are laced with poison. You know from the wild look in his eyes that this isn’t about the flag at all.
Tears sting your eyes and the sword grazes your throat. Of course this is happening to you. The one time you feel your father’s rage, when you exemplify the thing you’re told to be, you are punished.
You are never going to be the right kind of daughter.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” you try to say it evenly, but your breath is so ragged it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all that.” You mean it, but they won’t care.
The boy’s face looks pleased at your tears. It makes you inexorably ashamed. “Some fucking Ares kid,” he snorts. “Can’t even fight, can you? Can’t even pretend to.” His sword leaves your throat and travels up to your quivering jaw. You’re wordless, white-knuckling the dagger at your side, praying that Luke is somewhere nearby.
“No wonder they stash you back here. You’re useless.” His eyes scan every part of you, and the idea of him knowing what you look like forever is so revolting it makes you want to vanish. “Too bad you’re alone, though. Nobody’s gonna know I was here because nobody’s gonna hear you.”
Your eyes get wide, and something in your mind rumbles through you like an engine. An urge buried in your blood.
Your dagger tears into his leg just as his sword dashes your arm. The pain is sharp, stinging, but the boy winces and you know you hurt him too. It gives you just enough time to roll out of the way as he lurches forward. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He swears.
Blood drips onto your shorts, splotched with tears. You know you can’t go anywhere because his friends are here and you’re almost certain you’ll be maimed, but you tried. At least you tried.
The Aphrodite boy picks his sword back up, stalks towards you, and then freezes.
Because Luke has just spotted you. And he’s spotted the boy that has you on the ground.
And he’s the best fucking swordsman Camp Half-Blood has seen in three hundred years.
“If you don’t get away from her right now I’m putting this through your skull.” He emerges from the foliage, his sword raised, sweat dripping down his face. You have never seen anyone look angrier. He has never felt angrier.
The boy blanches, and Luke sees how easily his lapdog friends shrink in his presence. Good.
“Woah, easy,” the boy holds his hands up in mock surrender and tries to flash a smile but it’s just fucking pathetic. His arms are shaking and his throat bobs about a million times. “We’re just playing the game.”
“Like hell you are,” Luke spits. “You gang up on my girlfriend and you expect me to believe this is fair play? Want me to tie you all together and push one of you off a cliff to keep the spirit going?”
“Didn’t know she was yours,” the boy tries to shrug but again, it’s a miserable attempt that only makes Luke feel stronger.
“Not that it matters but yes, you do,” Luke chuckles thickly. “I beat your ass in sword training last week. You know exactly who I am. And I’m sure you know who you are, so it’s obvious you’re playing out of your league here.”
Out of the corner of his eye he sees you still cowering, blood dribbling down your arm. He wants to tear the world apart. “Apologize and maybe I don’t send you to the infirmary.”
“We just want the flag, man,” the boy swallows.
“And I want your head on a stick. Want to see who gets what first?”
It’s too provocative an insult for a moron like this to ignore, so soon Luke has the pleasure of disarming five bitter boys that have clearly never been good at a single thing in their life. He tears through them like sheets of paper, knocking them to the dirt, ripping their clothes. He thinks of you, just you, your honest heart and patient hands, and it’s enough to fuel him for a millennia.
The last boy, the leader, is at Luke’s mercy, and he has none to give. The flat of Luke’s blade is pressed horizontally against the boy’s neck, an angering similarity to the position he had you in earlier. “If you ever do this again, I’m going to kill you.”
“You’re—fucking—crazy—” The boy wheezes, the length of the blade squeezing his throat against a tree trunk. “I’ll—I‘ll tell Chiron.”
Luke has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep him from doing something he regrets. “Oh yeah? You want me to tell Chiron how you harassed and terrorised a girl in the middle of the forest all in the name of play? Want me to tell him what you said to her last night at the campfire? Because I’m sure it won’t take much for him to get rid of your ugly face as it is, and I’m a camp counsellor.”
He knows it’s not the most morally correct use of his title. He knows he might be stepping over the line. But he also knows you’re always being ignored or trampled over and he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t give a damn. He’s tired of people trying to force you into something you’re not. Of you crying in his bed at night because they’re trying to drag a violence out of you that isn’t there. Always in the name of fucking play.
Luke takes the sword off the boy’s neck and shoves him backwards. His calf is bleeding, not a deep wound, but a wound nonetheless, and Luke is full of pride when he realizes you did that. The boy’s bad leg makes him wobble and fall at the force of the push. Luke enjoys watching the scramble. “I—I was just trying to be nice, it’s not my fault she took it the wrong way!” The boy flails his hands in the air, rising to his feet again, and Luke shoves him down twice as hard. A piece of his shirt tears off in Luke’s hand.
“You’ve gotta stop talking or I really am going to kill you,” he seethes. “Don’t touch her ever again. Go.”
Luke is sure he looks homicidal right now because the guy finally tumbles his way down the hill. His body fades into the distance, swallowed up by shrubbery and sweat.
The second he’s gone Luke tosses his sword and armour and gets back to you. “Shit,” he mutters, kneeling down. You’re still shaking, your head in your arms, and all his hatred morphs into a love so desperate it terrifies him. “Angel, come here. Let me see.” He lifts your face with his hands and scans you rapidly. “Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anywhere?”
“Just my arm,” you whimper. “My arm.”
He knows it’s not the cut that’s hurting you; it’s long, but thin, and it’s not bleeding too thickly. He takes the cloth from the Aphrodite boy’s shirt and wraps it around your arm, knotting it at the end. “All right, that should be better.”
You look at him with watery eyes, and he knows all you need is for him to hold you. He folds you in his arms and leans against a stump. You can’t get close to him fast enough. The tip of your nose buries itself in his neck and he feels the dampness of your cheeks on his skin. “It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe,” he soothes, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Guilt swaths over him for a brief moment; he wonders if he shouldn’t have done all that, if he should’ve been more sensible. Then your lips form a ‘thank you’ against his skin and all is forgotten.
You feel so small. The shock is still running its course, so all you can do is cry it out. Your hands still shake when you thread your fingers through Luke’s necklace to steady them. He soothes you the best he can, running his hand along your spine, all the sharpness of his voice softened just for you. “You’re all right, angel. I’m not going anywhere.”
You stay like that for a while. The sounds of the forest return to you; leaves in the wind, birds chirping, Luke’s breath tickling your hair. You crane your head up to nuzzle your nose against the faint stubble of his jaw. “My hero,” you murmur, and feel his skin shift as he smiles.
“Couldn’t have done it without you. Saw the cut you gave him on his leg.” He kisses your temple. “I hope it gets infected.”
You giggle weakly no matter how you try smothering it in his chest. “Gods, you’re awful.”
“He deserves it! I probably should have killed him!”
“You came pretty close, didn’t you?” You mumble. Luke’s expression is wary, but you smile to yourself and it dispels everything. “I was hoping you’d come.”
“Good. Serves them right, messing with you like that. Fucking idiots.” He kisses your face again for good measure, “You sure they didn’t get you anywhere else, princess?”
You nod but you know you look wounded. You nudge into the crook of Luke’s neck again. “They … you know, it’s just … the usual stuff.” Every word weighs a pound as it comes out. Your heart feels sore.
Luke tenses again instantly. “What usual stuff?”
“Um, just—” The shame gets caught in your throat. “They all think I’m useless, Luke. Why can’t I do this right?”
You start to cry again, but he just holds you closer. Sometimes it surprises you how much patience he has. He prides himself as the harsher one between the two of you, but you don’t know who he’s fooling with the way he always knows how to comfort people.
“I don’t know what to do,” you continue, blinking back tears, “I’m not—I’m just not good at this, I don’t know why I’m in Ares, I don’t know why I can’t … be that. Why is he my father? I’m no good at being angry. I want to be angry.”
Luke’s quiet for a moment. Nothing changes except his hand rubbing circles on the nape of your neck again. Then he sighs deeply and says, “You don’t owe your father a damn thing. You don’t owe anyone anything.” He’s resolute, firm, a sharp contrast to his gentle kiss on your hairline. “You’re the smartest, most generous person I know. You need those people in battle. You’ll lose if you don’t.”
The warmth of his skin prompts you to look up at him. He looks different so often, the way he can shift between so tough and so gentle. Sometimes, like now, he’s caught in the middle, the remains of a furious sweat hardening his face, but his eyes are nothing but tender. You think it’s how you like him best.
“Besides, we’re not our parents, right? Who cares about Ares anyway?” Luke shrugs.
“Luke! Don’t say that!” your tears turn into a giggle. “The Gods might punish you!”
“I’ll handle it. There’s enough fight in me for the both of us.”
“Okay, tough guy,” you mutter with a weak smile.
You’re still sniffling. He runs his thumbs across your cheeks, and his gaze softens. “You’re an Ares kid because you are a fighter, angel. You just fight a hell of a lot smarter than the rest of us. Best one I know. Well, other than me.”
It makes you smile. “So second-best?”
“Tied for first.”
He kisses you with that stupid roguish smile. It’s salty with tears and sweat, but it mends your heart anyway. There is nowhere in the world you’d feel safer.
“I love you,” he says against your cheek. “Be as sweet as you want. If anyone has anything to say about it I’ll mess ‘em up good.” Your face warms as his voice drops to your ear, “And I know you’re an Ares kid because you’ll encourage it every time. You might not have a violent bone in your body, but you sure don’t have a problem with me using mine.”
“Diplomatically, Luke. Diplomatically.”
“Sure, sure. Whatever you want.”
You can’t help but kiss him again. You’re not entirely sure why he loves you so much, why you love him so much, but you never feel quite as secure as when you’re with him.
Cheers boom from the other side of camp. Luke’s head perks up like a dog, and you turn back to search for spots of red or blue. “Did we win?” You ask, craning your head to get a better view.
“Don’t care,” Luke says.
You look back at him. His anxious face says it all. “Yes, you do.”
“Okay yes, I do, and I need to see if those douches found our flag so I can choke them out with it.”
You laugh, standing so Luke can jog off to see the state of your team. But before he goes, he picks you up and smothers you in kisses, holding you like you’re his prize.
You are not a fighter, but your boyfriend sure is. And you’re perfectly okay with that.
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balletfilmss · 4 months
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LOVERS LAKE
✸ pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader
✸ synopsis: you & luke escape to the lake and away from counselor duties!
✸ warnings: pre-tlt, established relationship, kissing, me believing whole heartedly that i can fix him
✸ authors’s note: ignoring that it’s literally christmas & this is so summer-coded, charlie bushnell brought back my original series luke obsession so here you go 🙈
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the lake was arguably the best place to be at camp half-blood, even for someone who hated the water and was all but dragged their by somebody else who loved it.
that someone was you, and the somebody else was luke.
that boy loved swimming in the lake like the stars love sitting in the sky, and the only thing that made it better was when you were there with him.
between knowing that fact and the pleading look in his pretty puppy eyes, how could you say no?
so now you and him were in the lake together, on a rare escape from your responsibilities as counselors during rec time. you may or may not have been hiding from your campers by staying hidden by the boathouse that stored the camp’s supply of canoes.
you were clinging onto the wooden dock while your boyfriend swam about, still putting on your angry facade at him after he threw you in the water initially.
was the way he scooped you up in his big strong arms and grinned like a little kid when he jumped in with you absolutely adorable? yes. did that mean you were going to let him get away with it? absolutely not.
pouting with your arms wrapped around the dock leg, you watched as the boy’s head disappeared underwater, not missing the mischievous glint that lingered in his eyes beforehand.
and just as you had expected, a wet head of dark curls popped up just beside you. just to be annoying, he shook his head like some kind of dog and laughed when you scrunched your face up at the flying drops of water.
the little loser laughed at you. now you were definitely mad, and would’ve crossed your arms and harrumphed if you weren’t still holding on to the dock like you’d die if you let go.
“are you ever gonna leave that poor dock be and actually come swim with me?” he asked, batting his pretty long eyelashes like he was pleading for you to do what he asked.
“go away.” you grumbled, looking away from him.
“aw, c’mon sweetheart.” he cooed, his tone teetering between teasing and sincere.
you felt familiar hands wrap around your waist as luke pried you away from the dock, ignoring your words of protest.
“you are literally going to drown me.” you frown as you have no choice but to hold onto him.
look, it wasn’t that you couldn’t swim, it was just that it was going to take one hell of a monster chasing you to make it happen.
“oh my gods, i am going to die.”
you were now out of arm’s reach of the shore, left with nothing but your boyfriend to keep you afloat. dam it.
“would you relax? i’m not gonna let you drown.” he chuckled, smiling at your antics as he kept both you and himself afloat.
“well you pushed me in, so you may as well.” you responded, sticking your chin up in dramatic negligence.
“hey, it was push you in or get caught and have about seventeen campers join us. which would you rather have?”
the first option, obviously, but you weren’t going to tell him that.
instead, you stuck to the silent treatment, which meant luke was left to his last and final resort.
“guess you leave me with no choice then,” he feigned a regretful sigh, even though you both knew he was ecstatic to do what he was thinking.
“wha- no. no no no no!”
luke had let go of your waist for no more than two seconds before you had screamed and clung onto him for dear life, your arms tightly wound around his neck and legs around his waist.
“i’m going to kill you, castellan.” you grumble, unable to see his reaction as your cheek was pressed against his.
there it was again, that gods damned chuckle of his that made your heart do little somersaults.
“love you too.” he said humorously. but when you didn’t reply with the same phrase, it was his turn to pout.
“hey.”
between the pout in his voice and the poke he delivered to your sides, you knew that your inattention had had just the effect you wanted.
this was the dance the two of you had done several times before. he’d annoy you, you’d ignore him and then you would relish in the way he turned into a lost puppy when it lasted for ten seconds too long, proving once again just how tightly you had him wrapped around your finger.
“hey. hey. hey.”
he poked you again and again, repeating the same word in hopes that you’d look at him, but you remained relentless.
“i’m not forgiving you that easily.” you insisted, as if your faces weren’t inches away from each other and water wasn’t the only thing between your body and his.
once again, he knew you too well to know there was little truth to your words.
he pressed a kiss to your cheek in hopes to get you to finally turn your head and look at him. again, nothing.
“hey, pretty girl.” he whispered, growing desperate and excruciatingly impatient. “would you at least look at me?”
feeling as though you’d drawn it out rather excessively, you listened and looked at him.
immediately, your lips were captured by his in a sweet kiss, the lake water seeping in between and tainting the flavor.
when he pulled away, luke wore a smirky kind of smile that made you want to kiss him again just to get rid of it and the giddy little feeling it gave you.
“am i forgiven now?”
he was, but instead of saying that, that was when you splashed a wave of water in his pretty little face.
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bucketsofmonsters · 8 months
Text
On The Altar
cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time
male dragon x male knight x fem reader
word count: 12k
Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you. 
You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did. 
Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then. 
You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really. 
It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count
Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps. 
You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task. 
You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes. 
You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe. 
Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out. 
Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time. 
They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition. 
You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes. 
All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.
And the town saved. 
They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them. 
What a privilege it was to die for them. 
You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out. 
Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming. 
You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall. 
Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up. 
You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you. 
You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders. 
And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes. 
As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you. 
It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into. 
It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you. 
Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible. 
You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative. 
He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing. 
You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact. 
Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”
You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more. 
You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind. 
“Hello,” you responded. 
Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”
You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature. 
“You were out there to be taken, yes?”
Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world. 
You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.
“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”
“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken. 
“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”
“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”
“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”
“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”
You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice. 
“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”
“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped. 
The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”
“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”
It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand. 
You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him. 
He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”
“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”
He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”
Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“I can’t let them hurt you.”
You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish. 
“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”
Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”
“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”
You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice. 
You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff. 
He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude. 
“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.
“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself. 
He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion. 
“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.” 
With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave. 
He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language. 
You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it. 
As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it. 
You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path. 
You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return. 
Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill. 
You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall. 
At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said. 
“I can’t eat that.”
You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you. 
“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.” 
At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price. 
He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”
He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs. 
When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground. 
“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”
“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home. 
He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.
“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”
If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in. 
“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”
You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.
You looked down at the sheep again. 
Maybe not entirely alone. 
He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back. 
You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.
Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight. 
As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”
You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food. 
As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”
The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”
“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”
“They do. Just not me.”
You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”
He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”
You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”
The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different. 
“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”
“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place. 
“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”
“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”
You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”
Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”
You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”
“But not today?”
You shook your head. “Not today.”
“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”
You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all. 
When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen. 
Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you. 
Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.  
When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him. 
You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering. 
He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him. 
You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.
It wasn’t much but it was all you had. 
The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner. 
Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much. 
As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave. 
You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept. 
You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks. 
“You’re still upset with me,” he noted. 
“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”
“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.
“You did.”
“You’ll find a new ending someday.”
“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.
“You matter.”
You scoffed. “I did.”
“You do.”
You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”
“Goodnight, little human.”
You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe. 
You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you. 
“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was. 
You slid away from him, back into the cold. 
He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”
You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”
“I will not.”
You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin. 
You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep. 
You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side. 
Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side. 
You’d never slept better. 
You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze. 
“Good morning,” he said.
You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back. 
You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right. 
You pulled away from him, feeling sick.
Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable. 
“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer. 
You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”
He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him. 
You didn’t.
“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”
“It just wasn’t meant to be." 
“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out. 
You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”
He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm. 
You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”
And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you. 
Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant. 
“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”
You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday. 
You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago. 
“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”
His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”
A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now. 
Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed. 
Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again. 
This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds. 
Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy. 
The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done. 
He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him. 
As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky. 
 Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways. 
The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears. 
You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen. 
The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming. 
You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty. 
You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village. 
As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you. 
You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces. 
“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak. 
The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears. 
Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly? 
“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”
The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”
You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”
“An example must be made.”
You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”
The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle. 
“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.
You could barely think, barely hear his words. 
The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it. 
You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore. 
It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left. 
The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife. 
It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more. 
Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something. 
A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head. 
And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse. 
Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist. 
You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”
The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient. 
Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted. 
You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you. 
Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for. 
As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened. 
He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him. 
“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”
“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.
“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”
He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”
You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”
“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.
You refused it. It would be a waste anyways. 
“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you? 
“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”
“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”
“For what?”
“To be their sacrifice.”
“You didn’t deserve that.”
You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him. 
It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be? 
You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now? 
Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?
The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home. 
You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”
That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”
“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him. 
“Phillip.”
You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking. 
He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement. 
He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes. 
He returned in a few moments. 
“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”
You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse. 
It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get. 
As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away. 
It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight. 
You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good. 
You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean. 
You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go. 
You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?
Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever. 
As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere. 
You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed. 
You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress. 
You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.
He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm. 
“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”
He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them. 
No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off. 
“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”
“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”
You shook your head again. 
You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”
You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”
He nodded. “Promise.”
You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”
You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change. 
A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises. 
You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well. 
The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option. 
You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem. 
As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree. 
You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”
“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”
“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”
You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?
“I can drop you off at any other town.”
You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright. 
He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew. 
He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you. 
He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 
It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.
The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive. 
Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it. 
Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar. 
It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.
You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it. 
If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them. 
 Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.
You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing. 
With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that. 
You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”
“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”
“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”
You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”
The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path. 
You took off in a dead sprint after him. 
You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready. 
You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place. 
The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation. 
Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be. 
You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck. 
Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”
You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you. 
For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it. 
He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp. 
You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly. 
Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight. 
“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you. 
You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make. 
“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful. 
You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot. 
He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you. 
You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”
He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.” 
He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere. 
And not a moment too soon. 
The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze. 
The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal. 
You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.
You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”
“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”
You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man. 
“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”
“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”
You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized. 
“No. But… but you….”
“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”
“If he took you, how did you escape?”
“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case. 
“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”
“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”
He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”
“And it’s not your choice to make.”
He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate. 
Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did. 
“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor. 
“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt. 
Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”
He nodded hesitantly. 
Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”
“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”
The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”
You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”
“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”
Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”
You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”
“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”
You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”
“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred. 
“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”
You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”
“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be. 
The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive. 
“Pytho?” you called out. 
He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”
“Could you go get some wood?”
“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off. 
When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots. 
You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime. 
You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished. 
You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth. 
“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here. 
He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”
“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him. 
With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire. 
You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”
He didn’t respond. 
You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain. 
A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him. 
He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”
“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”
His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes. 
“I wish I could do that.”
“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”
Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind. 
You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”
He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”
You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home. 
The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell. 
What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten. 
Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him. 
“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.
He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for. 
“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand. 
“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky. 
You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.” 
There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest. 
After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”
He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides. 
With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.
You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him. 
He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.
He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.
You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.
His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope. 
You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did. 
“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”
“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”
“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”
His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”
You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”
He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”
“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”
“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that. 
“Don’t you get tired?”
“I never have the time.”
“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”
He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.
He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it. 
Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place. 
“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation. 
“Yeah?”
“Where is my sword?” he asked. 
You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”
“You what? Why?”
Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”
You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”
“Why?” asked Phillip.
“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”
“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”
“You already did attack him unprovoked.”
“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”
Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”
That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”
Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”
“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”
Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”
He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat. 
“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest. 
It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place. 
“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”
Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope. 
“What should I do?” he asked you quietly. 
You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”
It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor. 
His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.
He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him. 
You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years. 
His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there. 
He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected. 
With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong. 
A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner. 
You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.
“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”
You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment. 
“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.” 
You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”
“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”
You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.” 
His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”
“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”
“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”
“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”
His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied. 
Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”
“What?”
“That I never stop. That upsets you?”
You nodded. “It does.”
“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”
A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”
“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”
And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”
A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.” 
Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it. 
“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin. 
“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice. 
You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that. 
And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you. 
“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”
You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon. 
The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell. 
As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before. 
Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it. 
And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner. 
You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you. 
You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it. 
He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face. 
“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked. 
“What?”
“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”
Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”
You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”
He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”
He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge. 
You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue. 
A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him. 
You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him. 
“What was that?” you asked quietly. 
He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”
Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”
He nodded hesitantly. 
“You kiss me all the time though.”
He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”
As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”
You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more. 
You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw. 
You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you. 
You couldn’t be happier. 
“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy. 
And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his. 
As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this. 
“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”
His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before. 
As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you. 
He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go. 
His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him. 
You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was. 
His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine. 
His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream. 
It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before. 
His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go. 
His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could. 
You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat. 
He was massive, probably a foot long. 
“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.
The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate. 
“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”
Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything. 
Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall. 
“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you. 
He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at. 
Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do. 
He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”
You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.
So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho. 
He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”
He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety. 
You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly. 
He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin. 
You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin. 
Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.
Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.
“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that. 
You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”
The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped. 
His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin. 
You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides. 
You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you. 
“Please,” you asked. 
He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard. 
Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you. 
Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch. 
Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly. 
“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture. 
You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing. 
You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust. 
Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care. 
He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.
You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you. 
As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip. 
Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore. 
You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt. 
You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life. 
Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”
“Plans change,” you said. 
“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again. 
You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you. 
Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before. 
Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water. 
You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet. 
It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind. 
Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily. 
As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon. 
You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment. 
He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything. 
You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing. 
“What?”
His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”
You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”
He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”
“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried. 
“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”
He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”
He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”
You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”
“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”
You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”
Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”
It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like. 
You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”
“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”
You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”
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readychilledwine · 3 months
Note
Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request an azriel x feysands daughter reader fic where azriel leaves velaris and the inner circle temporarily after elain chooses lucien over him. He comes back like 50 years later and at that point rhys and feyre have two kids, nyx and reader. Azriel meets reader at a bar and the bond snaps, azriel is so shocked by the bond snapping that he doesn’t notice that she looks just like rhys and feyre. After going on dates and stuff, reader introduces azriel to her parents and everyone is hella confused.
Small World
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Warnings - best friends daughter, implied smut, angry rhys
A/N - Azriel can't catch a break. Poor guy. Also, peep this cute divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Part Two is Here
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Azriel held your hand tight as you two walked through Velaris. You were running late to a family dinner where he'd be meeting your parents, brother, and a few other people for the first time.
He watched familiar streets passing by, shadows grown eerily quiet. You stopped at a familiar restaurant, one he had frequented over 20 years ago. He came here with Rhys and Cassian almost weekly before they became mated, and he left the Night Court for 20 years.
He had told you his story of a beautiful love forbidden to him due to her mating bond. He had told parts of his past, of his journeys outside of night, of the past years he had spent healing.
He had been back in Velaris for almost 3 years. 2 of which were spent solely with you.
You had been moving into the apartment next to his when you two crossed paths. You had been struggling to carry a heavy box, so he had taken it from you, helping you get it into your apartment.
That quick interaction turned into nights spent reading together so you both weren't alone. Then coffee in the mornings. Then days spent shopping. Evenings spent out to dinner.
You two spoke about everything.
Well.
Almost everything.
Families were a mostly banned topic.
Azriel knew you had a brother 5 years older than you. He knew both of your mother was involved in your life, as well as married and mated. He knew you had 2 blood aunts, one of which was married, one of which was not. He knew your father was a banned topic.
You knew he had 2 blood brothers, the ones who had scarred his hands, 2 chosen brothers, and several others he considered family. That his mother was wonderful, that he hoped his father found a shallow grave.
But you had told him bringing family into your love life normally ended poorly.
And he had told you he had not been around or spoken to his found family since he left.
You two closed that book, choosing to be just you and him.
You stopped before hitting the private back room Azriel had been in many times. "As a reminder, my dad and brother are dicks."
Azriel leaned down kissing you softly. "I can handle a few assholes, angel."
You sighed heavily. "Just remember, I didn't tell you because they ruin everything. Please." He nodded again, resting his forehead on yours.
You two stood there breathing for a few seconds as he ran a hand through your sandy blonde hair. "Let's just go in. An hour," he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. "One hour and then we go home."
Home.
The cabin you two had just purchased and moved into.
Small. Intimate. Cozy.
Everything you two both didn't know the other never knew.
Everything you two wanted as soon as the bond snapped a couple months ago.
You shared one last kiss, opening the door.
Your father and mother had their backs to you, speaking with your brother who instantly paled the second he saw who you were with.
Azriel had gone stiff, eyes locked with a shocked Cassian.
Nesta almost dropped her wine with a gasp, handing flying to her mouth as she stepped back and shook her head.
Azriel looked at you again. Studying you harder.
Sandy blonde hair.
Button nose.
High cheek bones.
Part illyrian.
Eyes that reflected starlight.
Eyes that were near violet.
Rhysand's eyes.
"Mom, dad," you approached them, ignoring the tension in the room and pulling Azriel with you.
Rhys turned first, whiskey glass shattering in his grip before a look of shock and anger hit him. Feyre immediately turned after that. She was too stunned to move. "This is my mate and boyfriend-"
Elain whispered before you could finish, eyes watering with sadness and hope, "Azriel."
Rhys nodded, scratching his jaw. "I know who he is, babygirl."
Azriel watched you as you looked between them before your face fell. "You're that Azriel."
Feyre clapped her hands, forcing light and air into the room. "Let's sit and eat! This is a um, lovely, surprise. We should all be excited!"
Aunt Elain immediately moved, sitting on Azriel's other side. His hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers together. Your father sat across from him, mother to one side, Cassian to the other. Nyx sat next to Nesta and her Elain as you all eat at the circled table.
"So where have you been," Nyx refused to be intimated by the situation, secretly filing this away as an example of why he was the better child. "And when did you start seeing my sister?"
Azriel shifted, clearing his throat. "I spent the last 17 years traveling the world. I've been back in Velaris for 3 years. I started seeing y/n 2 years ago."
Cassian drank his beer as if it was water before setting the mug down and refilling it. "You have been back for 3 years and didn't think to yourself that you should go visit your brothers?"
"I wasn't ready."
"But you were ready enough to fuck my daughter as a revenge move?"
"Rhys!" "Dad!"
Rhys put a hand up to your mother and gave you a look. "You would feel the same had it been Elain who ran, Feyre Darling. And you," he turned towards you. "You should have told me who he was."
"Do not speak to her like that. She is not a child."
Nesta looked up, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. "She is my child," Rhys growled. "You've been bedding your niece."
Nesta slammed her hands down, "Enough! She is not his niece by blood, and she is clearly upset. If you all cannot be civil, I'm taking y/n home." The room went silent with Lady Death's power flickering through it. "This is the first real family meal we have gotten to have in 20 years," a sad gaze met Azriel's. Guilt shook him, reminding him if the friendship he and Nesta had formed. The friendship he had abandoned. "Can we please just enjoy it."
You were uncomfortable, tears beginning to form as his scarred hand refound yours under the table and squeezed. Rhys nodded, going back to his food as the sound of utensils barely scraping and drinks being poured filled the air.
You should have put two and two together.
Scarred hands.
Massive wingspan.
Mysterious male.
Pretty dagger.
Of course he was that Azriel. The Azriel your Aunt Elain had been pining for for years now.
The Azriel who left in the dead of night leaving only a note.
The Azriel whose seat sat empty your whole life as your dad's stare always lingered on it.
You squeezed his hand back, glancing at the white wine on the table and your empty glass. It was a rare occurrence for you to drink, but now seemed like the perfect time. "Daddy, can I have some wine please?"
You hadn't thought about that either as two deep male voices replied as they reached for the wine, "Of course, baby."
The silence was deafening. Your real father too stunned to speak, Azriel's face growing red with embarrassment.
Cassian, always the joyful uncle, broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did your mother. The two of them gripping each other tightly as your father sat blinking over and over, trying to erase this moment from him mind.
It was then the tears fell, and you stood, leaving them to eat as you went into the bathroom.
Azriel and Rhys stared at each other. "We have to get through this for her. You have to get over it. It would have happened regardless of me being here or me leaving."
Rhys growled. "You left without warning, without consulting us, without-"
"You told me to do whatever I needed do to move on and prevent war with Autumn and Day. I did what I had to. I got help, I saw the world, I moved on. I did not plan on coming home and meeting y/n. I didn't even know she was yours until tonight." Azriel took a deep breath before turning to Nesta. "She needs you. Please."
She stood, her and Feyre went after the young female without hesitation. Nyx stood, offering an arm to Elain and forcing her from the room as his father and uncles, well, uncle and soon to be brother, spoke. "You want to talk about fucked up abandonment, Rhys? Where the hell have you been the past two years of her life?"
"Do not speak to me about things you do not understand or know about."
"How can he know," Cassian started gently. "How can he know how we're all working on fixing our relationships with her if we don't tell him. We aren't innocent, Rhys. Maybe this is the first step. Accepting them, loving them despite everything," a silent message was sent to Azriel through Cassian's eyes, "Maybe that's what it takes to bring y/n home."
Rhys looked up, eyes being to line with tears. "What does she say about me?"
Azriel sighed, drinking his whiskey heavily. "That her father favored her brother. Despite his power and ability to look and find the truth, he believed her brother without hesitation and would punish her for his actions at times. That he threatened her once by reminding her that as an illyrian, and as a female, her worth was in whom she was sold to."
Azriel watched the visible flinch. "I can't help but to wonder how bad the argument must have been for that to have been what you said to her."
"I caught her with Tamlin," Rhysand's voice broke. "I caught them whispering about running away together. About sailing somewhere and living out their lives, just the two of them now that he handed Spring over to his heir. She didn't know what he had done to Feyre, who he was. I," Rhys shook his head. "I lost my shit without explaining. Tamlin also didn't know she was mine. I hid her so well for her protection. To prevent anyone from trying to purchase her. I did such a great job protecting her that my protection backfired and she began to rebel."
Cassian sighed softly. "She moved out because Rhys told her he gave up. That if she wanted to explore the world without his hands, without our guidance, then that's what she should go do. He set her up with enough money to last 5 years, bought that apartment complex you two live in, and sent her on her way."
"She just doesn't listen."
Azriel shook his head. "Why would she listen when she isn't heard? From her side, you treat her like your father treated Selene."
"I love her much more than my father ever loved my sister."
"Then show her," Azriel leaned back into his chair. "Show her before I take her from this place, too."
Cassian stiffened, his breathing becoming deep but strained. "They're about to come out. Y/n wants to leave."
Azriel stood, "Then we go. I won't force her to stay here. Let me know when you're ready to talk, Rhys. And if you never are, do not be surprised when I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and happy."
You were out the door quickly and into Azriel's chest, shadows pulling you two away to wherever he took you for comfort, to wherever you felt safe. Feyre turned to Rhys, fire blazing in her eyes, "Fix. This."
PS - there will be a part two
General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu
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skzstannie · 3 months
Note
Hii it’s okay if you can’t but I was wondering if you could do a skz x 9th member reader where she was in a car crash as well as the others? But she was badly injured as well and had to be looked after by chan because she wasn’t in good condition? Totally okay if you can’t thanks❤️
"You're awake!"
SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member!reader (Chan-centric)
genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~3,200 cw: some cussing, car accident, reader and skz get hurt
summary: ^^ see request
A/N: Hello! Not super happy with how this came out, but I hope you still like it anon! Started a new semester, so updates will be less frequent, but I'll still be lurking in everyone's feed through likes and reblogs 👀
Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!
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"I'm just saying, if penguin's could fly, I think they'd take over the world."
"Felix, literally what are you talking about?" you give him a strange look from where you're seated diagonal from him in the car.
"If penguins ever learned to fly, I think they'd try to overthrow the government in a vengeful fury."
You all sit in silence for a moment, trying to preserve the last of your braincells from deteriorating.
"Okay..." Seungmin responds, quirking his eyebrow at him.
"I am so excited for tonight!" you break the silence that settles, practically vibrating in your seat from the excitement.
"We know, you haven't stopped talking about it," Minho boredly comments, his phone lighting up his face from the shadowy back seat.
Jeongin throws an elbow in his side from where he's seated beside him, earning himself a nasty glare from the man. "Don't be mean to Ynnie, she's just excited to perform."
"I'm so sorry. Let me rephrase that," he clears his throat, setting his phone down in his lap, "Oh my gosh, I know! It's all you've talked about since this morning!" he squeaks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your grumpy member.
Before Minho has the chance to respond, your entire world is shaken when another car T-bones you from the right.
Time seems to slow down as the car is flipped, sending you out of your seat towards the ceiling of the car. Your seatbelt manages to control some of the damage to your head, but it slices into your neck from the pressure. Blood starts to drip out of your wound, but you don't even feel it as your hazy gaze travels over to your members.
Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes land on Felix's still body in the back seat, his eyelids draped shut. He doesn't appear to have any other injuries, but you're immediately ripped away from the sight of Felix when you hear Minho groan in pain. You Jeongin a quick once over, and upon seeing no visible injuries, keep your eyes moving. You don't miss the way Jeongin's hands are firmly grasped around Felix's forearm as he shakes the older man, trying to wake him.
It's painful to twist in your seat, but you do so anyway. Catching a glimpse of Minho, you see a jagged piece of glass protruding out of his forearm. It appears small, but you know it must still hurt like a bitch. Other than that he looks okay, so you continue to look over your remaining members. His eyes are panicked as he frantically looks over the four of you. "You guys ok?" his voice shakes with fear, and his teeth are clenched from the pain radiating from the glass in his arm.
The ringing in your ears starts to subside a bit, and the grunts coming from your right get louder. Seungmin's arm is twisted at an unnatural angle, and there's blood dripping from his left eyebrow. You can't bring yourself to answer Minho, the shock still clouding your mind.
As the rest of your senses start to come back to you, your focus remains on Seungmin as he huffs in pain. You feel a stinging sensation in your thigh, but as you slowly start to drop your head to look, you feel a shaky finger reach under your chin.
Seungmin's reached his hand out, gently pulling your chin until your eyes meet his again.
"Just keep looking at me, Yn," he whispers. You do as you're told, but the pain is worsening by the second, and your breathing starts to quicken.
All else is tuned out as your eyes remain on Seungmin's unwavering gaze.
Seconds feel like hours as you sit there in the car. Your eyelids start to become heavy, and you fuzzily catch Seungmin's eyes turn frantic as your blinks become slower and more frequent.
"Just keep your eyes open, don't fall asleep," he repeats. His word are gentle at first, but as your mind turns to mud, his voice becomes louder and urgent, almost screaming at you. You feel a rough hand grab your shoulder from behind, shaking you. Their attempts to keep you awake are futile, though, as everything becomes too much for you to handle.
"No, don't close your eyes! Stay with me!" and that's the last thing you hear before you drift off into the darkness.
~ ~ ~
You're awoken to the sound of quiet repetitive beeping.
Opening your eyes is a task all in itself, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy.
After a moment of struggle, you're met with the bright light from a window to your right. You slowly turn your head to the side, and you see Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all perched on the couch. It looks uncomfortable, the way all three of them are scrunched up on the little loveseat.
You let your gaze linger on them for a moment, their presence providing a calming sensation for your jumbled mind.
Suddenly, your surroundings overwhelm you. You become terribly aware of all the wires connected to you. The ECG stickers become your biggest enemy, and the IV sticking out of your hand makes you angry.
Really angry.
You groan when you try to lift your arm, a sharp, shooting pain radiating down from your shoulder. You push through the pain though, urgent to remove all these wires from your body. The bandages littering your body feel as if they're burning your skin, and you've never needed to get something off of you faster.
You begin to peel the bandages from your arms, the pain from the adhesive no match for the pain you had been feeling previous to their removal.
Your agonistic groans manage to wake Changbin, and he panics when he sees you frantically tearing at your ECG stickers.
He jumps up from the couch, earning a yelp from Hyunjin as he was using Changbin as a pillow.
You're too overwhelmed to care about their actions as you continue to tear at your skin, even the blankets covering your body feeling like burning coals on your skin.
"Woah, what are you doing? You can't take those off yet," Changbin tells you, rushing to your side to try and restrain your arms.
"They're hurting me," you mumble, wretching your arms out of Changbin's grip to continue to pull at everything that touches you.
"Yn," Hyunjin gasps, quickly standing to his feet, running over to help Changbin.
Chan awakens from the commotion, alarm bells immediately sounding in his head when he sees your panicked movements.
You become more frantic when Hyunjin grabs one of your arms from Changbin, rendering you immobile.
"Get off!" you screech, yanking on your arms as hard as you can. Chan quickly runs out of the room in search of any healthcare professional he can find.
"You're gonna hurt yourself," Hyunjin struggles against you, holding tightly onto your hand.
"Let me go!" you continue to scream like a banshee, "You're hurting me!"
Neither do as you say, fearing for what you'll do to yourself if they listen.
"You're ok," Changbin pleads, bringing one of his hands away from your arm to rest it gently on your forehead. "Please calm down, everything will be ok."
You're too panicked to notice Chan re-enter the room, a nurse trailing in behind him.
She has a shot in her hand, and she hurriedly comes up beside Changbin to administer the drug. She hastily inserts the needle into your upper arm, and it only takes seconds for your demeanor to soften. Your thrashing becomes weaker, and your shouts become quieter, turning into soft mumbles.
The guys let out a sigh upon seeing your eyes close, your stature finally relaxing into the hospital bed once again.
"What the hell was that?" Hyunjin huffs, slightly out of breath from the physical altercation.
"Sometimes patients can be violent when they wake up out of a coma. It can happen to anyone," the nurse explains, taking the chart off the wall beside the bed. "We'll get some soft restraints to put on her arms before she wakes up again. It's unlikely for her to panic again, but it's just a precaution."
The guys nod, all three of them staring at your now peaceful face.
~ ~ ~
The next time you wake up, you feel as if you're experiencing deja vu. Your eyes open slowly, and you wince at the feeling of them being crusted over from sleep.
You also become strikingly aware of the aching pain radiating from your thigh. Your leg remains immobile, and you feel the constricting cast running from your mid thigh down to your ankle.
You go to bring your hand up to rub your face, but your movements are restricted. Your attention is brought to your hands, now laying limply by your side. There are restraints covering your wrists. Your face contorts into an expression of confusion, and you glance at the couch to your right.
Seated there are Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Your deja vu hits you harder when you see them resting against one another, sleeping soundly.
"Chan," you call out to him, your voice surprisingly hoarse, your throat scratchy and raw.
He immediately jolts up, waking the other two in the process.
"Hey, you're awake," he says, getting up from the couch.
He's cautious as he walks over to you, taking slow steps to get to your bed. Changbin and Hyunjin watch from the couch, keeping their distance. Their expressions rival Chan's, somehow looking even more timid.
"Hi," you suddenly feel shy under their gazes, "Why are you looking at me like that? I can't even move; can we get these things off of me."
"Yea, sorry, the nurse said it was just precautionary. I'll go get someone to take them off of you," Hyunjin gets up from the couch, hurrying out into the hallway.
Realization dawns on you, and you bring your eyes to meet Chan's again. "Did I hurt someone? What happened?"
"You were trying to hurt yourself," a nurse enters the room, answering the question for Chan. "You were in a coma for a couple days. Sometimes, when patients wake, they can turn aggressive. Which you did, but nobody was hurt, the boys stopped you before you could do any damage."
You just nod, not entirely sure how to respond. She explains in more detail what had happened as she takes the restraints off your wrists.
"We had to sedate you, so you were out for an additional day. On the bright side, your coma allowed for your body to do some of the tough healing while you were unconscious. You had a surgery on your thigh the night you were brought in due to a compound fracture in your femur. The surgery was successful. It seems to be doing well for now, of course we'll have to bring you back in for some check-ups, but you should be good to go for now."
Your eyes widen as she goes on and on. Chan sits beside you, rubbing a hand up and down your back to help comfort you. The nurse continues about the paperwork, and leaves to gather it so you can leave.
"How are you feeling?" Changbin asks from the end of your bed.
"Overwhelmed," you answer curtly. The thought of not being able to perform for a while hurts your heart. Not only that, but you can't even walk!
Your suddenly hit with a wave of memories from the night of the accident, and your eyes water at the thought of the rest of your members who were in the car with you.
"Are the other guys alright? Where are they?" your voice is panicked as you ramble off questions.
"They're ok, we promise," Chan reassures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "They went home a couple days ago to rest. None of them got hurt as badly as you did. They all got some stitches, Seungmin's got a broken arm, and Felix has a pretty nasty concussion, but they're ok."
You sigh in relief, allowing your head to rest on Chan's shoulder.
The nurse comes back in, a folder filled with paperwork in hand. "As soon as you fill these out, you'll be good to go! Your medications and dosages are in this little baggy. You had some lacerations on your side, but we just covered them with butterfly bandages. The stitches on your neck can be taken out at your next appointment. Just be weary of them as you go about your day, try not to turn your head too quickly," she instructs, handing over the paperwork.
Within a few minutes, everything is filled out and you've been put in a wheelchair. Chan stands behind you, wheeling you out towards the van. Hyunjin carries your crutches from beside you, and Changbin holds your medicine and the paperwork.
Getting in the car was a hassle all in itself, as your leg felt like a million pounds with the cast on it. Your hip was so sore from laying in bed for so long, so you opted to have Chan lift you into the car.
Once finally settled, you lean back against the seat and close your eyes. You don't want to admit it, but you know these next few months are going to be difficult.
~ ~ ~
It's been a few weeks now, and things have started to go back to how they were before the accident. This is the first regularly scheduled week since then, and you're grateful for the normalcy.
Your managers had put everything on hold for a while, allowing you and the rest of your members to recover some. They knew it was a difficult time for all of you, and you were thankful for their leniency.
You have been spending most of your time on the downstairs couch, lounging around in front of the T.V. Various members would join you throughout the day, helping you with whatever you needed. Chan has certainly been the most doting, running at your every beck and call.
Today was no different; Chan decided to stay home with you while the rest of the members went to dance practice. He knew it'd probably put him behind, but they weren't set to perform for a good while, so he'll just catch up a different day. Plus, he knows Minho can handle them all just fine without him there.
The two of you are lounging on the couch, watching one of your favorite T.V shows, when Chan gets up to use the bathroom.
You hear the door close, and realize now's your chance. Your stomach's been growling for the past hour, but you didn't want to make Chan make you something.
However, you are done being the world's longest lounging couch potato, so you rise to your feet, grabbing your crutches from beside you, and make your way into the kitchen.
You know you don't have long before Chan finds you, so you ravage through the fridge quickly to try and find something to eat. You see your leftovers from the other night neatly packed away, so you grab those.
You carefully set your crutches down, leaning them on the counter next to you before hopping, leftovers in hand, to the microwave.
Unfortunately, the rug in front of the sink slips beneath you, and you fall onto the ground, your leftovers opening and spilling out onto you.
"Oh for fuck's sake," you sigh. Thankfully, you're not hurt, your butt just a little sore, but some of the sauce now decorates your cast.
You hear the door fling open from down the hall, and a frantic Chan bursts into the kitchen a mere second later. "What are you doing?" he's panicked as he rushes over to you, his arms looping under yours to pull you up.
"I was just going to heat these up because I was hungry, but then I slipped. I'm fine," you lightly push Chan away from you, knowing fully well that you can stand on your own.
He looks slightly taken back by your attitude, but nevertheless moves towards you again. He wraps his arms around you in an attempt to pick you up, no doubt to carry you back into your permanent spot on the living room couch, but you give him a firmer shove this time. "Did I hurt you?" he worries, his eyebrows scrunching.
"No, I just want to walk to the bathroom myself and get cleaned up," you explain, doing your best to keep your composure.
"I can help, let me grab you a wash rag for your cast," he bends down next to you, rummaging through the cupboard.
"Chan, please," you sigh. As much as you loved being babied at first, enough is enough. "I need some time by myself. I love you guys, but I'm not sure I've had a moment alone since the accident." Your arms are crossed as he stands, a pout forming on his face.
"But we just want to help you," he says, puppy-dog eyes on full display.
"And I thank you for all you guys have done the past month, but I really need to start doing things for myself again," you reach past him, grabbing your crutches and head down the hall to your bathroom. "Now to get this sauce off me," you mumble as you push the door open with the end of your crutch.
~ ~ ~
You're laying on your bed later in the day, knee propped up on a plump pillow to help alleviate some of the pain from your aching leg, when you hear a knock on door.
You tell them to come in, and the door opens to reveal Chan. "Hi," he's timid as he walks in. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, a guilty look on his face.
"What's up?" you ask, sliding your bookmark into the crease of your novel.
"I wanted to apologize on behalf of all of us. We've been really clingy since the accident, and we didn't realize we were overstepping."
"Chan," you sigh, adjusting yourself to sit next to him. "Please don't beat yourself up about this. Honestly, I was just a little frustrated earlier and took it out on you. You guys have helped me more than you know these last few weeks. I really don't mind all the doting."
His eyes light up at that. "Really?" his voice is giddy, and you regret that you were the cause of his sadness before.
While the overprotectiveness really did get on your nerves a bit, if it brings them that much happiness to take care of you, you suppose you can get past your grumpiness and let them do it.
"Really."
"Guys, she changed her mind!" he yells, and not even a second later, your door swings open, seven smiling faces staring back at you.
They hurry into your room, clumsily fighting each other to sit on your bed. They're still cautious of your leg, but they all manage to fit, even if a little squished.
"Don't make me regret this," you joke, ruffling Seungmin's hair from where he's laid out on your lap.
"You know you love us," Chan comments, smirking at you.
"I certainly do."
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ssahotchnerr · 4 months
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could we maybe get some momfriend!reader and jack dynamics, maybe from before her and Aaron were even together?
something special
<333 cw; fem!bau!reader, very tiny blood description (& yes i know you're supposed to wash a paper cut right away but for the sake of the setting and aaron being cute i didn't include that step 😭), mentions of haley, mutual pining
"whatcha drawing?" you asked mid-writing, your pen flying across your paper but still finding the opportunity to peek over.
"spiderman and superman." jack replied happily, switching from a red to a blue crayon. "see, they're teaming up to fight the bad guy because he keeps doin' crimes."
about an hour or so ago, jessica had dropped off jack at the bau. long story short; she was called into work urgently and with aaron in a meeting, you were quick to volunteer yourself to keep him company. rather than cramming into the small space of your desk, and jack potentially hearing conversations or details not fit for a six year old, you've made home in the roundtable room. you could work, jack could color.
you had also fired off a quick text to aaron; letting him know jack was with you, a brief synopsis of the situation and where he could find you both once his meeting concluded. it had, and he was about to join, but found himself pausing outside the door, listening to your easy, lighthearted conversation for just a moment.
when it came to you and jack, there was just something about it. something extraordinarily special.
"i see," you nodded along to jack's words, an encouraging smile on your face. "that's really good. since when did you become an artist?"
"since always." jack grinned proudly.
"then you have to promise you'll make me a drawing soon. my desk is pretty boring, i need something to brighten it up." you held out your pinky, eyebrows raised. "promise?"
"i promise." jack linked his pinky with yours, and turned back to his masterpiece with renewed vigor.
a sense of warmth filled aaron's chest, the ends of his lips turning upwards into a faint smile at the natural bond you and jack had developed so quickly, over the course of a few weeks. deciding it was as good a time as ever to join, aaron reached out to fully open the door when a wince-gasp came from jack, stopping him.
"oh no," your head turned. "paper cut?"
jack nodded meekly, grimacing as his gaze shifted to you. his big, sweet eyes were tearful, "it stings."
"can i see?" he offered his hand limply, hanging downwards at the wrist. you cradled his small hand in yours; it was just a tiny cut - no more than a few centimeters, a faint line of red gradually seeping to the surface.
"hm, well," you huffed a breath, turning his hand face-up face-down - vaguely exaggerating the examination. you got up to retrieve the first-aid kit stationed in the room, aaron sidestepping a bit to keep out of potential view. "i think luck was on your side today, i don't think we'll have to amputate this time." you spoke with an airy tone, quick to bring light to the situation. it worked, jack stifling a laugh as you retook your seat. "nothing a bandaid can't fix."
there was the click of kit opening, a slight shuffle of what sounded like paper.
"and don't tell anyone i told you this," you applied a bit of ointment onto the bandaid before wrapping it onto his finger - not too tight or too loose, all to avoid cutting off circulation and to let the wound breathe. "we gotta keep extra band aids around because your dad always seems to get one himself."
"dad gets paper cuts? really?" jack's eyes widened in surprise.
just as his son, a breathless chuckle exited aaron; that wasn't necessarily true, but your intentions were clear: cheering jack up.
in addition, the last time he had heard someone talking to or interacting with jack like this - empathetically, attentively, motherly, was, well... haley.
it touched the usually unattended part of his heart that had been vastly empty since the divorce. since that one, horrible day. while the emptiness still lingered, you had made a pull at it. for a moment, you had healed it, even.
again, there was just something special about you. and again, the only way aaron could describe it was extraordinary.
"really." you nodded convincingly, tossing the little plastic scraps into the nearby trash bin, giving top of jack's hand a consoling pat. "it happens all the time."
aaron mentally rolled his eyes at that, a smile itching at his lips.
jack picked up his brown crayon, pain forgotten, eager to get back to his drawing. "i'm gonna draw daddy and put a bandaid on him. he's a superhero too, y'know?"
"yeah," your smile was rather bashful, your tone of voice so admirable it caused a blush to rise in aaron's cheek. "i know."
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theemporium · 7 months
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Max didn’t think it was possible to miss somebody this much, and yet, he had spent the best part of the last month feeling like somebody caved his chest in for every second he was apart from you.
He missed you. He missed you so fucking much. He missed you so much that the second the grand prix had ended, he rushed through the podium ceremony and media duties so he could speed to the airport and get on the private jet straight back to Monaco. 
However, flying back from the States was no easy feat and it meant that it was firmly into the early hours of the morning by the time he landed.
The apartment was dead quiet when he arrived, the lights turned off and the only sound being the distant nightlife of Monte-Carlo many floors beneath the apartment. He left his bags by the floor to deal with in the morning, his shoes and jacket following the same fate as he made his way towards your shared bedroom, briefly pausing to greet Sassy and Jimmy. 
It shouldn’t have been a shock that you were asleep considering it was almost three in the morning, but it still made him deflate a little when he pushed the bedroom door open and found you fast asleep on the bed. 
But what made his chest tighten was the fact you looked as though you were trying to stay awake for him. You were engulfed by one of his hoodies that rested down your bare thighs, clinging onto his pillow with a book resting by your head—one he knew to be your current read. 
His lips twitched upwards with a soft smile as he moved closer to you, shedding off his shirt and jeans with the intention to just curl up beside you and fall asleep with you after a month of only seeing you through a screen. 
But by the time he settled in behind you, you were already gravitating towards him and pushing back against him. He gripped your hips, but you kept moving towards him until his hoodie had shifted, and the peak of white cotton panties were in his vision. 
“Shit,” he breathed out, his eyes focused on your ass as he felt his cock stir in his boxers before he lifted his gaze to your face. You were still fast asleep, body subconsciously seeking him even when you weren’t awake. 
It shouldn’t have turned him on so much. It shouldn’t have made blood rush to his cock at the fact the mere feel of his touch got you so needy. It shouldn’t have made every coherent thought in his head disappear that you submitted to him even in your sleep. 
And maybe if he was a better man, he would pull away. He would pull away and freshen up and then eventually join you in sleeping. 
But he wasn’t a better man, not one bit. 
Max gripped your hips, pulling you closer until your body was snug against his. He let out a low groan, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he slowly rolled his hips against your ass. 
His palm slipped beneath your hoodie, pressing down against your stomach as he continued to rut his hips against yours. He watched your face closely, waiting to see if you would react but you stayed fast asleep as he used you like you were his own personal toy. 
“Such a pretty girl,” he murmured, mostly to himself as he continued to grind against you. His lips traced whispered words and soft kisses along your neck, mixed between heavy pants as he slipped his hand to cup your clothed cunt and let out a groan when he felt how wet you were. 
“You like this,” he commented breathlessly, the wet fabric of your cotton panties feeling like a taunt as he felt your hips jerk a little on instinct. “Such a desperate thing, even in your sleep.”
You let out a wistful sigh, squirming against his hold as he kept you tight against him.
“Of course you fucking do,” he continued, feeling something deep in his stomach tighten when you let out a small whimper as he pressed the heel of his palm against your sensitive clit. “Because you love being good f’me, schat, don’t you?”
Another whine left your lips and he couldn’t hold back anymore. 
He pushed his boxers down his legs, kicking them off before his hands were on you again. His fingers hooked your wet panties to the side before he lifted your leg, gripping the fat of your thigh as he slowly slid inside you. 
You let out a low moan, still a little bleary and lost as you slowly blinked your eyes open. You felt hot. Much hotter than you did when you dozed off a few hours ago. And it took a few seconds before you felt the pressure inside you, so deep inside you and it was a feeling you could never get sick off.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, suddenly aware of the warmth settled behind you and the hands gripping your body before you felt his lips against your cheek. “Max.”
“Shhh, I know, baby, I know,” he panted softly, pinning your squirming hips in place as he slowly began to thrust in and out of you. “My pretty girl. My pretty, pretty girl. Doing so fucking well for me.” 
“Mmm,” you hummed, nuzzling your face against his pillow as his tempo sped up. “I—”
“I’ve got you,” he cooed, almost a little patronising as he pressed a chaste kiss on your temple. “Go back to bed, schat. Don’t worry that pretty, little head of yours.”
You whimpered but nodding, your eyes slowly fluttering shut again as he continued to fuck you from behind, as he continued to grope the cheeks of your ass and knead the fat on your thighs. He continued to fuck you as you slowly fell back asleep, trusting him enough to use you as he pleased because you were his good girl, his good little toy who wanted to please him whenever you could.
And when he reached his peak, he buried his face into the crook of your neck and let out a string of curses as he came. His chest heaved with soft pants as he tried to catch his breath, his arm winding around your middle as he pulled you close. And despite the voice in the back of his head that told him to get up, he finally had you in his hold after a whole month and he wasn’t going to let you go just yet. 
Max pulled the duvet over you both, cock still buried deep inside you as you snuggled back against him and let the Dutchman fall asleep only minutes after you, with his chest finally feeling weightless for the first time in a month.
.
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rinhaler · 5 months
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DEATH IS NO MORE !
you know you shouldn't be here, right? what would possess you to visit an underground fight club? one of the fighters is kinda cute though...
✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ underground fighter!ryomen sukuna x f!reader
Genre: porn with a plot Notes: ty penny for beta reading again! picturing sukuna like this art by @innaillus bc i have had nothing else on my mind for days. Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, violence, blood ♡, daddy!kink, size difference ♡, age gap, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanks, dacryphilia, finger sucking, vaginal sex, choking ♡, creampie, squirting ♡, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby). Words: 10k
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As your heels snap against the pavement, you can almost feel the pulsing bass from the music surge from your toes and throughout your entire nervous system. The music is loud enough to hear, even from a distance, and it only gets louder as you step closer and closer to the abandoned warehouse.
You shouldn’t be here.
The voice is yours, internally. Though it feels like an out of body experienced as you venture head first towards a destination you have no business being anywhere near. The music muddies your thoughts. It’s confusing you, deeply.
Is there a dress code?
That doesn’t matter, because you shouldn’t be here.
The bass is hypnotic. That pounding bass that makes you feel weak and ethereal all in one dizzying bout. It’s like you’re going to a rave, though you’re not even close to being dressed the part. You’ve been at work all day. The last thing you should be doing is trespassing into a building that has been off limits for five years.
You just couldn’t resist, this.
Not with the rumours flying around and the hushed whispers of secrecy luring you in to investigate for yourself.
With the double doors in sight, you finally see that the entrance is being manned. Is it security or just a ticket holder? You aren’t sure you want to find out. They might take one look at you and shoo you away. There’s no way you can leave until you get what you came for.
You slip out of sight as you see another pair of men get out of a car parked near the entrance and approach. Your breathing is egregious, though you try to calm it. The adrenaline swirling through your every vein and muscle is enough to make you pass out. But the agonising desire to enter and see the truth for yourself is holding you steady.
$100 for a ticket.
“Christ.” you whisper to yourself.
You put your hand in your pocket and fish out your purse. As you open it and begin to look, you halt. The way your hands are trembling is abnormal, even for being this worked up. The pumping of your heart transfers to your brain. The pink, mushy organ pounds dramatically against the inside of your skull, and really, you think melodic beat of the music inside must be slithering its way into the creases of your braincells.
There’s a pain behind your eyes. You feel a migraine coming on and you’re all too familiar with the agonising feeling as you often leave your work days suffering from them.
You deepen your breaths in a bid to steel yourself. And eventually, you find the money to pay the fee. So you wait, patiently, for the other two men to enter the warehouse before you reveal yourself from the shadows. There’s an air of confidence to you as you approach the entrance.
Though it fades, slightly, as the man holds his hand up like a crossing guard.
“Women don’t come around here,” he starts, checking a clipboard that looks too small in his comically large hands. He flips through the pages and then looks at you again. “You’re not on the list.”
“I have the fucking money.” you tell him, slapping it on top of his stupid clipboard hard enough for him to almost drop it. He tries to stop you as you attempt to barge by him, though it isn’t a strict action.
More like a warning.
“It’s not a sight a lady should see, I think.” he tells you, still putting your hard earned money into a tin of other generous donations, you expect. His eyes focus on your own as he continues to speak. “You’re rich. Expensive clothes… shouldn’t have worn those here. Gets messy. Be careful.” he tells you. And with that, you enter the warehouse and heed his warning.
You walk slowly, but with purpose. A chill stabs down your spine as you approach a flight of stairs a group of men are running down. They wolf whistle upon seeing you and it curdles in your stomach. You try to keep your head held high as you climb and follow the sound of that intoxicating bass. Wherever the music is coming from is surely the source of the action, too.
The time of day is indicative of the lighting. It’s pitch black outside and it it’s even darker, still, in the warehouse. Though the moonlight manages to break in through the shattered windows enough to illuminate your path.
There’s a smell that you’re beginning to notice that invades your senses. A potent stench that is so specifically masculine and territorial. It’s sweat. Blood, too.
Once you get to the top of the stairs, there are double doors with a red light bleeding through the cracks. The music is louder, too, as well as the vociferous shouting being contained solely by the big, heavy duty doors.
And now, truly, you worry things have gone too far. The doors part and you slink into the shadows, still approaching without hesitation. You’re scared. God, terrified, really. But the adrenaline keeps you from retreating. There’s one goal you have in mind, and once complete, you can return back to your peaceful, suburban life.
A man holds the door as he waits for a friend to leave with him. You watch them walk away together, bragging about their earnings before you slip inside inconspicuously.
The red light contrasts from the rest of the building. And you think your retinas might explode from the change, you don’t let it divert your attention, though. But it’s hard to deny how distracted you are.
As the atmosphere has changed you begin to feel heady from the scent of sweat and testosterone. You do your best to continue undetected as you try to keep to the edges of the crowd. But a few eyes find you. Nudging and laughing when they see a woman, God forbid, enter their sacred male space. You notice there’s no malice mostly. It’s more leering and ogling despite doing all you can to not give them any attention or feed into their sex drive.
But you scream.
Scream could even be an understatement as you feel a tight squeeze on your upper arm flesh yank you away from the crowd and into the background of the room. Your adrenaline seems to die the instant one red eye matching the ambient lighting filling the room like a brothel in a red light district stare into yours.
Half of his face is covered by some sort of black mask.
Protecting his battle wounds, you assume.
There are a few laughs and stares before they’re pulled back to the main attraction. There’s a feeling of embarrassment rushing through you, but you can barely dwell on it as you look up at the man who had dragged you away so carelessly.
He’s easily the tallest man you’ve ever met. At least 6’5 and towering above you like you’re a puny child as you try and stand confidently beneath him. But the little gasp you emit when he bends down to whisper in your ear gives you away, instantly. He smirks, knowing just how scared you are. He knows just how worried you are and how out of your depth you are.
“And just what is a fragile little thing like you doing in my club?” he asks, a tantalising lilt in his words that would have your knees folding like outdoor furniture if you didn’t have one reason and one reason alone for being here. He pulls away from your ear, an intimidating glare staring back at you as he waits for an answer. “You don’t look like you can fight. Not that I’d allow it, anyway.” he tells you.
“I’m looking for someone.” you blurt out, unsure if you should have said that or kept it to yourself. It’s too late, now, and you see a sadistic smile transform his ravenous expression into one of sheer entertainment.
“Oh? Don’t tell me you’ve got a boyfriend you’re worried about fighting here.” he laughs, and it doesn’t go unnoticed how his eyes move from your face to your breasts. They’re covered, entirely. The decision to wear a turtleneck for work has come back to bite you as the sweltering heat feels enough to knock you unconscious.
It’s suffocating.
He isn’t really looking at your tits, however. His eyes instead seem to hone in on the silver necklace you’re wearing. And you can see how his eyes squint as he tries to think of anyone fighting here who’s initial begins with M before letting his dirty mind race at the thought of the letter slipping between your cleavage had you opted to wear something a little more revealing.
“You look like a cop, sweetheart. Not a good place for you to be all by yourself.” he informs you. A cop? You hadn’t even thought about how you’d stand out in that way. “I don’t need the fuzz poking around here, what do you want?” he asks, his voice a little more pointed and venomous as he raises your necklace with a single finger to toy with it.
If you weren’t so frozen in fear, you would have backed away and hid your necklace down your sweater. But you were scared, statuesque. The only movement you were able to perform was moving your lips.
A pretty trait for you to possess, he thinks.
“My brother is here, I think.” you tell him, calmly, hoping your honesty will earn you some favour in his eyes. His eyebrow quirks as he thinks about you possessing a family resemblance to anyone here. “He’s underage.”
He smiles at that. The pieces suddenly all fall into place as he knows exactly who you’re talking about. And he parts space between you both, grabbing the collar of your white, wool coat and pulling you along with him. The two of you get through the crowd with ease until you’re standing at the front.
A shriek leaves you as the losing opponent hurtles towards you, though your self-appointed escort gets in his way before your clothes can become ruined by the blood that has now smeared on your saviour’s skin. You’re sure he’s thankful that he wore a black vest so that you can’t really see the stains on it. Realistically, he probably doesn’t care, you think.
He wouldn’t be running a fight club if he cared about something as tedious as stains.
As he moves out of the way to reveal the victor, your own blood begins to simmer and spill from you. Megumi raises his arms triumphantly, spitting a glob of blood onto the ground next to the wounded man he’s evidently just beaten to a bloody, unconscious puddle. And you could tear his head off with your bare teeth with the rage that you feel.
But you can’t.
Not when the man who led you here steps into the makeshift ring of people surrounding them and hands him his earnings. And your brother smiles, gratefully, as he accepts and counts it.
“There’s someone here to see you, kid.” he tells him, tilting his head in your direction. Your foot taps against the dirty warehouse floor as you wait for him to notice you. And boy does he notice you. “Oh, are you that scared of her?” he laughs, noticing all of the colour draining from Megumi’s face as he processes the fact that you’re here. That you’re really here.
“The fuck are you doing here?!” he asks, running up to you and attempting to conceal the money as best he can. But it’s too late, you snatch it from his hand and look at him with contempt.
“Me? What are you doing here?! You’re seventeen! You’re not Tyler fucking Durden, Megumi.” you slap him upside the head and drag him away from the crowd. “I’m furious, I don’t even know where to start with you.” you tell him as you approach the heavy doors that are keeping this disgusting little community trapped in the sweaty, blood soaked room.
“Get off.” he shakes himself loose. “I left my stuff in Sukuna’s office.” he announces, leaving before you give him permission. You huff, following him up the steel stairs as you continue your onslaught of verbal abuse and anger at his sheer stupidity.
He should see a doctor, really. But you worry he’ll get in trouble if the police get involved. And he might end off worse, still, if he rats out this place and gets everyone else in trouble. It’s too much, you know you’ll have to cover for him.
You could cry, now. But you aren’t sure if it’s anger or genuine upset. And honestly, you don’t want him to see you cry over this. Weakness is not something you need him to see right now, you want to keep it together. You’re his guardian and you can’t be soft with him just because he’s your brother.
He picks up his gym bag from a locker in the room. Your eyes are laser focused on him, all of the trust you felt towards him is long gone. And now, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever be able to take your eyes off him again.
“Megumi… how did you even get involved with this?” you ask him, earning nothing more than an infuriated grunt as if you have no right asking. How dare you care about him and his wellbeing when you’re all each other have? You want to scream, to fucking scream at him for being such an idiot. “I thought you were getting bullied at school. I asked you if—”
“Drop it. Can we just go?” he asks.
“Tsk.” you kiss your teeth. Your gaze suddenly stolen as the man you can only presume is Sukuna walks into the office like he owns the place. He does. You close the distance between yourself and Megumi as his sadistic boss sits on a comfy looking chair behind an old battered desk. “Give me your phone. Go wait in the car. Do not go anywhere.” you warn him as you hand him the car keys.
He sighs, placing his phone in your hand before turning to leave. You don’t look at him, though, too focused on Sukuna to even pay him any mind.
Your blood continues to boil, bubbling under the surface of your skin as you look at Sukuna. A smarmy smirk plastered on his face as he kicks his feet up onto the desk. So, Megumi leaves. He knows better than to push you when you’re this pissed.
“Before you start, princess,” Sukuna stands back up and circles around the desk. Your eyes vibrate with fury as you watch him, backing up as he gets too close. “I didn’t force him to do this.”
“Don’t call me princess.” you tell him, shutting down the cutesy pet name in an instant the minute you get an opening to speak. You rest you hand on your hip as you point at him furiously. It’s rude, you know it’s rude, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not after seeing your little brother like that. “He’s just a kid. I don’t want him involved in this stuff, I’m trying to be a good role model and you’re fucking everything up. He’s not coming back, ban him.”
“Fuck no.” he chortles. “He might be a kid but he’s good. I pay well. ‘n I like him, I do. He’s a moody little brat but he makes me laugh and earns me a shit ton. I’m not banning him for you. Or anyone.”
“Maybe I should call the police, see what they have to say about all of this.” you threaten, immediately regretting it, when the smile drops from his face and is replaced with something akin to bemusement. He hadn’t expected you to threaten him. But the incredulous stare is soon replaced by another smile.
“You wouldn’t risk getting Megumi in trouble… nice try though.” he speaks, leaning back against his desk and crossing one ankle over the other as he folds his arms. He’s thinking. Genuinely thinking of a way to compromise. “What do you do?”
“I’m… a doctor.” you tell him. Earning a set of raised eyebrows and an amused scoff as he looks you over once more. He supposes it explains the fancy clothes and snooty attitude.
But—
“You’re too young to be a doctor, aren’t you?” he wonders.
“I’m a primary care physician.” you tell him. He nods in understanding, but you’re confused now. You shake away his questions and his interest in you before staring at him again with intent. “This needs to stop. I’m not going to call the police but I’m not letting my brother come back here, it’s too dangerous. He’s a child.”
“He’s a man, you’re babying him. He made three grand tonight, he’s earning money and staying out of trouble because he has an outlet for his anger.” Sukuna tells you. The amount of money he’s made surprises you, and you’re holding it in your coat pocket right now. He’s going to be down $100 after you take it out of his earnings, though. But still. Even you can’t deny that it’s impressive. “Stuck up princess. Snooty doctor. Think you can come in my fuckin’ club and tell me what to do? Fuck that.” Sukuna claims.
He doesn’t say anything else as he waits for you to speak. But, truthfully, you’re still thinking about Megumi. The fact that he needs an outlet for his anger is worrisome. You’ve tried to get him to see a therapist, but he isn’t interested in the least.
It’s been hard being a single parent to him when you’re too selfish and irresponsible to even look after yourself, let alone a teenage boy. He probably thinks you’re useless. You have no control over him, really. All you do is make sure he’s fed and has a place to sleep and get his school work done.
But after discovering this, you’re sure he hasn’t even been bothering to attend school.
“Oi.” Sukuna speaks, stealing your stare again as you’re finally brought out of your troubled gaze. “You’re a sheltered little princess, aren’t you? A place like this is just full of scum to you.”
“I don’t care about this.” you laugh, minimally, not really seeing the funny side but you have nothing else to offer by way of expression. He hesitates a little, seeing the defeated look in your eye. “The injuries and psychological damage these places can cause…”
“Not everyone’s got a fancy college education like you, girl.” he tells you, patronisingly, as if you don’t know that. But he doesn’t let you interrupt. “Some people need a quick buck to get out of trouble. Other’s like the thrill. But who the fuck are you to come into my club and tell us all we’re wrong? Comin’ in here in your doctor clothes… looking down your nose at us.”
“That’s not—”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’re doin’, sweetheart.” he continues. “You get to sit behind a desk all day and tell people what pills to take to feel better and then go home to your cosy house in the suburbs without a care in the world.”
“Don’t fucking patronise me.” you warn him, though you don’t have the muscle or means to back it up. He reminds you a lot of how your dad used to be. You didn’t particularly take shit from him, and you certainly won’t be taking it from Sukuna if you can help it. “If you’re letting a seventeen year old walk away with three grand, I’m sure you’re making a lot more money than I am behind my desk. I work hard. You’re lining your pockets from other people’s pain.”
“Only a little,” he smirks at that, knowing you’re right but not entirely. “I fight. I bleed.”
And you scoff. It’s so fucking archaic and you can’t help but pace around with your hands on your hips as you try and decide where to even start with that. What can you say, really? Congratulations? No, definitely not. You stop in your tracks as you realise how close he is to you, now, deciding he wanted to close the gap between the two of you while your mind was elsewhere.
You breathe a little heavier as you fall backwards onto the couch behind you while he towers above you. His eyes rake over your body as he drinks you in. The slight fear lingering below the surface, shrouded by a cloud of false confidence as you do all you can to not succumb to his intimidation.
His arms almost cage you in.
Almost.
He’d let you free yourself if you tried to escape.
But you aren’t trying.
You’re just staring into his eye.
And he likes that.
“Watch me.” he orders. The sentence is soft but with a hard, seductive edge. It’s an offer despite it sounding like a command. You aren’t sure what he’s asking you to watch but your heart rate is imploring you to decline, whatever it may be. He tilts his head, it’s barely noticeable, and somehow you do notice. You notice the way his eye flits from your eyes to your lips. Not once, multiple times. He has no shame, he doesn’t care that you know he’s looking. He doesn’t act on it, anyway. “Watch me fight.”
“Pardon?” you ask, instantly. Bewildered that he would even dare to dream that you’d do something so idiotic. Your brother is waiting, patiently, for you to take him home. Unless he’s stolen your car, of course. But you’d like to think he knows he’s in enough trouble than to do something so stupid.
“You’ve never seen a fight. Watch the best at work, you might change your opinion. Watch me.” he repeats.
He watches as your eyes glaze over with a watery sheen, smirking. There is a breeze left in the wake of him quickly freeing your body from his caging arms and heading towards the entrance to his office. Your breathing is intense and your hands begin to shake. You think to text Megumi and check he’s okay, before remembering that you have his phone.
You look over your shoulder to see Sukuna leaning over the railing. He’s yelling about something but your ears are ringing in your confusion. The music isn’t helping, either. You look down at your phone to check the time, not even really taking it in before you place both Megumi’s and your own in each of your pockets.
Sukuna returns, entering with a cool swagger before leaning on the edge of his desk again.
“You’ve got ten minutes to decide.” he tells you.
Decide?
You’ve already decided. There’s no way you’re sticking around to watch him beat someone within an inch of their life. Or vice versa if his opponent proves to be too much. But with his physique and confidence, you doubt he’ll lose. And almost as if he’s read your mind, he smirks.
“I’m going to win.” he informs you, a cocksure grin saturating his lips as he drinks in your reaction to his words. You cross a leg over the other and fold your arms, still determined to remain and appear defiant as you listen to him. He can sense you’re weakening resolve, though. “I always win, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” you remind him, and he tuts in response. You can’t tell him what to do. You can try, but he won’t listen. And he hears the wavering in your words. Your desire to appear cold and callous towards him crumbling the longer you spend time in such close proximity to him.
“I think you like it.” he tells you, smiling. “Why are you still here?”
“I’m thinking.” you tell him in turn, scowling as you decide whether or not to leave right now or actually think this through. If you leave, you know your pride won’t allow you to change your mind.
“Don’t have all night for you’re thinkin’, doll.” he speaks. “Oh… I know, how about we make a little wager?”
“No.”
“Awe, c’mon, live a little.” he laughs, menially. He smirks as he hears you gasp whilst lifting you up like you’re nothing. He sits you down on his desk and for some reason you find yourself tightly wrapping your legs around his waist. Your chest heaves, panicked from the process. You aren’t sure how that happened and you can’t seem to shake any of it away. Not when your fingernails are digging into his biceps and your lips are ghosting each other’s. What is he doing? “How about if I lose, I’ll tell Megumi he can’t come around here anymore.”
“You said you’ll win.”
He smirks, at that. Scarred hands nip and grab at your entirely covered flesh. He wishes he could just rip the material off you right here, right now. But he wouldn’t feel right about sending you to your car in torn clothing, telling your little brother exactly what kept you busy for so long.
“That, I did…” he speaks as if recollecting an ancient memory. But he looks at you, eyes traversing your body again. “So what—”
“’m not betting with you. I know you’re gonna win.” you tell him, moving your head back slightly so your lips are no longing tracing each other. Instead, you’re looking at him intently. “You’re just trying to get me to agree to something that I won’t be able to back out of. ‘m not stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid.” he agrees. He tucks some hair behind your ear and grabs your chin so that you can’t break your stare from his own. “I know we both want the same thing right now, though. That pride will do you no good, y’know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie, feigning ignorance as the heat between your legs begins to pool and seep into your panties. You hope he doesn’t notice. God you hope he doesn’t fucking feel it. You hope that your trousers will protect you, the fight should be starting soon. “I’m taking my brother home… but I hope you enjoy your little fight.”
“You’re not going anywhere or you would have left already.” he tells you, matter-of-fact. “The things I could say… I’m gonna say it all after I win.”
“I won’t be here. ‘n I’m not giving you my number.”
“You’ll be in the front fucking row watching me.” he sneers.
You inhale a sharp breath as he forcefully moves your head. A finger hooks into the collar of your turtleneck, lazily pulling it downward to reveal the bare skin of your neck. His lips are close, breath dancing over the expanse of your skin. It’s a battle to withhold the shudder that is creeping through your veins. It makes your eyes water, a tear threatens to spill but you refuse to let it. You weld your eyes shut as he continues to torment you, and they appear even more watery when you open them again. The way your body trembles is harder to mask, though it’s nearly imperceptible as you accept you need to release it. All you can do is hope that he hasn’t noticed.
But he does.
The intensity of your breathing increases as you think he might kiss your neck. Your eyes flutter shut in preparation, but all he does is tease. And when you feel a near empty chuckle fan across your neck, your eyes widen once more.
“It’s time, princess.” he tells you, pulling away completely. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, heading towards the exit to his office before turning back to face you. “Come.”
And like you’re a voice activated toy, you follow him. He quick steps down the stairs while you struggle in your heels. You cling to the railing as you descend, and he waits patiently for you at the bottom.
He’s agnate to a God in this warehouse. You see how people respect and admire him as he enters the room. People part for him so that he can walk through with ease with you in tow. You’re really going to watch an authentic fight.
You wonder how different it will be in comparison to movies. You’re scared, shaking, but part of you is telling you that you need to see it. You need to see the state that Megumi could one day end up in if you don’t scold him correctly.
“Should I go easy on him, sweetheart?” he asks, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “She’s going to decide your fate tonight, listen up.” Sukuna tells his opponent. You want to kill him yourself for drawing everyone’s attention to you. You struggle to find words, mouth drying every time it opens.
“Just… don’t kill him.” you shrug. “But don’t get yourself killed, either.”
He laughs, shrugging his shoulders too. Neither of them look scared, though you suppose that’s the point. Neither of them would be doing this if they didn’t think they could win. They wouldn’t be here if they were afraid of getting hurt.
“She wants me to go easy on you…” Sukuna smirks.
You watch, nervously, as they circle around the ring for a while. He looks at you, briefly, as you fiddle with your necklace as you try and occupy your mind.
A ragged breath leaves you as they both lunge at each other. The way Sukuna dodges and weaves away from each and every attempt that should be hitting him is almost like watching a beautiful ballet.
It’s art, here.
Between these walls and amongst this audience. It is a true art form that is celebrated and enjoyed. The casualties don’t matter, not even a little. Everyone is a willing participant, even you, now. You could have left but decided not to.
It’s for Megumi, you tell yourself.
You need to be better and act better for him. And you can’t possibly do that without the knowledge of how truly dangerous this can be.
But now, seeing it for yourself, you’re starting to understand.
Sukuna is strong. Heavy fists affix themselves to his opponents face again and again until he’s on the ground. Blood pours from the man’s nose and you think he might suffocate from lost teeth and gurgling blood pooling in his throat.
And Sukuna… he’s been starved of this.
You start to think that maybe he doesn’t fight as regularly as he claims. It seems too easy for him, now. No one can beat him, so what’s the point? But he has missed this feeling. The feeling of seeing blood gush from an adversary who whole-heartedly believed they could take him on.
He takes pleasure in it, violence. Particularly the brand inflicted by him. He profits from it regularly, but this is a rare treat nowadays. He’s happy to sit in his office and let idiots do what idiots do as long as his pockets and wallet fill with each event.
This fight… it was on a whim.
Was it just to impress you?
He straddles his opponent as he repeatedly smashes the same fist into his face again and again and again. And he’s laughing. It’s maniacal, borderline insane laughter as you see blood spatter and clots form and congeal against the poor man’s skin.
And why…
Why are you loving this?
You can practically feel hearts and glitter adorning your eyes as you watch on in horror, unable to turn away. You’re mesmerised by it. You should be ashamed, really, you’re meant to be a doctor.
If you were a good person, you’d be breaking this up. You’d be rushing to the man’s side and calling an ambulance to help him. Instead of watching on in astonishment, you should be doing all you can to keep him alive after such a vicious assault. But instead, you’ve sunken to the balls of your feet so that you can be on their level and watch each and every punch land with excruciating detail. You don’t want it to stop. You could watch this forever.
Watch him forever.
You’re sick.
This is sick.
“Sukuna!” you yell, standing upright again and looking down at him. He stops short of landing one final blow to his opponents bulging and split nose so that he can look up at you. There’s worry in your eyes, and it makes his brows furrow. His eyes squint as he examines you. He isn’t sure how to read you or what you might be thinking. But he realises worry isn’t the only thing lingering behind those glimmering, wide eyes.
Something else entirely resides there that he’s longed to see since the moment he set eyes on you.
“Sorry, I got carried away.” he speaks down to the near dead man beneath him. “Were you done or did you want to keep going?”
“D… Don—”
“Thaaaaat’s great.” he responds to the man’s choked attempt to end the fight. Sukuna jumps to his feet, barely a scratch on him, and walks by you without looking back. You hasten behind him, almost unable to keep up in your stupid shoes. You see a man hand him something before walking away. You scrunch your brows as you look between them both.
Oh, he’s been paid.
He reaches the top of the stairs to his office and holds the door open for you to pass through. You duck by him, hiding in the room like you shouldn’t be there. You shouldn’t. You feel so small and inconsequential when you’re near him.
It’s his height, you realise.
It’s effortless intimidation. He’s a giant and you have to crane your neck just to look up at him when he’s close to you. His giant frame and bulging muscles don’t put you at ease, either. If you make him mad enough, you wonder how far he’d go. Would he use his strength to his advantage? Maybe he’d just take pity on you.
“You’re still here.” he rasps, locking the door behind himself and closing the blinds to the room. He likes the privacy as he counts his money. It excites you, for some reason, to see so much in a big fat wad. He looks up at you briefly before focusing back on it. “You liked it.”
“No.”
“Yeah ya did,” he laughs. You watch him as he collects a heavy looking bag from another locker in the room. It’s different to the one Megumi used. It looks shinier, newer. Sturdier. “I can tell you liked it.”
“Well, I’m going now.” you start, turning to walk away before he stretches out an arm to stop you in your tracks. He walks you backwards until your ass collides into the edge of his desk. He doesn’t pick you up, though. He just sizes you up, slowly, purposefully. And what a pathetic size you are in comparison to him. “Megumi needs me…” you whisper, meekly.
His presence is truly all consuming as he lords above you. You’re trapped between his large frame and the tattered old desk that resides in this seedy office. He could afford something nicer. But what would be the point if the place gets raided?
“We wanted the same thing earlier,” he starts. His voice quiet but commanding, still. You look between his lips and his pressuring gaze. He smiles, at that, he can see the way your mind is running rampant with thoughts of him. The dirty criminal who wants to fuck you on his desk. “Bet ya want it even more now.”
“N-No.”
“Yes.” he argues, placing a bloody hand on your pristine coat and making a mess of it. His hand snakes around to your waist, eventually. You gasp when you feel him tug your body closer to his by your belt loops, grinning as the little noise you make hits his ears. “Stutterin’ over yours words and making pretty sounds for me, sweetheart. Did you get all excited from seeing the blood? Bet ya did… bet you’re wet from seein’ daddy get violent.”
You gulp, heartily, your breathing gets heavier the more he speaks. His words rush straight to your cunt and you can barely ground yourself. The only thing keeping you from floating is your fingers curling around the edge of the desk as he continues to tease you.
“You’re fucking frigid.” he continues. Your eyes begin to water as he undoes the button on your pants and goes to pull down the zipper. You grab his hands to stop him, though it’s in vain. “Why are you so frigid, huh? When was the last time you had a good, hard, fuck?” he asks you, each word dripping like venom in a bid to make you squirm.
“That’s none of your—”
“Stop being such a bitch.” he tells you, slight laughter leaving him as he speaks. “Let me guess… got too occupied with your career, right? Bet you had a long term boyfriend who wouldn’t know how to fuck you properly if his life depended on it. ‘n then you got saddled with the kid… bought a vibrator and a plastic cock ‘n thought that would make do… you’ve never been fucked before.”
“Stop it.” you tell him. You turn your head away but he quickly forces it back with one heavy, dominating hand. “I have to go.”
“Sure.” he agrees, not letting go or moving aside for you to leave.
Nothing is said, not another word. Several beats of silence pass by as you stare at each other. The hypnotic music continues to play outside, though it’s muffled slightly by the locked office door. It isn’t enough to mask how hard either of you are breathing. Panting. Unable to break your stare from each other as the silence, that cogent fucking silence gets louder and louder.
Not another word is spoken as his lips press roughly against your own. You kick off your shoes and he kicks them aside as you continue to kiss him. Your hands are all over his body, grabbing and squeezing his skin as you lose yourself to the feeling of his lips. He forces down your trousers so that they’re resting around your thighs before lifting you onto the desk. You moan, desperately, as he breaks the kiss to fully remove them from your legs.
He lets them fall and kicks them away in the opposite direction of your shoes. The kiss breaks once more as he laughs lightly as your hips begin to rock eagerly for him.
“Knew you were wet for me earlier, y’know.” he tells you, kissing you briefly before deciding to tease you further. “Felt how your cunt was droolin’ when I lifted you on here before.”
“You’re vile.” you tell him, not caring that much as you lock your lips with his again. His attitude, the way he talks, the way he is. It’s all so nauseatingly macho and you thought you were better than this. You thought you knew better and wanted better for yourself. But having it presented so perfectly for you… you were always going to succumb.
“You like it, you like me.” he continues, forcing your snow-white coat down your arms and off your body. The way his knuckles continue to gush blood, you expect the liquid to seep and stain the white material and paint it the same red as his eyes. “Mmmm, I’m right. Why else would you be so wet?”
The air is snatched from your lungs as he pushes your legs apart from each other one at a time. You don’t dare close them as you watch him pull his vest over his head and reveal his perfectly chiselled body in all of its glory. It’s pervasive. It’s gorgeous. You aren’t even sure it’s humanly possible to look this good.
A soft ‘unf’ sound leaves you and you feel him sink his bloody knuckles inside of your panties. Deft fingers swirl and tease around your firm clit, and your mouth seals shut.
“Tell the truth, princess.” he swipes two fingers over your clit at a heightened pace, desperate to coax another utterance of admittance from your soft lips. “You wanna get fingered by a dirty old man. Go on, let me be your bit of rough, sweetheart.”
“Fuck.” you breathe, unable to withstand his filthy mouth. You’re truly powerless to being spoken to like this. Maybe you’re tired of people speaking to you so politely day in day out.
He doesn’t respect you, though.
Right now you’re nothing but a wet, desperate hole, with a pretty face attached.
“Let daddy finger you, yeah?” he asks, and you can’t stop your eyes from filling with water. He thinks it’s adorable. How the mighty hath fallen for nothing more than a few little rubs on your neglected clit. It makes him sick, truthfully, how many precious little things like you go without being touched properly. You’re about to learn, now, just how quickly you can become addicted to a person and the way they touch you.
“I should- I r-really have to go!” you tell him, still so desperate to remain defiant to the bitter end. He knows you’re bound to crumble any second. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, but it will do you little good. Not when you are instinctively widening your legs for him. Wider than you knew they could go.
He pushes a single finger into you, hissing when he feels just how tight you really are. If he didn’t know better, he’d assume you were a virgin. He presses the heel of his palm against your clit, constantly adding pressure to the needy nub as he continuously pumps and curls his finger in and out of your sopping hole.
“Sukuna! I can’t d-do this, I shouldn’t be here.” you tell him as you wrestle with your guilt.
“This is exactly where you should be,” he tells you. “You’ll feel better when you cum f’me. Maybe you’ll stop being such a stuck up bitch.” he laughs, again, because you don’t dispute it.
No, instead, you lean back and rest your hands on the desk. Your hips roll urgently against his hand, chasing the stimulation to your clit. He looks down between you, tugging at your panties with one hand until you take the hint. You stop rutting against him, closing your legs so he can pull them down without stopping his rough touches.
They come down enough, the white lace dangling on one ankle as he forces your legs apart again. His vision meets your cunt. The way you’re swallowing one finger with ease now calls him to add another.
And you hiss from the stretch, but your humping doesn’t relent. You’re taking his fingers all of the way to the bloody knuckle until your eyes cross from the pleasure. And he grunts, at that, an attempt to conceal the moan lodged in his throat.
He revels in the way your cunt clenches as he allows a glob of spit to drip to your clit. His jaw hangs low as he massages the heel of his palm into it harder. The way you wriggle from his touch is better than any drug he can imagine existing. It’s addictive, seeing a once so proud woman regress to a needy little pet from the touch of a common man.
“D-Don’t stop.” you whisper, unsure of where that even came from. It was entirely involuntary. Your brain begins to fog as he repeatedly batters your g-spot again and again until your vision turns white. “Fuck, fuck! ‘m cumming, Sukuna! Ah- aaah~!” you cry out.
And just as it was getting good. Just as you were about to topple over the edge, he withdraws his fingers.
“You’re a real slut when you get going, aren’t you?” he smiles, landing a wet slap on your twitching pussy. You yelp, but don’t speak. “Barking orders at me like you’re in charge. Remember who’s office you’re in, now. It ain’t yours, princess. You’re spread open on daddy’s desk. Know your place.”
“I’m s-sorry.” you whimper, trying to focus and ignore the aching pulse you feel between your thighs. You need to cum, now. You need him to make you. It’s not fair, you can’t comprehend how close you were before he stopped you from reaching your high. “I’ll be good, d-daddy, just don’t… please don’t stop.” you beg, the title feels foreign on your tongue. But you don’t hate it.
He tuts, slapping your cunt again and again, repeatedly striking until tears spill from your pathetic, wet eyes.
“Fuckin’ love it when you look at me like that. Needy little whore.” he chortles, moving away from you entirely as he goes to grab something. “I’m gonna do something no one else will ever be able to do for you, jus’ because you look so pretty.”
“Wha—?”
“Lose the sweater, now. Wanna see your pretty tits,” he commands, lifting up the bag he grabbed from his locker earlier. “Hurry up. You need to be naked for this, you’ll enjoy it more.”
You do as you’re told, hurrying to strip yourself of the restricting material that has been suffocating you all night. And you toss it God knows where, breathing a sigh of relief as you feel cooler despite the sweaty heat that is trapped in the office with you.
“Good, good girl.” he smirks, unzipping the bag. You brace yourself for whatever he’s about to pull out. Some kind of sex toy, you assume. Knowing his ego, it’s probably a mould of his cock, hoping he can double stuff you.
But he doesn’t pull anything out.
Instead, he tips the bag upside down. There’s no time to think about what horrible things he could be pouring onto you. Because it doesn’t happen. Instead, you’re showered in bank notes. You laugh, excitedly, as you feel a never-ending stream over hundred-dollar bills pour over your body and onto the desk.
Sukuna laughs, too, admiring the sight of you dressed in nothing but money.
His money.
And it’s everywhere.
You writhe around on the desk before looking at him. He pulls down his sweats, hungrily, just enough to free his length. And, fuck, he’s huge. You knew he would be just by looking at the rest of him. It’s a scary sight, but you don’t care. He was right, no one else will ever be able to do this for you.
“Fuck me.” you request, opening your legs for him again. “Want daddy to fuck me stupid.” you finish.
And he doesn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers are shoved between your lips for you to suck as he lines his threatening cockhead up with your throbbing cunt. You’re too distracted by the taste of his fingers to properly react to how he stretches your hole.
The taste of copper stains your tastebuds along with the flavour of your essence. He watches you, intently, as he bullies his cock all of the way to the hilt without remorse. Though he hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath while examining you, panting desperately when he’s fully sunken into your restricting walls.
“Took that like a champ,” he praises you, withdrawing his fingers from your lips and opting to squeeze the sides of your neck instead. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, swallowing me like this.” he smirks, thrusting his hips shallowly to help you adjust. But the composure is lost when he feels how tight you’re wrapped around him. Like you’re claiming what yours as if he belongs inside, buried deep in your cunt to depths no one has been before.
He's yours.
“Fuuuu—” you start, cutting yourself off as you pout and groan through every pummel of his hips against yours. “Daddy! D-aaddy!” you wince, unable to believe how perfectly each vein adorning his cock stimulates you so beautifully. His leaking tip serves as a painful reminder to how irresponsible you’re being to fuck a literal stranger raw.
But you don’t care.
You honestly don’t care as you think about the desperate desire you feel burning between your thighs for him to fill you up like you’re his. To be claimed in such a disgustingly primal way by this behemoth of a man while you just lie there and take it is the only thing higher on your list of priorities than actually getting to cum yourself.
“No one will fuck you like this again, hear me? No one.” he reminds you. And all you can do is nod dumbly as you can’t even find it in you to formulate one word on your tongue to say in response. “Not a doctor, not a lawyer. No one will fuck you in the money they earn like this. And you look so pretty, princess. Knew you’d like it, can act high ‘n mighty all you like, but you like the blood money, don’tcha?”
“Y-Yes.” you barely managed to squeak out.
“Yes what?” he repeats.
“Y-es, daddy,” you pant, forcing yourself to fix your eyes on him as you speak in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. “I l-like the money.”
“Little money slut.” he chuckles, the angle he fucks in you seeming to hit deeper and deeper the longer it goes on. “I should fuck you up against the window, let everyone see how fucked out you are. Hah? Show everyone you’re not such a stuck up princess after all.”
“N-No, please, don’t.” you beg, gasping as he pulls his cock out of you and drags you away from the desk. He pushes your face against the window and you instinctively close your eyes. Your back arches as he slots himself into you from behind, powerless to his body as he starts fucking into you again. And you’re so thankful for the blinds, despite the fact the ridges dig into your skin as he ploughs you. “Fuuuuck, ‘Kuna, fuck, s’big!” you tell him, feeling him deeper still as he hits you from behind.
“I should let them all see what a whore you are.” he laughs, fingers gripping deeply into your sides as he uses you for leverage to pull you down on his length whilst battering into you. “Pretty mouth is droolin’ for me, look like you’re gonna break.”
Your heart begins to race as he reaches for the cord to open the blinds. There’s no doubt in your mind that it’s something he’d do. You brace yourself, preparing to be put on show for all of the lecherous men below to see.
But instead, he picks you up and forces you to bend over the table again. Your feet don’t even touch the ground as rams his cock into you again and again and again.
“Megumi wouldn’t be able to live it down if everyone knew how much of a slut his sister is,” he tells you. “He’d get the shit kicked out of him every time someone described what your face looks like when you cum.”
Fuck, Megumi.
You’d forgotten all about him, waiting in the freezing cold car for you while his pseudo-boss fucks your brains out.
“Don’t,” you huff, “tell him, about this.”
“Of course not, I’ll be your dirty little secret.” he laughs. “You are a vessel for my cum and nothing more.”
You’ve never felt such self-hatred for yourself as those final, scathing words have you cumming violently around his cock. You tremor and shake as you finish, collapsing entirely onto the desk as he continues to plough into you.
“Fuck, fuck!” you cry, feeling even more embarrassment wash over you as you think you might have pissed yourself. But he gasps, amazed, admiring the stream of clear liquid gushing from your cunt drenching him and his money on the floor.
“Awe, baby just squirted. What that your first time?” he laughs, fucking into you harder so that he can follow you along in your bliss. He bends over, his mouth lining up with your ear so he can whisper more of his rendition of sweet nothings into your ear. “You’re shaking ‘cause of me. A-And now, you’re gonna have to drive your little brother home with every drop of my cum in your cunt.”
“Please, please fill me up. Need it s’bad. Wanna be full of you…” you babble, reality still not fully resonating with you as he carries on fucking into you at a brutal pace.
He grunts and moans as he cums deep inside of you. You’ve made some mistakes in your life but this has to be one of the better ones. Despite your healthcare knowledge telling you that you should know better, you’ve never felt so content as you feel him shoot rope after rope of searing hot cum into your womb.
He pulls out, wiping his dick off on your ass cheek before fingering you slowly.
“Keep my mark inside of you.” he utters, forcing you to squeeze your thighs together so you don’t waste a drop while he gathers your clothes for you.
He hands you your underwear first while he keeps looking, and you pull them up quickly. It feels so revolting and lewd as his cum leaks into the seat of your panties. You sigh as you feel the cold letter M on your chest before you can dress yourself.
“I don’t have a first aid kit here.” Sukuna speaks, not looking at you as he hands you the rest of your belongings.
“I’m fine.” you tell him, quickly pulling on your sweater and instantly feeling sick as the warm material meets with your hot, clammy skin.
“I’m not.” he tells you, watching as you pull up your trousers and fasten them in a hurry before slipping into your high heels again. “Bet you have one at home. You’re a doctor, you’ve gotta look after people.”
You eye him up, cautiously, before your expression changes to a smile. “You’re asking to come home with me?” you wonder, pulling on your coat and making sure you still have two phones in your pockets as well as your purse and Megumi’s wad of cash. “But Megumi will—”
“I’ll drive behind you. C’mon, princess, don’t want my cuts do get infected, do ya?” he asks.
You cannot believe you allowed his dirty fingers inside of you. As good as they felt, it was so stupid. You’re sure there’s probably blood stains on your inner thighs because of him.
Though the thought of him all over you makes your cheeks fill with warmth.
You just nod, opting not to speak as you head towards the office door. You walk ahead of him, finding confidence in your strides again. He puts his vest back on and makes sure he’s decent before leaving the office. He watches you leave ahead of him and stops to talk to his favourite subordinate.
“Clean the mess up there. And I’ve counted the money so don’t get cute.” he says, handing the key to the office over before following your path out.
He’s a little surprised how far ahead you’d gotten. Long gone from the building as you approach your car.
The guilt of leaving Megumi alone for so long got to you, he thinks.
“Hi.” you say, simply, sitting behind the wheel of your car and hoping not to have to talk much for the ride home. He’s a moody teenager who rarely has a word to say to you. And for once, you’re hoping it’ll stay that way. You adjust yourself and quickly put on your seatbelt so that you can drive off without another word.
“What took you so long?” Megumi asks, huffing as he looks at you. His eyebrows knit as he sees his bossapproach with a confident swagger. He wonders if he forgot something or he didn’t pay him the right amount.
Sukuna leans into his open window with a shit eating grin on his face. He wants to question it, to question you. But his eyes meet your not so pristine white coat as he turns to look at you again. “Is that blood?” he asks, eyes looking up at you as he waits for an answer.
You look down at your jacket, holding your eyes closed with a sigh as you realise what a nightmare it’s going to be to remove the stains. Megumi leans in closer to you, moving your hair out of the way as he examines you.
“Um…” you mutter, too frozen to even continue starting up the car.
“It’s on your face and neck too. What did you—?” he stops, turning around to look at Sukuna and see if he can fill in the blanks in his mind with any form of answer. But they’re filled, instantly, as his eyes fall to see Sukuna’s bloody knuckles. “For fuck sake.” he speaks, quietly, covering his face with both hands as the revelation dawns on him.
“I’ll be right behind you, lead the way.” Sukuna winks as he walks away from your car and heads towards his own.
You don’t say anything, copying your brother’s action as you both sit in silence and absorb the never-ending supply of cringe filling the atmosphere. Until eventually you decide, this won’t do. Sukuna honks the horn of his Mercedes to signify that he’s ready.
So you start to drive, fleeing the scene while your partner in crime follows behind.
“Fucking good role model you are.” Megumi speaks sarcastically. “I can’t show my face there again. Why do you ruin everything?”
“Nothing happened!” you lie, earning a scoff from him.
“Let me get this straight. You came here to tell me to stop fighting, and then you fucked the man who pays me to do it. So, am I allowed to fight or not?”
“Obviously not, Megumi.”
“You’re a fucking hypocrite.” he scathes, turning his head to face away from you while he sulks. “You can’t tell me what to do after this. Some fucking moral compass you got there.”
“Oh shut up.” you respond, trying to keep a cool head as you continue. “Nothing. Happened. I watched him fight and I hated it, we talked it out and here we are. Stop being so pissy.”
“Why’s he following us home, then?” he wonders, turning to face you and see if he can detect an honest answer or a lie from you.
“He doesn’t have a first aid kit.” you tell him, which is true though it isn’t really an answer. And you feel his green eyes burn into the side of your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “I’m a doctor, he needs his wounds tending to.”
“… Oh my God.” he starts. “Oh my God you actually fucking like him. You’re so embarrassing.” he huffs, pulling a cigarette out of his jeans. He closes the window to light it and opens it again just as quickly. You’ve never liked that he smokes, but you know nothing you say or do will stop him.
Just like the fighting.
And then, you find yourself laughing. Unable to stop yourself as you think about what a stereotypical angsty teen your little brother is. And, God, you’ve made yourself into his biggest enemy just because you care about him. But now… Christ, you’ve gone above and beyond.
“I lied. We fucked. And it was great.” you laugh harder when you see Megumi’s horrified expression the longer the conversation goes on.
“I can’t stand you.” he sighs. “He’s never gonna let me forget this. What is wrong with you?”
“Serves you right, you little shit. Lie to me again and see what happens.” you warn him, your laughter lets up a little as you try and focus on being serious.
You’re never going to be his mother, and you’d never want to be. But what you can be is his big sister. You can be an annoying pain and embarrass him whenever he acts up. But you’ll always be here to take care of him and keep him on the right track when needs be.
“I love you, shit head.” you smile, and he sighs.
“… love you too… bitch.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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love the doctor!remus content!!!
would love to read about him in a similar setting as the last request u did, where reader doesn’t tell him she‘s had to go to urgent care (maybe she lost her phone) and he‘s in his big scary attending mood but the moment he steps into the room and realizes reader is the patient he goes all concerned and cooing and all the interns are confused as to what happened to calm collected and kinda cool doctor lupin :((((
Thanks love!
cw: hospital, mention of stitches
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You can hear him talking as he moves down the line of small curtained-off rooms, your heart contracting at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice but too shy to interrupt him while he’s working. Remus’ tone is clipped and all business, and you can tell by how quickly his voice draws closer that he’s striding toward you in that brisk way he does when he’s busy. 
“This one’s already been treated,” he’s saying to someone, “so we’re just checking in before discharge. Let me ask some of the necessary questions first, and then we’ll ask the patient’s permission for you to ask some as well.” 
He looks nearly imposing as he whips open the curtain, clipboard in hand and a gaggle of what you guess must be residents on his heels. That all drains away, along with the blood in his face, when he sees you. “Dove?”
“Dove?” you hear one of the residents echo bemusedly. 
“Hi,” you say sheepishly. 
Remus steps toward where you sit on the bed, concern etched into the twin lines between his brows. “Honey, what happened? You” —he looks down at his clipboard, flustered— “you got stitches in your hand? What’d you need stitches in your hand for?” 
You glance between the many sets of eyes in the room, self-conscious in the face of so much attention. “I cut myself,” you answer quietly. 
Remus lowers the clipboard, looking devastated for you. “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, but the reprimand in his tone is barely detectable behind all the fondness coating it. He holds out a hand. “Let me see.” 
You give him your hand obediently, doing your best to follow his example and ignore the murmurings from your small audience. He’s painstakingly careful as he removes the bandages to reveal your cut. It looks far better than it had when it had been bleeding all over your car on the drive over, but Remus still coos like it's the most grievous injury he’s seen in his career. 
“Seven stitches?” His lips turn down into a pout. “What’d you do to yourself, dovey?” 
You see one resident’s eyebrows fly up at the sappy pet name, exchanging a look with the one next to him. 
“I was trying to cut up the squash I bought last week,” you explain, unsure if you’re supposed to be talking to the room but directing your words only to your boyfriend, “and my knife slipped. I was going to call you when it wouldn't stop bleeding, but my phone died. I didn’t have time to charge it before I came.” 
Remus makes a gruff, reluctant sound of approval. “Well, I’m glad you came but I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you. Did it hurt very badly?” 
“Not really,” you lie quietly, but one of the residents behind you goes, “Doctor Lupin, is that one of the necessary questions we’re meant to be asking?” 
You flush, and Remus shifts modes in an instant, his look severe as he turns on the smart aleck. “No,” he says drily. “But this is still the portion where you’re meant to be quiet.” 
You sort of feel for the resident as they nod abashedly. Remus countenance warms again as he turns back towards you. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he says, still cradling your injured hand in his.
“It wasn’t too bad.”
“Baby.” Remus’ brows scrunch together, the sympathy in his eyes almost too much for you to bear. “I can tell you’ve been crying, darling.” 
“Remus,” you chide embarrassedly, looking again to the residents gathered behind him. 
“Ah.” He drops a hand to your knee for an apologetic squeeze, turning to face your observers with more of an authoritative air. “Go find somewhere else to be,” he tells them. 
They scatter like mice, and Remus huffs when the last one out doesn’t shut the curtain, stepping away from you to draw it closed himself. 
“Sorry, I sort of forget they’re there sometimes,” he explains, but he’s already doubling down on the sweetness now that they’re gone, bringing your injured palm to his lips for a very, very gentle kiss. “Did you cry while they stitched you up, honey?” 
You might cry again now if he keeps looking at you like that. “A little,” you admit. “I was being a tad dramatic.” 
“I doubt that,” he says, thumb stroking lovingly over the line of stitches before picking up the bandage and beginning to rewrap it. “Hand wounds are no light thing. It probably bled a lot, hm?”
“There may be some cleanup waiting for me in both the kitchen and my car,” you joke. Remus gives you a small smile for your efforts. 
“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it when I get home.” He finishes bandaging your hand and leans in to kiss your cheek. When he pulls back, his eyebrows have bunched again. “You’ve got mascara tracks on your cheeks,” he murmurs, cupping your face and brushing his thumb over the plane of your cheekbone. “S’breaking my heart.” 
“Sorry,” you say bashfully, and he rolls his eyes at you, pecking you again on the cheek like he can’t help himself. 
“What’re you sorry for, hm? Well,” he seems to reconsider, “you ought to be sorry about your knife skills, but that’s an apology you owe yourself, not me. I’ll be stowing all the knives where you can’t reach them from now on, by the way.” 
“First you’ll have to deal with all the residents you just disillusioned,” you tease him back. “Seems like they used to think you were cool and blase, but not anymore.” 
Remus shrugs. “People are multifaceted. If they didn’t know that already, then I taught them something today after all.” He gives you another soft look, though it’s far less worried than the others had been. “My poor darling,” he laments, setting his hands on either side of you to plant one final kiss on your forehead. “Rest here for a bit, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes, yeah?” 
“Okay, thanks,” you agree readily, happy to have a ride home considering the state you left your car in. “Gonna go try to restore your street cred with the residents?” 
“Dove, don’t be silly,” he says on his way out. “They worship me.” 
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Text
Tell me how you hate me now (Miguel O’Hara x fem! Scientist! Reader) Drabble
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Hiiii, so I know I said I’d focus on my main series and I am! But I just had to whip this up after my comment thread from my last post. In my head I imagine this being with Miguel from the game Edge of Time but it can be any Miguel variant. Not proofread, enjoy!
Cursing, workplace enemies to lovers, the girls are arguing 🤭, make out session, slight NSFW (just some ass squeezing) but no smut.
Word count: 750
Masterlist
“O’Hara! Hey O’Hara!” You called out to the figure that sat alone in the lab room. Your irrational only building when you didn’t get a response, not even a glance in your direction. Your pace quicken, white lab coat flaring out behind you as you close the gap between you and the other scientist. Angrily dropping a Manila folder onto his desk, the force of which made a few of his own papers fly a few inches off his desk. Finally making him look up at you with huff and a scowl.
You two have been working together for the last twelve years at Alchemax, and never had you two gotten alone. Always fighting about projects, butting heads about deadlines, everything about and between you both always ended with fighting and arguing.
“Do you know what this is?” The question was rhetorical, a manicured finger pointing at the file that had the name of your last project proposal printed on top. Your angry gaze on his face never wavering as you watch his tired eyes lazily drop to the folder, before looking up at you once more rather boredly.
“Your last project proposal?” He deadpanned.
“Yes, my last project proposal.” You scoffed, “The one that got rejected because you decided to bad mouth it to Stone.” You glared at him, feeling your blood pressure rising higher than it already was as you stood up straight and crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes immediately connected with his brown ones as he turned his swivel chair to face you properly, arms coping your mannerisms as you both had a miniature stare down before he finally spoke.
“You're acting like this thing-“ he abruptly stood up, making you instinctively take a step back. Grabbing the proposal and using the back of his other hand to lightly hit the folder before dropping it back onto his desk. The pages spilling out from the hazardous manner, making your blood boil. “wasn't already garbage-“
“Garbage?!”
“Garbage.”
You had to close your eyes and take in a deep breath to stop yourself from lunging at the large man, wanting to tear him a new one. Once you were able to calm yourself down enough you looked back up at him. Despite his towering size over you, you didn’t find him all that intimidating.
“You’re just saying that because you wanted him to pick your project over mine-and don’t say I’m making shit up because you always do it, that’s how you got your project chosen last time!”
“Oh please, god forbid I don’t want to work under you for the next six months. It’s too chaotic! Just thinking about it gives me a migraine…” As if for dramatic effect, a hand goes up and he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Oh yeah, because you’re so pleasant to be working for.” You rolled your eyes, sarcasm dripping from your mouth like venom from a snake’s. “If an intern so much as breathes the wrong way, you lose it.” You're too busy ranting to notice he was making his way towards you. “And don’t even get me started on how you micromanage everything-“
You were cut off by the sudden warmth of lips on yours, eyes wide as you blinked yourself back into the current moment. You had to be dreaming right? Why else would Miguel be kissing you. You didn’t even get to fully process the action before you felt his large hand slip to the small of your back, gently guiding you to make sure you didn’t trip over your own feet as he pushed you up against the wall.
Yeah you weren’t dreaming.
He licks your bottom lip in a silent plea to let him in, you couldn’t help but to melt into the kiss. Once the initial shock finally wore off, your body began to feel hot all over. Eyes flickering shut as your hands landed on his chest, running up to lock around his neck, no doubt leaving wrinkles in their wake. His hand came down to give your ass a firm squeeze, making you involuntarily moan at the movement.
You felt like you could drown in him, he pulled away for air before you got the chance too.
“Been wanting to kiss that pretty mouth shut for a long time.” He admitted between heavy breaths, “tell me how you hate me now with my tongue down your throat.” He taunted playfully, before closing the gap between your lips once more.
Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho
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reminiscingtonight · 2 months
Note
Russo: derby, concussion, care
Derby Day (Alessia Russo x Reader)
[WOSO Masterlist]
“But it’s the North London Derby!”
Alessia huffs and sinks lower on the couch.
“A little blood never hurt anybody.”
Beth doesn’t make eye contact.
“You don’t get it. You’re not a footballer.”
Leah opens her mouth but quickly shuts it when she sees the look on your face.
The three of them are in various shapes, one with an egg on her forehead, another with two icepacks strapped to both ribs, the last with a makeshift ankle brace constructed out of the finest frozen peas from your freezer.
“Honestly, if someone came in here right now they’d think I abused you all!”
Alessia turns her pleading eyes towards Viv but gets no help from the Dutch woman. “She did warn you guys.”
You’re pacing back and forth in front of the three of them. You’ve all been in this position since Viv tried to drop Alessia off at home nearly an hour ago. You took one look at the broken carpool and all but ordered the four gunners into your house.
A last minute work mishap made you miss out on the derby day, but that didn’t stop you from dropping Alessia off at the Emirates before the game. Beth and Leah met the two of you with grins, all but waving off your words of caution before sweeping your girlfriend away.
“I highly recall telling you to take care of yourself, Alessia, did I not? And what was it that you said back to me?”
Your girlfriend mumbles sweet nothings into her sweatshirt, nearly disappearing into the massive thing. You’re sure if she had it her way she’d melt right into the couch.
“Louder! I can’t hear you.”
Your attention’s quickly taken away when you hear Leah’s not-so discrete snickering. She pales when she makes eye contact. 
“Unless the next words out of your mouth is apologizing for not keeping my girlfriend safe like you promised, you shut that mouth, Leah Cathrine.”
Beth snorts before realizing her mistake. 
Your nose flares angrily. “And what do you have to say for yourself? Getting sent off for something as stupid as blocking the keeper’s kick? Honestly, Viv must have the patience of a saint, putting up with you.”
The brunette’s sitting on the other side of the room, watching everything with thinly concealed amusement. A small tweak had her watching the game from the stands. Of course there’s nothing more fun that playing in a North London Derby, but with the high fouls and flying boots that unfolded at the stadium today, Viv would be lying if she said she wasn’t glad to be a spectator. Especially if being sidelined saved her a lecture from you.
There’s another hot reprimand on the tip of your tongue when you feel a gentle tug on your sleeve.
“Babe?”
Alessia’s got the widest eyes, frown set upon her lips as she tries to appeal to your soft side. You’re still mad, but you try to lower your temper at the clear discomfort written across her face.
“My head really hurts. Can I go to bed?”
When Alessia got hurt it took everything in your power not to drive straight to the stadium. Viv had texted you a quick update when Alessia was being checked out, reassuring you that it looked worse than it actually was.
You couldn’t stop yourself from replaying the video over and over, heart breaking every time you watched her head bounce off the ground. But you chose to believe your friend, waiting with nerves while you awaited your girlfriend’s return.
Though all that worry flew right out the door when you caught sight of the other two injured girls. 
“Well I think that’s our cue!” Beth takes her chance to leap forward, hands pulling at her vice captain to follow her. “Goodnight, Russo, Mrs. Russo--” 
Beth chokes on her words when you grab ahold of her collar, stopping her before she can take another step towards the door.
“Now where do the two of you think you’re going?”
The two blondes exchange nervous looks. 
Leah clears her throat. “Home?”
She swallows hard at the hollow laugh you let out.
“Nice try. Captain Nothing’s-Wrong and her sidekick,” you ignore the dirty look Beth gives you at her assignment, “congratulations, thanks to your clear inability to follow the simplest of instructions, the two of you have won yourselves the Alessia Russo night watch shift.”
And with that, you take a seat next to Viv, turning on the TV to something random while you ignore the three cries of protest.
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roosterforme · 4 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 43 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: While you couldn't stop people from talking about you and Bradley, you could absolutely stand up for yourself and your family. Bradley continued to prove that he was the man of your dreams, and you decided to show him some spur of the moment appreciation. Bradley loves you, and he recognizes that spending time with you and Noah always fills his heart to the brim.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, oral sex, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4400 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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There was no way you were going to tolerate someone talking about you like you were a brainless child who didn't deserve to be with your boyfriend. You hadn't forgotten about those engagement rings you saw on Bradley's phone. You spent half of your time thinking about Noah. Both of them were yours.
As your skirt fabric fell from your hands, you squared your shoulders and unlatched the stall door. Your heart was thudding in your chest, but it was too late now. You were met with startled eyes from the three woman, and you took a second to examine each of them in turn. You saw nothing special. You saw ordinary women who should find something else to do with their time instead of gossiping about you.
You walked right up to the sink, and they scooted out of your way as you washed your hands and dried them with one of the rolled up hand towels. After you dropped it into the discard basket, you carefully examined your still pristine makeup one last time as they stared at you in the mirror. Then you took your dark lipstick out of your pocket, swiped a little more on and pressed your lips together.
"What?" you asked, making eye contact with the redhead as you pocketed it again. "The three of you have nothing to say now?" When you were met with silence you stepped away from the sink and shrugged at the woman with black hair. "I guess I should go get my Daddy to take me home since it's past my curfew." 
You pouted a little bit and rolled your eyes when they still said nothing. But when the one who had been the most verbally aggressive toward Bradley, going so far as to threaten to touch him, opened her mouth to speak, you didn't let her. "By the way, if you want to 'accidentally' bump into my boyfriend, be my guest. There's no way he'd ever touch you otherwise."
She gasped at you as you stepped past her and made your way to the door without rushing. You didn't stick around for a response as your blood pumped hot and hard through your veins. Bradley was the only thing you wanted at the moment, and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning as you thought about him. 
There he was, right where you left him, still talking to Natasha. When you got close enough, you could hear her telling Bradley, "I'm not leading him on, Rooster. He knows what this is. Just because you were looking for your soulmate and actually found her doesn't mean that's everyone's mission."
She smiled at you as you wrapped your arms around Bradley's waist. His forearm settled across your shoulders without hesitation as he said, "I hate that I have to be nice to you since you're the one who put that fucking dating app on my phone to begin with. Now please don't come whining to me when you break Javy's heart."
She poked his hat so it was crooked before walking away, and then you saw the three bitchy women from the restroom, and of course they were looking right at you. When you smiled at them and wiggled your fingers in a little wave as Bradley kissed the top of your head, they all turned away. 
"Hey, Daddy. Who are those women?" you asked, gesturing in their direction. 
He looked at them with a completely blank expression as he said, "The dark haired one on the left is Halo. She's a WSO, but I hardly ever fly with her. The other two work in admin on base. I have no idea what their names are. Why?"
"Just curious," you said, letting your hand slide down his body to the front of his pants. Bradley's eyes lit up and you smiled as he started to blush. "Come with me, Daddy. Let's check out which of the rare flowers are blooming."
--------------------------
"Baby, the rare flower exhibit is closed for the night," Bradley said for the second time as you and he walked deeper into the greenhouse. The pulsing beat of the music faded a bit as you led him past a sign that said EXHIBIT TEMPORARILY CLOSED, PLEASE DO NOT ENTER.
"I don't think anyone will notice if we just explore a little bit on our own," you said softly as you ducked underneath the red velvet rope that was hanging across the doorway. Bradley followed you, stooping low enough to make it underneath, but then he pulled you closer to him. The walkways were wider in here, but the lights were dimmed pretty low, and Bradley didn't want you tripping on the stone floor. 
"What do you want to look at?" he asked, but you didn't seem to be focused on any of the plants at all. You paused next to a small fountain toward the back of the room and glanced around with a smile on your lips. 
"I don't want to look at anything," you whispered, kissing him softly as you draped your arms around his neck. Your wildflower scent was better than anything else the gardens could provide. "I just wanted to show you a little appreciation."
Now he was just confused. "For what?" he asked, letting his hands come to rest on your hips as you licked his mustache. He wondered if you were still tipsy from all the champagne and berries you'd enjoyed. But when you giggled and rubbed yourself against him, he started to get the picture. 
"For being the world's best Daddy. I'm going to get you a new mug for your ridiculous collection. It'll say Noah's Daddy in the streets. Princess's Daddy in the sheets."
Bradley smiled as you laughed. "Baby, I'd use it every day."
"I know you would, because you're the best. And you're mine." Your tongue darted out one more time, swiping along his lips, but when he leaned in to kiss you, he was treated to the sight of you sinking to your knees in front of him. "Mine."
You kissed him through his snug white pants, and Bradley knew in the back of his mind that anyone else could duck under that velvet rope if they really felt like it. Two turns along the stone path, and they would know exactly what was happening here. But when you looked up at him and licked those pretty lips, the only thing he cared about was feeling them wrapped around his cock. 
"Go ahead. Show me some appreciation," he rasped, and you moaned as you tugged down his zipper and undid his button. You nuzzled your nose against his underwear as he widened his stance just a bit. It wasn't long before he was hard and huge and ready for you, and you were treating him like a treat you wanted to savor. "God, you're something else, aren't you?" he mumbled, brushing his fingers along your cheek. "Perfect."
Your eyes were wide and bright as you tugged down all of the white fabric just a few inches, and Bradley's cock sprang free, tapping your lips and leaving a streak of his precum on your cupid's bow. You wrapped one hand gently around his length, and with one swipe of your tongue, Bradley's eyes were already rolling back. 
"Oh, fuck," he grunted, taking a deep breath before he looked at you again. He was throbbing in your hand as you kissed his tip and along his length with a lazy little grin on your lips. You weren't in any sort of hurry as you moved in time with the thumping party music still going strong in the distance. Your tongue swirled along his balls before you took one between your lips and sucked gently. "Princess."
"Hmm," you hummed, looking up at him. Your eyelashes brushed your cheeks every time your eyes drifted slowly closed, but whenever they were open, they were focused on his face. You were his gorgeous Princess, and you were always taking care of him. Your tongue was like velvet as his cock rested on your cheek, throbbing in response to your welcome attention. When you released his balls to lick back along his length to his tip, you sighed. "I love you, Daddy."
You sucked on his head, lips pursed in a pretty pout, and when you finally took more of his cock between your lips, Bradley readjusted his stance and placed one big palm at the back of your head. "Nice and slow. Yeah. Just like that." It was heavenly the way you took him deep until you gagged before bobbing on his length. Then you did it again, eyes watering as you made that pretty sound at the back of your throat. "You're so fucking good at this."
You moaned and whined louder, and Bradley looked around to be sure the two of you were still alone as you gagged all over his cock. He tried to guide you slower, but you popped him free and grinned up at him as you pumped your fist along his length. "Do you like this? In the greenhouse?" you asked, gingerly kissing his tip again. 
He growled and pushed your head as you squealed with delight until he was tapping the back of your throat again. He could only grunt. "Yeah. I like this. You spoil me." 
Now your fingers were rubbing and teasing his balls, and Bradley was trying to be gentle with his palm at the back of your head, but you had him close to the edge. He groaned your name, stroking his thumb along the shell of your ear and down to your jaw as you worked him into a babbling mess. You kept your eyes fixed on his as he fucked your face while you bobbed and sucked. The wet sounds and soft moans were obscene, and so were Bradley's words.
"God, Baby. You're a fucking dream. You let me cum everywhere, in every hole. You gonna swallow me down?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed, somehow never releasing the perfect suction you had around him. Your saliva was dripping onto your chest and down to your beaded top, coating your cleavage. Your brow was pinched. Your hands were tight around the base of his cock and his hip. You were ready for him. 
"Good girl," he praised as he came with his cock at the back of your throat. You sputtered and gagged, but you swallowed him down. Your lips parted with him resting on your tongue, and he watched you swallow with little gulps as you tried to catch your breath. 
Your eyes were watery as you licked his tip clean, never pulling him away from your mouth. Each soft swipe of your tongue was accompanied by a quiet whimper of your pleasure, and finally Bradley had to pull away before he got hard again. You kissed along the front of his pants again and let your cheek rest high on his thigh as he tucked his cock back inside his pants. What a sight you were, on the stone floor in front of him, snuggled against his uniform pants. He coaxed your chin up with his fingers so you were looking at him again, and he committed the sight to memory. 
"I love you, Princess."
Your smile made him soft inside, and when he reached for your hand and pulled you to your feet, you came willingly to his arms. He tasted himself on your lips when you kissed him and straightened out his hat. Your fingernails were raking along the stubble that was starting to grow in along his jaw as you whispered, "I got a little lipstick on your pants."
"Good," he said with a smirk. He literally didn't give a shit if everyone knew you gave him head during the retirement party. "You want to grab one more glass of champagne and start saying goodbye to everyone? It's pretty late, and I want to get back to relieve Amelia."
You nodded and let Bradley lead you slowly along the stone path back toward the main part of the greenhouse. 
---------------------------
It was almost midnight when you chewed on one last raspberry while Natasha eyed the front of Bradley's pants and then your lips. "You know, I do think it's amusing the way you get on me about my questionable decisions," she told him with a bland look. "But it's nice to see that mom and dad had a fun night out."
Bradley chuckled as he leaned against the bar sipping a glass of water. He had absolutely no shame right now, and it was making you a little flustered. Sure, you'd been the one to boldly instigate the activity that took place in the rare plants room, but now you were feeling a little more bashful about it as he stood there with his dress whites a bit marked up and his arm around your waist. 
You bit your lip as you looked up at him, and he kissed the tip of your nose. "Don't go and get shy on me now," he whispered, and then you saw the three women from the ladies' room walk past. They were all looking at him, but he didn't spare a glance in their direction as he said, "Ready to go home to Noah and Skittles?"
"Yes," you replied softly, and he finished the rest of his water in two gulps. 
"Let's go."
"Wait," you said as he started to head toward Admiral Bates. "We're not dropping Natasha off?"
He shook his head and said, "Nope. She's going with Javy. Gonna break his heart."
Sure enough, the two of them were sneaking off together as you said goodbye to Admiral Bates and his wife. You watched Bradley stand at attention and salute his commanding officers, and a little flicker of lust rippled through your body. Nobody said anything about his pants, but he was kind of just flaunting it now as you tried to get him outside. 
"Shameless," you murmured once you were out in the cool night air, the salty smell of the ocean all around you.
"I'm with you, and I don't give a fuck who knows about it, Princess. Now let's get home where I can show you a little appreciation."
The drive was quick and quiet as Bradley sang to you. When his favorite song popped up on his playlist, you turned the volume down a little bit so you could hear his steady voice louder over the music, and it gave you goosebumps. He'd sung it for you countless times and always told you it reminded him of you, and tonight was no exception. 
"I always think of you now. All the time."
You ended up on his lap once he parked in the driveway, knocking his hat off so you could run your fingers through his hair as you whispered, "I love you." He carried you carefully up to the porch, your poofy skirt becoming a bit of a tripping hazard that made both of you laugh. And you were still in his arms when he tried the doorknob to find it was locked.
"Okay," he told you with a pleased nod. "She's got the house sealed up just like you always did. I like that."
"So Amelia Benjamin is for sure our new permanent babysitter?"
Bradley slid his key into the lock and said, "As long as Noah had fun, I think so." He turned the knob and opened the door as he called out, "It's just us!" 
Amelia was rolling the ball across the floor for Skittles while she read a book, and she looked up and asked, "Did you have fun?" 
You quickly stepped in front of Bradley, hiding his pants from view as you said, "So much fun."
"Yeah, it was pretty good," Bradley added as he patted your butt and turned to head for the stash of cash behind the TV so he could pay her. "How was Noah?"
"Great! We had fun with the puppy, and he went right to bed."
"Perfect," Bradley said as he counted out some bills, and now you had to play hide the pants as Bradley casually handed her payment to her. 
"Thanks. Are my mom and Mav still there, or did they head back already?" she asked.
You were holding some of the layers of your skirt out to the side in front of your boyfriend like a weirdo as you answered her. "They must have left, because we didn't see them when we were heading out."
Amelia knelt down to pat Skittles on the head before the dog carried her ball over to Bradley's feet with a little limp in her step. "Sounds good. Call me if you need me to watch Noah again," she said, waving as she headed out. "Goodnight." 
"Thank you," Bradley called after her as he picked Skittles up and let her lick his face.
"You need to go take your pants off. I'm dropping them at the dry cleaner first thing on Monday."
Bradley laughed as he said, "I thought you were very proud of yourself."
"I was... until a literal teenager was about to see it!" you told him as you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants before glaring up at him. "Just take them off while I check on Noah."
You walked away with your skirt billowing behind you, and you quietly slipped into his bedroom. He was sound asleep, his breathing soft and even as you let your hand rest on his shoulder. "Hi, sweet Noah," you whispered. You felt like you'd barely seen him all day with the amount of time you'd been out and the hours you had taken to get ready with Natasha. Your fingers grazed his warm cheek before you pushed his hair back from his forehead and gave him a kiss. "I love you." 
When you turned toward the door, Bradley was standing there with his pants unzipped and Skittles in one big hand. "It's time for me to show you a little oral appreciation, Baby," he whispered as he took your hand. 
As soon as he had you on your back in the middle of your bed with your skirt pushed way up, he found out you weren't wearing any underwear. Your pussy was wet, and you were ready for him, but when he nipped your lips as he teased you with his fingers, you broke the kiss. "Can we have a fun family day tomorrow? Us and Noah?" you gasped, your fingers clutching at the insignia pins on his jacket.
Bradley's smirk turned into a smile before he kissed you so gently, you whimpered. He kissed back to your ear as he slid one long finger into your pussy and circled your clit with his thumb. "Absolutely. I love you. Oh, I fucking adore you, Princess."
He worked you over good after that. Your fingers were in your own mouth as Bradley propped you up with his hand for better access. He was making you get a little too loud as his soft tongue and bristly mustache met your clit while he finger fucked you. And then the broad stripes of his tongue that ended in little swirls around your clit let you know exactly what he was planning to do.
"Daddy!" you gasped, hips jerking as you clenched around his thick fingers. He knew he had you. He knew just the right amount of pressure to apply. You squirted for him. You were wet everywhere; it felt like you were laying in a little puddle. 
"Oh, fuck me," he moaned, and then he was on top of you, shoving his cock inside your dripping pussy and making your back arch off the bed. His face was wet with you as he kissed you and let you lick his mouth clean. You felt good if not overstimulated and a little boneless, but with just a few deep thrusts, he came inside you.
His body weight was heavy but soothing as he eased himself down on top of you. "Well," he whispered, "looks like you'll need to take your dress to the dry cleaner along with my uniform." 
You smirked. "I'll put it on my Princess credit card."
"You're damn right."
------------------------
If Saturday night at the retirement party was fun, then the impromptu family day on Sunday was spectacular. Bradley hadn't done anything quite like this, well... ever.
"Mommy!" Noah called out, handing you a purple golf ball at the little putt putt course next to the beach. Then Noah selected a yellow ball for himself and handed Bradley bright green.
"Perfect, Bub," he said, kissing his son while you took him by the hand. Bradley's attention just fluctuated between how pretty you were in your little sundress and how happy Noah looked. He was so preoccupied, you had to keep reminding him it was his turn.
"You're up, Daddy," you said, nudging his foot with your putter. "Why are you so distracted?"
He shook his head and nudged your putter right back before he kissed your cheek. "Just having a good day," he replied. "Thinking about how nice this is."
"We can have family Sundays whenever we're not too busy. Oh, and there's a dog friendly beach trail, so next time we can bring Skittles."
"She's getting her cast off soon," Bradley reminded you.
"Then she can sleep in my bed!" Noah said, hitting his yellow ball very badly. "You promised!"
"Yeah. You promised," you echoed. Bradley was met with Noah's look of excitement and your smug smile. Then you added, "You're just the best, Daddy."
He groaned and bent to scoop Noah up as he giggled uncontrollably. "Let's tickle Mommy," Bradley whispered loudly. He chased you around while Noah stretched his arms out and wiggled his fingers at you. When you pretended to get caught, you smothered first Noah and then Bradley in kisses. Then the three of you eventually returned to the golf game, and Bradley silently congratulated himself for successfully distracting the two of you. 
Because honestly, he was already kind of attached to having Skittles sleep in her little bed in the room with you and him. He didn't want to say it out loud though, especially since he was the one who didn't want a dog in the first place. But he liked having her trot over to him when he got out of bed in the morning, and he liked settling her into her spot at night. And he knew Skittles preferred to be taken outside by him.
"I can't believe I have an eight pound dog named Skittles," he murmured. "How is this my life now?"
Not that he was complaining. He looked at you helping Noah line up his shot at the last hole, and then you and he managed to get a hole in one together before both turning to look at him in surprise. "Did you see that?" you asked.
"Yeah, I saw it," he replied with a smile. "It was incredible. Now let's go celebrate by not asking you to cook tonight."
Dinner consisted of nothing but takeout sandwiches and a picnic table, but it was the perfect end to the day. Bradley was just mesmerized by you as you cleaned Noah's hands with a wet wipe and then cut his sandwich up into little bite sized pieces for him. Then you kissed him on the temple and asked if he would like to have Amelia come babysit him again.
"Remember when you were my babysitter?" he asked you, his eyes wide as you smiled down at him.
"Yeah. I remember, sweet Noah."
He bit into a piece of his sandwich before he said, "I liked that a whole lot, but I like it better now that you're my mommy instead."
"I like it better now, too," Bradley added, and he watched your smile grow.
"Yeah," Noah said, "because you're always at our house now, and you never have to leave."
"That's right. You belong with us, Princess." Bradley thought maybe you always had, and he and Noah were just waiting for it all to fall into place.
You looked pleased as you told them, "I'm not going anywhere."
When Bradley finally pulled the Bronco in the driveway, it was dark out, and both you and Noah were yawning nonstop. "Do I need to carry both of you inside?" he asked.
"Yes," you and Noah answered in unison. 
He picked you up for a piggy back ride before getting Noah out of the backseat, and then he carried both of you up to the porch and unlocked the door. You took Noah with you to get him ready for bed while Bradley led Skittles out the back door. 
"Yeah, I know I'm your favorite," he whispered as Skittles licked his hand before hobbling out to the grass. He'd follow up with the shelter about having her cast removed, and he get her some special treats for a reward as she built her strength up again. 
A few minutes later, he carried the pup down the hallway past Noah's room where his son was already sound asleep. When he walked into his own bedroom, you were already snuggled up in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin. "You sleepy, Baby?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed before yawning again. "All the champagne and mini golfing caught up with me, I guess. Not to mention the blowjobs."
Bradley chuckled as he set Skittles down in her bed with a little pat on her purple bow. Then he joined you after kicking his shoes off. He snuggled up next to you on top of the blankets, still needing to get ready for bed. But he kissed you and watched as your eyelids grew heavier. "Can't forget about the blowjobs," he whispered, and you smiled. "I love you, Princess."
"Love you." Then you were asleep. 
When he got to work tomorrow morning, Bradley would talk to Admiral Simpson about flying in the air show even though he really didn't want to have to chat with him about anything. Not after Cyclone's continual desire to flirt with the one woman who was Bradley's. But he'd do it anyway, because he wanted to make you happy. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket, and after he verified you were really asleep, he opened his internet browser to check those tabs again.
--------------------------
Silence, peasants....she is a Princess. Can't wait for Bradley's conversation with Cyclone at work. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 44
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693 notes · View notes
xsaltburnx · 3 months
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Hate or Love?
Farleigh Start + fem! reader
a/n: I really, really, really wanted to write this, I got a little bit carried away but I seriously enjoyed writing this so fucking much, I hope you'll like it, also I apologize for any grammar mistakes you may find in this
warning: 18+, just pure filth, handjob, degrading, Farleigh being a bottom, dom! reader, masturbation, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
word count: 4, 059
People always say there is a thin line between love and hate and one night you discovered how thin that line really is. 
You were walking down the long hallways of Saltburn estate, all of the lights dimmed, making it look a little bit spooky, the only thing bright enough to light up the rooms was the full moon out there shining through the large, floor to ceiling windows. You walked around quietly, tripping over your own two feet after you had a few drinks too much with Venetia down in the gardens, reminiscing about the past year. Everything around you was quiet, not even a sound of a fly in the air, only your footsteps, your heels digging into the hardwood floors echoing throughout the hall. You spun around a few times, just dancing to a familiar tune in your head, your eyes scanning the paintings on the walls. You laughed at yourself and realized how silly you probably look but who cares, it's not like anybody was around to observe what you were doing. 
You reached your room, your fingers wrapping around the doorknob when something else caught your attention. You walked closer to the door right next to your room and noticed how the doors were slightly ajar, a slight light shining through the gap. A quiet moan coming from the room was the thing that caught your attention and then a few seconds later another one. Your brows furrowed in confusion. You licked your lips and peeked through the gap, careful not to push the doors open and disturb whatever was on the other side of the door. And there he was. Farleigh Start with his head thrown back, his lips parted as his right hand worked slowly on his hard cock. You couldn't help but swallow hard at the sight of him, looking so vulnerable and desperate with his shirt off and his pants pushed down to his knees. His legs were slightly spread apart, a hint of sweat glistening on his chest, making it look like fucking glitter, the shine of the moon only enhancing that. He looked absolutely fucking etheral and you felt something in your stomach, something you've never felt before. 
Usually, you couldn't stand Farleigh. He was fucking annoying all the time, something about his snarky remarks made your blood boil and the way he always teased you had you going absolutely crazy. But this. This was something different. 
You watched as his head was thrown back in pleasure, his large hand wrapped around himself, skillfully working on his hard cock. He kept switching the pace between fast and slow. Everytime he started moving his hand slowly, his lips parted in pleasure and his moans were a lot louder, his hips jerking up looking for more friction, his cock looking to be buried in something tighter than just his hand. You felt your mouth water when you noticed how he picked up his pace, frantically sort of abusing his cock, wanting to feel that incredible euphoric, mind blowing orgasm he's been chasing for the last few minutes. You stepped a little bit closer, still very careful and then your legs felt like someone kicked you in the knees, your body tensing up as you choked on your own saliva. His cum shot out of him, all over his stomach as your name fell off his lips, his hand still massaging his cock. He stopped his movements and just let his hand drop down on the bed next to his body, his head still thrown back, his chest moving up and down heavily as he was trying to catch his breath. 
Was it always like that? The answer is yes. Farleigh had a thing for you. You've always seen him as someone who absolutely hated your guts and you hated him, but you would be lying if you said that you have never thought about what it would be like to have him buried deep inside of you, crying out his name, but based on this, you saw him as someone who would be crying out your name. 
You stepped back and walked quickly inside of your room, closing the doors behind you as you tried to catch your breath, the sight of Farleigh like that totally turning you on. You shook your head and took all your clothes off as you laid down on the bed, your clothes scattered on the floor. Your head was spinning so much and your mind was such a mess that the best thing to do was to just fall asleep. Maybe it was all a dream. 
That's what you thought when you woke up in the morning and put on your silky summer dress, wrapping two straps that were attached to it around your waist and tying them up into a bow. You tousled your hair a bit, trying to make it look presentable and headed downstairs and outside where you would be having your breakfast that day. Almost everybody was already outside, James and Elspeth the only ones missing from the table. There was Felix, Venetia and Oliver, Felix somehow already annoyed about something. The topic of the day? Oliver's birthday party. 
"So mum said there's going to be about 200 people at the party tonight." Venetia said, grabbing a spoonful of freshly cut fruit mixed with some yoghurt and placing it into her mouth, pieces of apples and grapes crunching underneath her teeth.
"Why so many? I don't even know that many people." Oliver trailed off, his voice weirdly sounding more innocent and almost child-like. 
"All your friends are definitely coming, the number just kept going up. Mum always has to be extra about this." Venetia took a chocolate croissant and took a bite out of it, her fingers squeezing it slightly.
"What friends?" Farleigh made another snarky remark, his eyes never leaving the paper in front of him, a cigarette in his one hand. He took a drag out of it and blew the smoke in the air as you watched him have that same judgy look on his face as always. That was definitely just a dream because just by looking at him made your blood boil. You scoffed at him and shook your head, making him look at you. 
"Typical." You just trailed off and took a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice.
"I'm sorry, do you have a problem with me?" Farleigh asked, his tone again so condescending, his eyes squinting a little bit.
"I don't know, do I?" You replied and licked your lips, a smirk plastered across your face.
Oliver interrupted but none of you looked at him. Your eyes were still glued on Farleigh and how he kept smoking and flipping through the newspaper, not even looking at it.
"C'mon guys, we were talking about the party, I think Oliver would love it if we stop with whatever this is and just focus on the party." Felix said and took off his glasses, placing them on the table next to his plate.
"I think Oliver would rather throw himself out of the window." A slight grin appeared on Farleigh's face but quickly disappeared, a cigarette between his fingers burning, getting smaller and smaller.
"Yeah, you would know, you get that feeling every fucking day." You mumbled but Farleigh heard you loud and clear and now he was the one who scoffed and rolled his eyes. Venetia groaned and threw her head back in frustration, dropping the croissant on her plate.
"Why can't you guys just fuck and get rid of all of this tension and save us all the fucking drama?" Venetia pointed at you and Farleigh, your eyes going as wide as they could at her comment.
"Yeah, no thanks. I would rather throw myself out of the window than do that." You trailed off and got up as you slowly walked away but managed to hear what Farleigh said.
"Fuck you."
"Yeah, you wish." You yelled and turned around on your heel, your dress lifting up slightly because of a slight summer breeze. You walked inside and rolled your eyes, your heart beating a little bit faster as you tried to calm down. Fucking Farleigh. He did make your blood boil like no other person has ever done before. Yeah, there were times where you could actually stand him but those were very rare. 
You spent the rest of the day walking around the house, reading a book or just watching tv, trying to avoid Farleigh but wherever you went, he was still somehow there, just silently walking past you or sitting on a chair behind you, looking at something on his laptop. You still couldn't stop thinking about last night. Was it just a dream or did that really happen? It seemed too vivid to be just a dream and you were sure you weren't that drunk. His moans and a picture of him laying on the bed like that was still in your head and it turned you on so damn much, you were ashamed to admit how much you wanted him. Just for a night. Maybe he wouldn't be so annoying and you could actually stand him. 
You got so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice what time it was. You had to get ready for the party. 
When you walked outside, you couldn't believe how many people were attending this party, half of them probably not even knowing Oliver's name, let alone what the party was about and frankly you didn't even care. You walked around the gardens, a drink in your hand, the maze not that far from you. Some people bumped into each other, clearly already way too drunk to function properly and some walking confidently into the maze and you couldn't help but chuckle because you knew they would get lost in there and would probably need to call someone to come and get them. 
You tripped over your own feet, your heel digging into the ground, spilling a little of that delicious red colored drink you had in your hand. You stopped in your tracks and turned around, a tall figure standing behind you, leaning against the pole with a horse mask on their head. A familiar laugh echoed inside the mask, a smirk appearing on your face when you realized who it was.
"Hello Farleigh." You muttered and crossed your arms, your body facing him.  He removed his mask and placed it under his armpit, holding it with his arm tight to his body.
"How did you know it was me?" He asked and leaned forward, his teeth pulling on his bottom lip. His familiar scent invaded your nostrils and you noticed how his hair looked way fluffier than usual, probably because of the mask.
"It's actually very easy, there's not a lot of douchebags around here, at least I haven't seen any up until now." You trailed off and took a sip of your drink, your hand on your hip as you leaned towards him a little bit.
"God, you really do hate me, don't you?" He asked, slight amusement in his voice, his eyes looking a little bit darker or maybe you were drunk already and everything seemed different. God, he smelled fenomenal.
"I don't hate you. I just don't particularly like you or be in your presence in general." His brows furrowed but for only a second as he started laughing and crossed his arms, placing them on his chest. He stepped closer, now completely towering over you, his height still surprising you after years of knowing him. He looked down at you, your bodies only inches apart and for some reason he made you nervous. 
"That's sort of the definition of hate. You're no picnic either, baby." He leaned down, his eyes now level with yours, his breath hot on your face. He smelled of mint and cigarettes, like always but this time mixed with something else, which you couldn't quite determine what it was. "But as much as you say you hate me, I know you want me." He whispered in your ear and then again leaned back, again towering over you.
"What?" You asked loudly, a confused look plastered all over your face. There was that cocky and confident attitude he always carried so proudly and that was exactly why he made your blood boil. 
"If you want me to fuck you, you can just ask, I would gladly do it." 
"I'd rather drink bleach. Baby." You mocked him at the end, imitating the way he previously said "baby". Now you were the one who stepped closer, your head leaned back a little bit, your eyes glued on his. "And it seemed last night that you were very desperate for me to fuck you. Not the other way around." 
You saw his eyes go wide as he stepped back, almost tripping. You chuckled at his reaction and picked up the mask he dropped down next to his feet, the feeling of satisfaction basically radiating out of your body. He swallowed hard and suddenly went shy, unsure how to react to what you just told him. 
"What? Nothing happened last night." 
"Sure, baby. I have to go now, but you know where to find me." You winked at him and left him like that, befuddled, completely lost in his own world. It might've been a cheap shot but two can play this game and he seemed a little bit too cocky for someone who got knocked down with just one sentence, suddenly looking smaller than a grain of sand. Maybe that's why you haven't seen Farleigh for the rest of the night. That was kind of strange since he was sort of a real party animal. Where there's alcohol and drugs, there was Farleigh. But not this time. 
Some idiot spilled beer on your dress, the smell being so overwhelming that you had to change immediately. You walked through the crowded hallways of Saltburn, walking past people making out, even fucking where everyone could see but I guess they didn't care. You carried your heels in your hand as you opened your bedroom door and walked inside, dropping the heels down on the ground. 
You unzipped your dress and let it fall down, now pooling around your feet as you stepped out of it, kicking it with your one foot and throwing it across the room. You opened your closet to find something else to wear but then you heard something shuffle and you quickly turned around only to find Farleigh's eyes glued to your half naked body.
"What the fuck Farleigh?!" You exclaimed, but didn't even try to cover yourself. You stood confidently in front of him, his eyes scanning you from head to toe as you watched him swallow hard. "What are you doing in my room?"
"What did you hear last night?" His voice was low and somehow more gentle than it usually is. He almost looked innocent and not that intimidating anymore, a child-like presence in him. 
"Oh nothing much." You trailed off and walked slowly towards him until you were completely glued to his warm body. His shirt was unbuttoned half way down, his chest exposed to your eyes. "But it was nice to hear my name falling off your lips so beautifully and so desperate when you finally came all over your chest." You trailed your fingers over his chest, drawing invisible circles before you lowered your hand right to where his belt was sitting. 
"You weren't supposed to hear that. I was just-" 
"I know." You interrupted him. "But I thought you hated me." You trailed off, your fingers now unbuckling his belt, pulling it off his pants in one swift motion. 
"I do hate you." He whispered and parted his lips, his hot breath washing over your face as you unbuttoned his pants, revealing only his boxers. You snaked your hand inside his boxers, gently grabbing his cock and then slightly grazing it with your nails. You watched his lips part even more, a very quiet moan escaping his lips. 
"This doesn't seem like you hate me, Farleigh." You pushed his pants down along with his boxers, exposing his bottom half to the chilly air inside your room. You spit down on your palm and then wrapped your fingers around his now semi-hard cock and started moving your hand up and down gently, barely even squeezing him.
"If you want me to fuck you, just say it." You whispered and picked up your pace, this time wrapping your hand around him a little bit more and tighter, your thumb grazing his tip slightly.
"Do you want me to fuck you, Farleigh?" You whispered and now only focused on his tip, his hips jerking up into your hand, obviously looking for more friction. 
"No." He practically whimpered, his chest now heavily moving, his breath hitching in his throat everytime you squeezed his cock a little bit more and grazed his tip, his cock now rock hard in the palm of your hand.
"Are you sure?" He leaned his head down, his forehead now resting on top of your head, his whimpers a little bit louder as each second passed. You picked up your pace even more, his hand suddenly grabbing your shoulder, looking for some stability because his legs  suddenly started feeling like jello. 
"Fuck." He groaned out loud, his head now thrown back in pleasure, his eyes closed shut, his hips now also moving back and forth with the movements of your hand. "I'm so close." 
You smirked, the satisfaction pooling out of your body. You knew what you were doing and right when he started whimpering even more, you knew that he was close and that's when you stopped what you were doing and removed your hand, his body almost falling forward. You stepped back and licked your hand, your tongue swirling around your fingers, a hint of his pre cum on the tips of your fingers. 
"Why did you do that?" He cried out in frustration, his cock standing straight and up towards his stomach, his body shaking in frustration. 
"Well you said you don't want me to fuck you. That's exactly what I'm doing." You sat down on one of the chairs in your room and crossed your legs, a sight of Farleigh standing like that in your room, with his pants halfway down, so desperate for your touch made you feel way too confident.
"Please touch me like that again, I'll do anything you want." He whimpered and pushed his pants down, completely taking them off. He stood like that for a few minutes and you couldn't stop looking at him. All this time you thought Farleigh was this dominating, take whatever he wants man, but in reality he was a complete opposite of that. Now that turned you on even more. Because it took you so long and because the only thing you did was stare at him, he looked down, looking almost defeated and just sat down on your bed.
You chuckled and finally got up as you walked towards him. You placed your finger under his chin and lifted his head up, locking your eyes with his. 
"Move back." You commanded and he obeyed like the good boy he is. He laid down on the bed, his head resting on one of your pillows as you towered over him. You did the same thing as before, spit down on your palm and wrapped your hand around his cock and started playing with him again, moving your hand at a fast pace, this time from the beginning. You watched his brows furrow and lips part again in pleasure, his whimpers loud when he was close but before he reached his orgasm, you removed your hand from his cock again, earning another cry from him. 
"Please let me cum. I want to cum." He whimpered, his voice cracking and you swore you saw tears in his eyes, clearly because of how desperate he was for his release, but you couldn't give him that just yet. 
"Is that all you want Farleigh?" You asked quietly, your fingers drawing invisible circles on the tip of his cock, now very dark pink and way more sensitive than before. A thick vein spread from his tip to his pelvis, his cock rock hard and desperate for more friction, to have something tight wrapped around him. 
"Yes." He answered quickly.
"Are you sure?" You squeezed his cock again, his hips jerking up one more time. 
"Please fuck me. Please." He cried out, his hands grabbing your hips, trying to pull you closer, to touch you in any way, scared that you were going to leave him like this. You unhooked your bra and threw it down on the floor, your top half now completely exposed to him. You straddled him and moved your panties to the side, your fingers wrapping around his cock as you guided him and slowly sat down on his cock, letting him fill you up to the brim. 
You moaned out, the feeling of him buried inside you even better than you have ever imagined, but what you liked even more was how his face looked. His eyes halfway closed, his teeth pulling down on his bottom lip, trying to hide his whimpers but that was something he just couldn't do because everytime you sunk down onto him, the moans he let out louder and louder until he couldn't handle it anymore. 
"Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to fuck you like this?" You wrapped your hand around his and lifted them up above his head, your hips switching between grinding and lifting your hips up only to meet his at a fast pace.
"Fuck, yes, please, please make me cum!" He started thrusting his hips up, his tip hitting that sweet spot inside of you, your orgasm slowly building inside of you but you had a different plan for now, you wanted to make Farleigh cum first, but not just yet. 
You pulled your off him again, denying him of yet another orgasm, Farleigh now practically crying as you saw a single tear roll down his cheek. 
"Don't cry, baby." You whispered and smiled at him as you crouched above him again, his cock nestling inside your tight walls again, a loud whimper falling off his lips again. You started jumping on top of him at a faster pace, the palm of your one hand resting on his chest and supporting your body while the other made small circles on your clit, your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach once more. 
"Please let me cum, I'll be good, don't stop, please!" He threw his head back, another tear rolling down his cheek from the overstimulation and desperation, his large palms now glued to your thighs, his fingers digging into your flesh.
"Are you gonna cum?" You moaned out, your inner walls slowly clenching around his thick cock. "Look at you being a pretty little slut for me." 
" Yes! Please!" He screamed out as you felt his hot sperm shoot inside of you, filling you up with everything he had, but you didn't stop just yes. You kept moving your hips, fucking yourself on his cock as you felt your orgasm slowly spread all around your body, the euphoric feeling almost too much to handle. 
You stilled your hips and let your body fall on top of him, your head resting on his chest as you felt his heart beating so loud that it seemed like it could jump out of his chest. You looked up at him, his eyes closed and you couldn't help but admire how beautiful he looked like this. Freshly fucked, his hair messy, sweat glistening all over his body and his lips swollen from all the biting. Something in you was a lot stranger than the so-called hate you had for him, but as it turns out, it wasn't hate. You leaned forward and pressed your lips on top of his, your hand gently cupping his face as you felt him return the kiss. 
"Do you still hate me?" You asked him, his fingers brushing the hair away from your face.
"I never did, baby." 
527 notes · View notes
explicit-tae · 3 months
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Love You (Just A Little Too Much)
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You're brought down memory lane and come face to face with someone you've completely forgotten about. @bloodline1632 @seokjinkismet @babycandy111 @minshookie29 @whipwhoops
Warning: smut, light yandere, teasing, sex toy usage, sub/dom, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, crying, restraints/bound, mentions of assault, manipulation, sadistic/masochistic tendencies, crying/sobbing, begging, slapping,
Word Count: 6.076
Valentine's Day Masterlist
“What’s on your mind?”
Your eyes blink at Jay, your boyfriend, and you could only offer a faint smile. “I don’t want to ruin dinner with my thoughts.” you reply. You drop your fork and grasp your glass of wine. 
Jay scoffs. “I can tell your head isn’t here,” he says. “Come on, tell me.”
You swallow your wine and lick your lips. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
Jay raises a brow and leans in closer. He smirks. “So?” he murmurs. “I’m your boyfriend, you know. You can tell me what’s on your mind.”
Jay was correct - he was your boyfriend and someone you’ve grown close to for the last year. You were able to speak with him freely as if he was your best friend and it came naturally even if he was the opposite sex.
You sigh and nod your head. “You’re right.” you say. “I…haven’t talked to any of my friends in months. It’s like we all slowly just…”
“Grew apart?” Jay offers and when you nod, so does he. “I understand. What do you think happened?”
You shrug your shoulders. You’re unsure yourself of the reason. There wasn’t any bad blood between the four of you - there was nothing that could be done to a group of friends that has been established since middle school. You all managed to make it through High School and college without breaking apart. 
Sure, there were a few petty arguments, but nothing that lasted months - hell, not even a full week.
Not speaking with them collectively had you nervous, but you were all adults. You four lived separate adult lives, Jang-Mi having moved hours away to start a new job. Minji had gotten married and divorce all under three years and had chosen to distract herself with work while Mi-sun focused on raising her daughter on her lonesome.
“And you haven’t spoken to either of them on the phone?” Jay questions.
“No.” you shake your head. “Only through text messages, but even those seem dry. Maybe I’m just overreacting.” you shake your head and release a humorless laugh. “Sorry. Today is supposed to be about us.”
Jay shakes his head. He offers you his hand and you take it. His hands are always soft, you notice, softer than yours. He presses a kiss onto your hand, soft lips tickling your skin. “It is about us.” Jay murmurs. “Today is our anniversary,” he continues. “but you’re still the woman I love and if somethings on your mind, I want you to talk about it.”
You love Jay - and this was one of the many reasons why. He was caring - genuinely caring. He always puts your wants and needs far beyond his own. A year isn’t a long time to be together for most people, but for you it was. You couldn’t see yourself being with another man, not when Jay was amazing as he was.
You met Jay a year prior while out, having bumped into one another. Literally. You recall the way your phone went flying and you nearly fell onto the ground when a pair of arms caught you - said arms had let you go immediately when you regained your balance. “I-I didn’t mean to grab you it’s-” the stranger began. “I’m so sorry I should’ve been looking where I was going.” you apologized profusely.
You learned that his name was Jay and as an apology, he asked you out for coffee. The two of you hit it off easily as he was a nice person to talk to. He was funny as he was kind and in the short time that you’ve known him, it was as if you and he knew one another for years. 
Maybe Jay’s physical appearance helped a little - he was tall and fit. He dressed appropriately each time you and him met and he even offered to help you dress so the two of you matched for the occasion. His skin was the clearest you’ve ever seen on a man and appeared utterly glass and he had such perfect teeth.
It was hard in the beginning to be seen with Jay simply because of how beautiful he was, but he always made it known just how beautiful he thought you were and how much he appreciated you for being by his side. 
“So,” Jay offers you a toothy grin. “talk to me like I’m your friend and not your boyfriend.”
You do, a part of you feels terrible about doing this while at dinner with him, but Jay was an understanding person. He could tell your head was elsewhere.
You tell Jay about everything - how you rarely saw your friends face to face and how you couldn’t even remember the last time you all spoke on the phone. You wanted to be understanding because the four of you were adults now and didn’t need to spend every waking moment together - but a call wasn’t asking for much.
At the end of it all, Jay is nodding his head in agreement. He hasn’t spoken much and instead decided to allow you to vent all your pent up frustrations. 
“Felt good?” Jay snickers and you nod with a low grin. “I’m glad. I can’t excuse your friends' behaviors but I can try to see things from their point of view.”
You listen as Jay speaks. 
“We’re all adults going through our adult lives. Jang-Mi had moved so far away it’s hard to go back into the routine you two had when she was closer. I’m sure she works long hours.”
You nod your head with a sigh, your heart sinking as you begin to feel bad for thinking that your friends were leaving you behind.
“Mi-sun is a mother and it’s tough raising a child on your own. She just doesn't live for herself anymore. Minji probably buries herself into work to get her mind off of the divorce. It wasn’t an…easy one.”
You recall the amount of times Minji had called you throughout the last year about how ultimately, she was going to be left with nothing after the divorce - Jay had been there the entire time listening as you tried to console your friend.
“You’re right.” you pick up your wine glass and take a sip. “We’ve all been through…so much.”
Jay raises a brow. “What do you mean?”
You eye him for a moment. 
“I think it’s karma.” you shrug your shoulders. “We were terrible people in our youth.” you try to joke but you swallow thickly. “What we’re going through now is just what we deserve.”
Jay chuckles. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” he takes a sip of his own wine. 
“Before I met you my life was going to shit. I couldn’t keep a job to save my life and…” there wasn’t a need to focus on what you were going through at that moment because Jay knew. “..you helped me. Sometimes I believe I don’t deserve you.”
“It’s Valentine’s Day, Y/N.” Jay sighs, but his lips stretch into a smile. “Don’t get too emotional on me.” he jokes. 
“I know…” you trail  off. “The divorce with Minji and how she had to work so hard  to get her life together. Jang-Mi left and got a new job hours away because of that scandal. Mi-sun had to raise a child all alone without any help that wasn’t us. I can’t sound crazy to believe our past actions had shaped our future.”
Jay is quiet as he hears you speak, so eerily silent that you glance away from him. “Or maybe I am crazy.” you murmur. “You aren’t.” Jay shakes his head. “Whatever…you  did in your past could have shaped the present. Truth is often stranger than fiction.” Jay grasps your hand into his own. “But you’re better now, Y/N. With me. You’ll never fall as long as I’m by your side.”
Jay gives you a smile that has your heart clenching.
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The room is beautiful and you are positive that Jay put a lot of thought into decorating it for you. The amount of rose petals leading up to the bed was one gesture you loved, but also the candles that were lit. You pondered when he had time to do such a thing.
Jay wraps an arm around you and brings you closer to him. His lips are soft as they kiss along your neck.  “I love this color on you.” Jay compliments, his hand sliding your sides. “Black is lovely against your skin.”
Your body flushes at the compliment and you could only giggle, giddy at the way your heart jumps. Jay insisted on you wearing the lingerie - a black lace and mesh material that leaves little to the imagination. The stockings are high and stop mid thigh.
“I like this color on you.” you tell Jay. He’s dressed down from his suit from early. Now, he sports a silk, red robe that’s tightly loosely around him. His tan skin peaks from beneath it.
“Valentine’s Day is all about you. I want to make you feel good.” Jay kisses down your neck towards your collarbone, leaving slightly wet kisses. “I want to try something new.”
You weren’t sure what to expect when being told “something new”. You were laid onto the bed you share with Jay, his lips continuing to kiss down your body. His eyes flicker upwards at you and he offers a mischievous grin that has your legs quivering. 
“Something new” wasn't a robe tied tightly around your wrist and keeping you bound against your bed frame. You wouldn’t lie and say your body wasn’t filled with excitement - you and Jay never did this and sex was already enjoyable enough.
Jay licks his lips, his eyes meeting your curious ones. “You’re so beautiful. Always has been.” he murmurs, speaking aloud by himself. 
Jay forces your legs open, his hand wrapping more rope around your ankles that he then ties to the end of the bed frame. He proceeds to do the same thing to your free leg. 
“I can see how wet you are now.” Jay’s voice is deep and sultry, slowly consumed with his own lust. “You’ve always been the submissive type. The type to do whatever is asked of you.”
Jay’s hand trails teasingly up your leg, his fingertips feeling like feathers tickling your skin. 
Jay’s finger taps lightly at your clothed clit, smirking at you teasingly. His index forces itself through the mesh material and he slides it to the side. “So wet.” he murmurs. “Relax, baby. I have something you’d like.”
Your pussy clenches with anticipation and your eyes watch Jay get up from the bed. He goes to the side of the bed and appears to go through a bag. 
“I want you to feel good.” Jay says, turning towards you. Once more, your pussy clenches at the sight of the vibrator in the palm of his hand. “You’d let me, right?”
Hastily you nod your head, licking your lips with anticipation. 
Jay turns on the vibrator and it’s loud, the buzzing noise tingling through your ears. He places it on your thigh to tease you and it does so greatly. He slides it across your thigh closer and closer between your legs.
“Baby?” Jay hums, gently pressing the vibrator against your clit.  “There’s no lies between us, right?”
Your legs begin to shake at the vibrators pressure against your clit. “N-No.” you stutter out.
“Then you’d tell me what you and your friends did, right?” Jay questions, pressing the vibrator even harder against you.
You struggle against the rope restraints. “W-What are you talking about?” you sigh - more like a moan. Your stomach was bubbling and you couldn’t contain the rest of the moans releasing from your mouth. 
“Remember earlier…you said it must be karma why your lives have turned the way they did.” Jay begins to circle the vibrator against your clit. You’re so wet that it’s now fully coated in your sweet arousal. “Tell me what you’ve done that karma has come before you all?”
You aren’t sure what Jay is getting at and why he suddenly wanted to do this now. Your toes begin to curl.
Jay removes the vibrator from your swollen bud, his eyes dark with lust.  “Tell me.” he demands.
“I-I…nothing.” you shake your head, panting. Your lack of pleasure sends shock waves through your body. “Why are you-”
Your throat releases a shriek when the vibrator is brought back to your clit. Your eyes shut tightly as, once more, your thigh shakes. “Please-”
“You know,”Jay begins, circling the vibrator against you. “There’s four types of lies.”
“Jay…” the way you say his name causes his cock to jump in his pants. You’re full of lust and pleasure and he’s sure you’re not fully able to comprehend him.
“A white lie, a gray lie, a black lie and a red lie.” Jay continues. “A white lie is to first seek to help others. A gray lie is an in between; to partly help others and ourselves.”
Your toes begin to curl as Jay continues. 
“A black lie…” Jay trails off, his eyes boring into your face. Your eyes are clenched shut and you’re panting. “...is pure selfishness. Nothing is gained from others when a black lie is told and it is used to purely get the liar out of trouble.”
Jay removes the vibrator once more and this time you cry out in protest. Your eyes snap open, sadden as you peer at Jay.
“You’re such a whore, Y/N.” he chuckles cruely, his demeanor changed from the caring boyfriend of just an hour early. Your body yearns for him regardless of this act. “You’re about to cry.”
“I just wanna cum, Jay.” you murmur in defeat. 
“Yeah?” Jay comes closer to your face. “A red lie…” Jay places the vibrator against your clit, this time pressing the buttons on the side to increase the power. “...is done solely out of spite. Revenge. To harm others.”
Your eyes never leave his, even with the amount of blinking you’re doing to remain conscious. You’re groaning now, body shaking with pleasure. 
“Can you guess which one I am, baby?”
What?
“If you guess right, I’ll let you cum.”
Your breathing increases and the only thing you can think about is cumming. “W-White.”
“Wrong.” Jay turns off the vibrator, but keeps it against your clit. “Can you guess which type of liar you are?”
“Jay…” you shake  your head. This act was making you impatient. “Please-”
“Tell me, Y/N. If you’ve done nothing in your past, then why have you and your friends gone through such terrible karma?”
“This act you’re doing is too much, Jay.”
“What act?” Jay scoffs. “Since you don’t know, baby. You’re a black liar. You’re selfish and you’re deflecting from your own involvement in the past.”
Your eyebrows knit together. “Jay…that isn’t funny-”
The vibrator turns on once more, shocking you. 
“As for me, I’m a red liar. None of you recognized me.” Jay speaks in a tone - monotone like; narrative. “You didn’t recognize Jay. Minji didn’t recognize Jung-ho. Mi-sun didn’t recognize Jong-seok and Jang-Mi never recognized Ju-ho…”
Jung-ho.
Jong-seok.
Ju-ho.
Jay.
“Jay…?” your intentions aren’t to moan, but you cannot help it. Jay is pressing the vibrator with such pressure that even now in this unknown situation, you cannot help but want to cum hard. 
Just as you were about to cum, you cry out once more when the vibrator cuts off. You’re trembling, your wrist burning as the friction of the robe rubs against them.
“My name’s not Jay, Y/N. You know my name.”
Your eyes widen slowly. “Stop.” you plead with Jay. “It isn’t funny anymore…”
“I never told you a joke.” Jay scoffs. “Look at me and tell me you don’t remember who I am, Y/N.”
You swallow the lump in your throat as goosebumps begin to erupt onto your skin. Your heart is beating outside your chest and you wished Jay would flip the switch and return to the boyfriend you know and love.
“Look. At. Me.” Jay grits out each word with such venom, his cheerful personality long gone. “It’s been a decade since High School but have I truly changed that much, Y/N?”
You remain silent, your eyes remain on the man in front of you. 
“I had to change schools because of what your friends said I did.” Jay murmurs, and as the words hit your ears your eyes begin to widen. 
Mi-sun lifts her hand up and hums, tilting her head. “I think I want pink.” she says. “But a soft pink, not a hot one.”
Jang-Mi snorts.
Mi-sun raises a brow at Jang-Mi, but she doesn’t respond. 
“Like this one?” Minji asks after rummaging through her tote of beauty items. She holds up a bright pink color - taffy. 
Mi-sun nods with excitement. 
You sit and listen to the exchange, head in Jang-Mi’s lap.
You were all in Mi-sun’s room, a room that was overly pink, but neither of the girls in the friend group complained. Her walls were white, but her bed - a large queen size that sat in the middle of her room - had a bubblegum pink comforter set with matching pillows. While her floors were hardwood, the rugs inside of her room were round and flamingo colored. 
“So,” Jang-Mi starts. “What is this year's dare?”
You sighed deeply, ready to hear just what the hell your friends had planned for you this year.
Every year your group of friends would dare one another to do something - anything - at the start of the school year. It was a tradition, after all, spawning since primary school.
The year prior, Mi-sun had dared Minji to walk in the boys locker-room “accidentally” and shower just minutes before the boys were done with their practice. Minji was the daredevil of the group and accepted it without a problem - even if she did have a months worth of detention and had several boys profess their “undying love” for her.
While Minji’s dare were dare-devil like, Jang-Mi’s were spontaneous. Her dare the year prior was to smoke bomb the teacher lounge - that earned her two months of detention (thanks to her uncle being the principal).
“You,” Minji points to you. “And you,” she then points to Mi-sun. “Need to step it up. Jang-Mi and I always do the impulsive dares!”
You lick your lips. “My dare last year was pretty impulsive.”
It wasn’t. The dare you agreed upon was to egg the principal's car - you weren’t caught and maybe that’s what they were upset about. Your poor principal was going through it and his niece never appeared to care much.
Jang-Mi rolls her eyes and snickers. “Egging a car is pretty impulsive.” she says with a hint of sarcasm. 
“Okay, let’s start then.” Minji claps her hands together. “Jang-Mi, I dare you…” Minji hums, her mind wandering as to what she would possibly say. “It’s like we’ve done everything already.”
“We have.” Jang-mi looks down at you. “This year is about you and Mi-sun.”
Mi-sun finishes painting her right hand and she raises a brow. “No fair.”
“Too bad.” Jang-Mi smirks. 
“I agree.” Minji smiles wide. “We have to think of something good. So we’ll start tomorrow.”
Your stomach churns at the thought of them coming up with something impulsive - it was your last year of highschool after all.
Mi-sun rolls her eyes. “I’m not scared.” she snaps.
“I’m scared.” Mi-sun hisses, hands trembling with wide eyes.
“Pussy.” Jang-Mi giggles. 
There was a few minutes before class started and it was as if Jang-Mi and Minji were ready to start the day off with a bang. 
“It’s not like it’s that difficult.” Minji hisses. “Just go ahead and kiss him.”
“You dared her to kiss a professor.” you deadpan - but you’re glad this dare wasn’t yours. Minji and Jang-mi had claimed they hadn't come up with anything yet. 
The yet scares you.
Said professor walks by - Professor Song. He’s tall, dark brown hair with matching eyes. He’s young, only a few years older than those he is teaching and an obvious eye-candy for the female students. He nods his head and waves at a few students as he strolls pass and Jang-Mi proceeds to push Mi-sun forward.
You gulp. This dare was a risky one. It was just a kiss yes, but this was a kiss between someone that had authority. Professor Song could lose his job - and teaching career - if this went the wrong way. 
Professor Song hisses at the impact of Mi-sun knocking into him. His glasses are knocked off of his face and it drops onto the ground beside him. He lowers himself to grab it and Mi-sun bites her lip before doing the dare.
Mi-sun presses her lips against Professor Song’s. It was a quick peck, but it stuns the man nonetheless. He stumbles back a bit and before he could speak, Mi-sun is running down the hall to her classroom with Jang-Mi, Minji and you following close behind. Jang-Mi and Minji are laughing while you’re too bewildered to speak.
“That. Was. So. Humiliating!” Mi-sun hisses as she reaches the classroom. Class was about to start and her face was as red as a tomato. “I swear if I’m expelled-”
“Stop being so dramatic.” Minji shrugs it off. She reaches her desk - besides Mi-sun, and sits. 
“Uncle knows of our yearly dares.” Jang-mi assures. “He should be expecting this by now.”
You take your seat behind Jang-mi. 
“Now all that is left is our little Y/N.” Jang-Mi turns and offers a wide grin. “Aren’t you excited?”
No, but you wouldn’t cower before them. 
“Whatever.” you grunt.
Your teacher comes strutting in. He’s a short older man with a large gut - a beer gut you’re certain. His arms are as skinny as his legs and his face is similar to a skeleton. You never even see the man eat, but he always had a water bottle in his hands that smells of vodka when he opens it.
“Kim Mi-sun.” he calls as he slams down a black briefcase. “Office.” he says without looking at the body of students. He takes a seat at his desk and Mi-sun groans with annoyance.
“That was fast.” Minji giggles quietly. “It hasn’t even been ten minutes.”
“Fuck off.” Mi-sun hisses. She gathers her things and makes her way out of the classroom just as more students are scurrying inside. 
“Hey, Y/N.”
Your eyes lift to see the source of the greeting and you offer a small - very small and uninterested - smile to the boy seated a few desks in front of you. 
Jang-Mi watches the exchange and she turns her head to Minji. She wiggles her eyebrows and tilts her head to the boy. 
“Who’s that?” she mouths.
Jang-mi shrugs. “Not sure.” she mouths back. “Y’N’s dare.”
Minji furrows a brow, eyes shining with realization. She erupts in a fit of giggles that causes Jang-Mi to do the same. 
Your fingers twirl a piece of your hair as your eyes watch him a few seats away from you. Your ears catch the whispered conversation of your friends besides you. 
"When are you going to say something?" asks Mi-sun with a roll of her eyes. "The dare was a week ago."
Your gum pops dramatically after Mi-sun's question. You manage to roll your own eyes, but you don't take them off of him - Jung Hoseok. His cheeks are childishly chubby, he was tall, but thin - even for a senior in high school. He wore braces and you couldn't imagine him without them - they have been implanted in his teeth for years now. 
You were no fool to Jung Hoseok's crush on you. You noticed the side eyes he'd give you in class. When your eyes met his, his eyes would blink away, and his cheeks would turn to a deep crimson. It was cute, you thought, pathetically so. As did your friends. They would laugh each time they saw Hoseok looking at you, claiming that he was nothing but a lost, kicked puppy. You'd laugh along with them even if you did see the embarrassed look on his face. 
Your friends enjoyed teasing Hoseok so much that they thought it would be an amazing idea for you - his crush - to go along with the teasing. "Ask him out. Lead him on." suggested Mi-sun. "Then break his sad, pathetic heart." laughs Jang-Mi.
You thought about their request. You never spoke to Hoseok before and never had the reason or desire to. What you knew of Hoseok was that he was smart, not straight A smart like most, but he passed his classes. He wasn't popular when it came to friend groups and opted to stay to himself or a small set of friends. 
"Oh my..." Minji hums, she leans back into her chair and crosses her arms. She just cut her long, black locs to a sharp bob. The new appearance makes her much more intimidating. "...you like him." she declares.
"I do not." your eyes glance to Minji hurriedly. "I just...he's a loser."
Mi-sun giggles and agrees.
"I don't want to be associated with a loser." you reach into your uniform skirt pocket and remove a small tube of lipgloss. You proceed to coat your lips slowly with the glossy substance, eyes on Hoseok just in time for his eyes to meet yours. His eyes glance down to your lips - plump and coated - and his cheeks flush. 
Minji cackles, followed by Mi-sun and Jang-Mi. Hoseok's head snaps away and you know he's mentally cursing at himself.
"Look at him." Minji scoffs with a shake of her head, appearing to have pity for Hoseok. "He is a loser."
"Much the more reason to play with him." Jang-Mi singsongs. She was always the much more mischievous type in the friendship. She enjoyed playing tricks and pranks, no matter how cruel they were. Min-sun would be considered the "ditzy" one of the group, but she was just as mischievous as Jang-Mi, maybe even more.
You can feel their eyes on you now. Min-sun bats her eyelashes, cat-like eyes stabbing holes into you. Jang-Mi tilts her head impatiently awaiting your response while Minji does nothing but glare. 
"If you don't, I will." Jang-Mi smirks, and now you're shaking your head. Hoseok wasn't an asshole like the rest of the boys at this school. He didn't deserve whatever cruel prank Jang-Mi would surely throw his way. 
"I'll do it." you roll your eyes and laugh. You proceed to bite your lip. "I'm sure it'll be fun."
Fun it was. You started the following day, but you remained subtle. It would cause alarms to go off in Hoseok's mind if you casually strolled up to him and became flirtatious. You didn't want to scare him off - especially if Jang-Mi's words of Hoseok being a virgin rang true. You had a plan, instead. Hoseok and you shared multiple classes and in each one, you would offer him a small smile. Your smile soon became a short wave that he would return - after looking around to ensure you were indeed waving at him and not someone else. 
Minji had grown bored of the slow burn happening before her. When you had strolled into class and ready to sit at your desk, she had slammed her foot against your chair and shook her head. She jerks her head to the side, and you follow her gaze - a desk directly next to Hoseok remains empty. 
You took a deep breath and nodded. 
You drop your bag at your new desk, startling the box next to you. His eyes slowly reached to who was beside him. His eyes catch your legs, smooth and seemingly soft. He drags them forward slowly until they notice your eyes. He freezes, heart thumping outside his chest. 
"Is this seat taken?" you ask lowly, a smirk forming on your glossy lips. 
Hoseok shakes his head but remains quiet. His palms grow sweaty, and he's worried suddenly if he remembered to wear deodorant. 
You sit beside him, eyes glancing to Minji who raises a brow at you, nodding her head. You weren't going to be able to go back to your regular seat until you did something to get closer to Hoseok.
Class starts and you go without speaking with Hoseok, even if you do notice his eyes glancing your way every few minutes. However, you understood your part in this assignment. You'd accidentally - purposely - would brush your knee on his and apologize with a cute smile. You'd proceed to lean closer towards him so your side would briefly touch his.
Hoseok's mind was going crazy the following weeks. You continued to sit beside him day by day. Your touching now was much less subtle and he's unsure of what to take of it. You never appeared to be interested in him before. He was no idiot - he was certain you caught on to his crush on you. Maybe that's why - you pitied him and his pathetic crush.
"H-huh?" Hoseok blinks a few times and shakes his head. His cheeks are tinted red with further embarrassment.
"I said," you grasp your bag and lean forward. The bell rang and it was time for lunch, but Hoseok was far too in his thoughts to notice. "do you want to come home with me?"
Your breast peaked through the uniform top and Hoseok nearly fainted at your words. He's tongue tied and soon you're cackling. 
"To study for the test, silly." you're laughing a melodic laugh that calms Hoseok's nerves. "I've seen your grades on the quizzes we had. You're so smart, Hoseok."
You think he's smart, Hosoek gulps.
"I wish I could be as smart as you." you sigh almost dramatically. 
"Y-you are....smart." Hoseok mentally shoots himself at the lame compliment.
"Thank you." you tilt your head. "So, what do you say?" 
Hoseok nods his head hesitantly. He understands that he'd want nothing more than to have you close to him. But, he couldn't be as desperate - he didn't want to scare you off. "I can come study." he murmurs lowly. 
You clap your hands together gleefully. "Thank you!"
Hoseok allows his heart shaped lips to smile at you. You looked beautiful when you were cheerful.
"We can walk home after school, okay?' you're walking backwards waiting for his response.
"Okay." Hoseok nods, heart beating outside his chest and goosebumps erupting the skin of his arm.
That was only the beginning of what happened with Hoseok - not Jay.
“Hoseok…?” you murmur, your eyes scanning his face while your mind compares it to the younger version of the man. Shame and humiliation runs through you - how could you not remember the boy; now a man?
“Ah, that’s what it took for you to remember me?” Hoseok begins to laugh, his beautiful teeth shining in front of you. “Mi-sun didn’t remember me either but she loved Jong-seok as the father of her daughter.” Hoseok shakes his head with a chuckle. 
Your blood runs cold at Hoseok’s words.
“Years ago…I remember her stating that I would never be someone she’d ever love…fuck…yet that child is mine and I don’t feel any remorse for leaving her alone and struggling.” Hoseok chuckles once more. “Ju-ho was the reason Jang-Mi had to find a new job hours away. Especially when it was revealed she was stealing from the company…”
“Hoseok, please-”
“Of course it was just a rumor but something like that doesn’t go lightly, Y/N. Her career was over and the only job willing to hire her after that…” Hoseok shrugs. “...and, Jung-ho was the one who introduced Mini to her cheating husband. He never took her seriously like she never took anything in others' lives seriously. What goes around comes around, I suppose.”
Hoseok wasn’t Jay - Jay was an act. Hoseok was cold; calculated. He strived off of revenge and spite; and the red robe he wore told you just how calculated the man truly was. 
“Hoseok…”
You’re unsure what you want to tell him. You never thought you’d see Hoseok again - much less like this. 
Hoseok tilts his head. “I didn’t tell them who I was, you know”? he admits. “I just left when my time was done.”
“Hoseok.”
“You are different, Y/N. You always were.” Hoseok presses the vibrator button and allows the pleasure to come back. “You felt remorse for what you’ve done. You admitted that I never assaulted you like your friends had said…but by then it was too late.”
Hoseok presses the buttons on the vibrator three more times and your back arches at the newfound pressure. 
“I had to change schools and only because you spoke up I wasn’t put on any registry.” Hoseok explains, his eyes fixed on how your pussy begins to leak with arousal. “Back then you pretended to like me. You allowed me to take you on dates and admit things I would never had the courage to if you never made me comfortable.”
“Please…” you pleaded, unable to talk more than one word at a time. “It’s too…much.”
“You can take it.” Hoseok grumbles, voice raspy. “You allowed me to hold your hand. You kissed me back. You…you liked it, Y/N. Only when you were caught did you back down.”
Hoseok knows you’re cumming. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your breath hitches - and he enjoys every moment of it.
“To cover up the fact that you liked it, you pushed me away, remember?” Hoseok slams a hand against your cheek to regain your attention.
 You yelp aloud, a wave of pleasure going through you. “Y-Yes!”
“You were so humiliated…frightened at what your friends would think.” Hoseok slaps you again, positive that you like what he’s doing to  you. “But I knew you adored being around me, Y/N.I was the only person you didn’t have to pretend with.”
Hoseok removes the vibrator just as you cum, you arousal coating the bed sheets. The vibrating sound echoes through the room, mixed with your low sobs. 
“I thought about what punishment you all deserved but I could never bring myself to punish you.” Hoseok speaks after a moment. He allows you to catch your breath. “Even when I met you a year ago, Y/N, it felt like it did when we were in High School.”
You flinch when Hoseok touches your face. 
“You’re flinching as if I’d ever hurt you.” Hoseok shakes his head. “I got you out of your own debt, remember? I helped uplift you while your friends were going through their own karma. I did.” Hoseok speaks, each word his voice raises higher and higher. “Right?”
“Hoseok please-”
“Right?!”
You flinch once more at the shout. “Yes.” you respond meekly. “I-I didn’t mean to go that far with you.”
“I know, baby.” Hoseok discards the vibrator and places both hands onto your face. “I know,” he repeats. “That’s why I chose to forgive you and give you another chance. Now you and I could truly be together.”
Hoseok frightened you - deep  down you tell yourself that Jay was in there somewhere. A year of loving one another, there was never any slip up. Jay cared for you. He loved you unconditionally and put you before anything.
“Don’t look at me with those eyes, Y/N.” Hoseok sighs. “You’re not scared of me. You’re scared of the situation. I would never hurt you or I would have already.”
That doesn’t make your heart beat slow.
“You and I could be together again truthfully. We can continue to love one another.” Hoseok kisses along your face, the same feathery kisses that Jay would give you. “No Mi-sun, no Jang-Mi, no Minji. Just you and I.” he speaks again, his lips pecking yours. “Right?”
Jay always loved you, but this was Hoseok and at the moment, Hoseok terrified you to the core. You were nothing without Jay and you allowed Jay to fully take care of you like he insisted.  
“Yes.” you nod, defeated and unsure of what to do. Your bound wrist hurt as did your ankles. 
“I love you, baby.” Hoseok pecks your lips once more, smiling into it.
You were sure Jay loved you, wherever inside Hoseok he was residing - and that fact was the only thing keeping you from crying further.
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midnightwriter21 · 10 months
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demon slayer hcs: giyuu meeting soulmate!reader
characters: giyuu x fem!kamado!reader, tanjiro x sister!reader, nezuko x sister!reader, sanemi (mentioned), shinobu (mentioned), urokodaki (mentioned)
warnings: blood, family death, fighting, reader is the oldest Kamado sibling
AN: soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you is tattooed somewhere on your body!! this is the longest soulmate hcs i’ve written lol
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GIYUU
you decide to spend the night over at a friends house late one night
you begin the walk home the next day at around noon
and when you return home you find your entire family slaughtered, laying in pools of their own blood
and your little brother Tanjiro and little sister Nezuko are missing
in tears, wondering what the hell happened and where your siblings are, you fail to notice the men and women approaching your home
when they get to you they explain who they are
they are the kakushi for the demon slayer corps
they check you for injuries and explain what had happened
a demon attacked your family
and your missing brother and sister are most likely dead
in a fit of rage the need for vengeance fills you
and you ask how you can become a slayer
the kakushi bring you to the butterfly mansion where you meet the head of the demon slayer corps
and filled with sympathy for you but sensing your potential, he assigns a hashira to be your mentor
and not just any hashira
The Wind Hashira
Sanemi Shinazugawa
the hot headed hashira with the deepest hatred for demons, the harshest training, and an undeniable disliking towards the water hashira, whom you haven’t met
with just a month of training, you’re headed to the Final Selection
unsurprisingly, due to your training with sanemi, you pass with flying colors
over the course of the next year, you practically fly up the ranks
being sent on several missions, training with sanemi, and of course, still grieving the loss of your siblings, Tanjiro and Nezuko
you become friends with most of the hashira due to your status of being the wind hashira’s tsuguko
but still not meeting the infamous water hashira that your teacher seems to hate
it isn’t until you receive a letter from the previous water hashira, Sakonji Urokodaki
that everything changes
he has heard of your fast progress and skill
and when hearing your last name, he realized that his newest student is your family
your little brother is alive
he passed the final selection
and he’s currently on a mission
a mission that several slayers have died on
a mission that required two hashira due to the amount of casualties
after reading the letter you practically fly out of the wind hashira’s estate
abandoning your daily training
barely hearing Sanemi’s outraged and confused yelling at your departure
running as fast as possible toward the forest that Tanjiro is supposed to be stationed in
you arrive
quickly taking off the head of a demon with the flick of your wrist as you pass by
faintly seeing the outline of a man with a mismatched haori in the corner of your eye
but continuing forward
toward your brother
faster
faster..
even faster…
you arrive
arrive just in time to block the killing blow heading towards your brother..
standing in front of Tanjiro in a defensive position with your back to him
your eyes lock onto the demon that was attacking your brother
Lower Rank 5
one of the twelve kizuki
you are so focused that you can barely hear Tanjiro whisper your name in shock
surely he thought you were dead
turning your head to softly smile at him over your shoulder you say,
“it’s alright, tanji. i’m here now.”
then, you feel a drop land on your face
a drop of blood
you look up to find your baby sister
covered in blood and tangled in the demons webs
a demon herself
in shock you stammer her name
this distraction gives lower rank 5 the opportunity to attack
he launches an attack toward you
you don’t have the time to block it
but you don’t have to
the man you caught a glimpse of earlier with the checkered haori leaps in front of you, blocking the strike
with him taking on the demon, you take the chance to leap into the air and cut the webs holding your sister
catching her as she falls, you can’t tear your eyes from her demonic form
Urokodaki did NOT mention this in his letter to you…
looking up at the sound of a head hitting the floor you realize that the man had delivered the killing blow to the attacking demon
as he turns to walk towards you and your sister, sword at the ready, nezuko stands in front of you defensively
“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER” you plead, practically in tears
his eyes widen in shock
shock from the revealed information perhaps?
possibly from pity…?
or… is that… realization?
and then, in a split second he moves behind you
and the loud ‘clang’ of two swords colliding reach your ears
he had blocked the sword of another hashira
Shinobu, the insect hashira had attempted to take the life of your little sister
realizing that he was defending you, you took the chance
grabbing your brother and sister by the hand you run
and you keep running until you hear a crow telling you to report to the butterfly mansion with your brother and sister in tow
as you begin the journey to the butterfly mansion, tanjiro informs you of the events he experienced over the last year
in turn, you tell him of your experiences
arriving at the mansion, you are greeted with the sight of the hashira
normally, you would greet the people you call friends but today they are against you
when choosing between your family or your friends
you would choose your family, everytime
glancing between the highly ranked slayers, you see the quiet man in the mismatched haori
and since the only hashira that you haven’t met is the water hashira
you can safely assume that it’s him
when the meeting starts the master announces that both Urokodaki and Giyuu Tomioka have both put their lives on the line to vouch for Nezuko
Giyuu…
that’s his name.
the appreciation and admiration that surges through you at hearing the way he is supporting your sister is unreal
but your admiration is stopped in its tracks by the arrival of your mentor
you physically wince at Sanemi’s hard gaze, drawing an almost unnoticeable puzzled look from Giyuu
after the meeting ends and after a rather loud scolding from Sanemi
you turn to Giyuu and express how thankful you are for his help, and for his support for your sister
and he speaks to you for the first time,
“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”
at his words, your heart stops
time freezes
your own wide eyes staring up into his calm ocean blue eyes in shock
you are physically frozen in shock
feeling the eyes of the other hashira staring at him he grabs you by the shoulder and leads you away from the prying gaze of the slayers
and then steps away, turning his back to you and pulling his hair over his shoulder exposing the back of his neck to you
exposing his soulmate tattoo to you
“NO! DONT! SHE’S MY BABY SISTER”
printed in your very own handwriting on his pale skin
you somewhat recover from your shock, softly tapping his shoulder to have him face you
and then copying his actions, you turn your back to him exposing the words printed onto your own neck
“what kind of person would I be if i didn’t help my soulmate when she needed it.”
sanemi was NOT happy to hear that his tsuguko is giyuu’s soulmate
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dwntwn-strnlo · 4 months
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JACK*SS matt sturniolo
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. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝑒𝓁𝓎, dwntwn-strnlo.
↳ 𝐀/𝐍. getting all my female rage out in this fic bc of ex pookie
↳ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. hockey!matthew sturniolo x reader
↳ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. matt gets into a fight while on the ice.
↳ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃? no!
↳ 𝐂𝐖! really long, tuff guy matt, profanity, physical fighting, mentions of blood/scarring, slight angst, "y/n" used, verbal argument, un resolved ending (sorry lily 🫶)
"you can't expect to get everything you want, y/n."
"all i expect is for you to not be a fucking jackass."
running your hand through your hair, you began growing nervous. you can see that matt was growing more and more agitated the longer he was on the ice, and luckily chris had caught on enough to the point where he kept looking at you curiously.
once you got a text from nick, whom was currently in the locker room had he just gotten off the ice, you knew you and chris weren't going crazy simultaneously. he had asked you if you knew what was up, and that matt had supposedly been perfectly fine before the game.
watching matt carefully as he runs across the ice, he steals the puck and heads for the goal. finally relaxing, you stand up along with the rest of the crowd, fueling on excitement for your boyfriend.
as he nears an appropriate spot to shoot, his feet get kicked out from under him. luckily he catches himself, but he lost the puck. his eyes grow wide when he finds the kid on the opposing team who illegally knocked matt over, taking the puck back.
you started to panic as matt started to panic. it looked as if his mind was racing and then flatlined in the matter of a second. not processing it as he skates up to the kid in red, body checking him to the ice.
it takes seconds for matt to land on top of him, punching him in the nose and dripping blood onto the ice. he's only able to land one punch before chris is pulling him back up to his feet. it takes everything in matt not to push off his brother in fear that he'd get dragged into the fight.
chris drags matt back several feet, trying to get him to cool off. but the kid with the last name miraz stitched on the back comes flying forward, blood dripping down his nose and rage painted on his face.
he throws a punch to matts cheek, cutting it quick enough to hit him again in the nose before the ref pulls him back.
"matthew sturniolo, 5 minute penalty for fighting." the ref calls out over the speakers. "cameron miraz, 5 minute penalty for fighting. 2 more for instigating."
"fuck." you whispered to yourself. not sure whether or not you should be pissed or concerned. eyeing the clock, you find that intermission is in a short time, so you believe that'll be your nearest chance to talk to matt.
matt skates over to the penalty box, face still hot in anger. he pulls his helmet off and drops his head back before looking ahead again. finding chris pointing his pointer finger at him, clearly annoyed, but still washed with concern for his brother. you can't distinguish what words hes using to scold matt, but you can tell it pisses him off.
you can't seem to keep your eyes on the ice for the rest of the period, your eyes stuck on the coffee-haired boy with his arms crossed over his chest.
soon enough he's let back out on the ice, though there's only a minute and a half left. you can tell his body is less frustrated, but it doesn't shake the fact that he just hit someone.
as the clock hits its final seconds, you stand up, walking down to the locker rooms to wait impatiently for you boyfriend to enter.
as the buzzer sounds, the team starts flooding in heading off into the locker room for intermission. looking seemingly defeated by the currently tied game. this game could go either way, and that's leaving them on edge.
matt's one of the last people off the ice, following closely behind chris in silence. chris meets your eyes with a shrug before disappearing into the locker room.
you're quick to grab matt, pulling him towards you-carefully as he still has his blades on.
there's still dried, as well as slightly fresh blood on his face from where he was hit in the nose and on his cheekbone. you figured that one would scar if he didn't get it taken care of soon. his emotions looked mix, leaving you struggling to figure out what he's thinking.
"matt." your murmured, trying to get his light blue eyes to meet yours. "hey, look at me." your voice was low and demanding, but you couldn't help but let it stay laced with panic.
his eyes slowly meet yours, his lips pressed in a firm line. he doesn't want to talk, and normally you'd respect that but right now you're worried and pissed and just want to make sure that he's okay.
"what's your problem?" you bit, crossing your arms over your chest.
matt looked taken back, astonished even that you came at him like that. "what are you talking about." he furrowed his brows, eyes finally glued on yours.
"baby this is your third fight this season, they're going to fucking suspend you." you sounded harsh, but you felt as if it was necessary in the moment to try and knock some sense into him.
he crossed his arms too, mirroring your image. "why do you care if i get suspended? that's not going to effect you."
letting out a breath of air, you squeezed your eyes shut for several seconds. "because you're my boyfriend, and i love and care about you." you mumbled, "i know that getting suspended would effect you, and i don't want to see you in a position like that."
"you can't expect to get everything you want, y/n." he whispered, his voice dropping significantly. struggling to find a place in his heart to argue with you about this.
"all i expect is for you to not be a fucking jackass." you snapped.
matt's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing. trying to find the right words to say. he suddenly felt small under your hot gaze, though he was significantly larger in his hockey equipment.
pressing your lips together in a line, you started to feel bad, but you still had a point to get across. "i don't know what happened today, but you're at the point where you need to learn to walk away and be the bigger person." you said, trying to meet his eyes again, which now dart around the hall. looking everywhere but you.
"he fucking tripped me." he mumbled, looking at your for a single second.
"so?" you queried. "you play hockey for gods sake. you get tripped all the time."
he squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a breath of air before looking at you again. "i'm not gonna stand here and listen to you beat down on me." he said, his voice wary. "if you don't wrap it up i'm going back and we can talk about this later." he hushed, gesturing to the locker room.
staying silent, you try thinking about what to say. clearly he doesn't want to listen to you right now, and you want to respect that. you stare at him intently, eyes drifting down to the still slightly bleeding gash on his cheek.
"get that cleaned up, and good luck with the rest of the game." you mumbled, waiting for a response before you walk off.
matt nods, and you step away, nearing the corner when he speaks up. "i love you, baby." he says.
"i love you too..." you turn your head to look at him, mumbling the same words back before disappearing around the corner.
TAGLIST
@thetriplets3 @stxrniqlo @ifilwtmfc @iha8you @oneirophobic @20nugs @gracietaylorsversions @fenoy7 @mlimmm @prettysturniolo @ssturniolo @gabbylovesreading @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @matthewmurdockswife @jellybeanbby @slaysturniolo @iheartshifting @mxqdii @luvsturniolo @lvrsparadise @partoftoofuckinmanyfandoms
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