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#he really wanted to do whatever he could to provide for them so he never cared about the physical damage it caused him
seumyo · 23 hours
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 10:32
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You tell Bakugou once that you don’t know how to take the train home, and he almost blasted your ears off with semi-yelling (or full-on yelling at some point) insults. 
“Hah?” He scoffs, eyes narrowing. This information is new to him, and a surprising one at that. 
You? The nerd that always bested him when it came to academics, which pissed him off the first few months in U.A.? The person who was not only book smart but was street and people smart as well? 
The whole goddamn package doesn’t know how to take the train?
Really?
He’s calling bull.
“What do you mean you don’t know how to take the train home? What kind of idiot doesn’t know that?”
“I just—“ you’re abashed and really don’t know what to say, “I didn’t really— I’ve never had the chance to take one until now!” For a consistent honors student, you can’t really have everything, can you?
“How’ve you been getting to school and back, then?”
“We had a driver—“
“Fuckin’ course—“
“But hey! Listen—in my defense—my schools were usually a walking distance from our house.”
“And now what? Gonna stand here and wait for a miracle to happen?”
You nudge his side with a frustrated frown (more like a pout, Bakugou thinks.) “Quit it, asshole.”
He backtracks briefly, though you could barely tell at this point. And it’s clear enough that he takes your words into consideration. It could be the fact that you actually look scared shitless right now, something foreign to your typical lax and carefree persona.
“C’mon.” Bakugou grabs you by the arm.
“Ow— hey! Where are we going?”
“You have to learn somehow, or else you’ll look fuckin’ clueless and dumb, nerd.”
You don’t argue because you really just wanted to get home, and while you could just call in your driver, you considered that this was important information that would help you in the long run. Besides, you do agree with Bakugou that not knowing how to commute like this is embarrassing, especially at your age.
“What’s this?” 
Bakugou hands you a card. It’s decorated with a minimalist logo of Musutafu’s native flower, whose color is your favorite.
“An IC card,” he simply answers.
It’s cute, you thought. You noticed how the other commuters had the standard design, so Bakugou must've gotten it personalized to your preference. How thoughtful.
“You could’ve just helped me get a ticket, though,” you murmur. You fiddle with the card in your hand, glancing at him with a puzzled expression. “I don’t think I’ll be using this card that often. It’ll be a waste.”
“Then try and use it as often as you can, nerd.”
“I’ll pay you back for this—how much was it?”
“Forget it.”
“Really, Bak—“
“Forget it,” he barks. “Keep up, you shitty extra. Or else you’d miss the last train to your station.” Bakugou starts walking, and you follow suit.
You can load your IC card at the ticket machines or the nearest ATMs. Different stations call for different ticket gates that obviously have different fares. The expiration of cards usually depends on what provider you got them from—
“What do I do now?”
You’re hesitantly in front of the ticket gate, with Bakugou on the other side. You’re like a kid who’s lost their mother in the mall.
“Just—“ Bakugou had to take a deep breath and not make a scene in the train station. He pinched the bridge of his nose, calling for all his ancestors to give him the strength to remain patient.
“Place your shitty card on the card reader. That’s it.”
You do as you’re taught, and you awed when the gates opened and let yourself walk through with a stupidly big smile on your face. “I did it!”
Bakugou thinks it’s fucking stupid of him to think that your enthusiasm for mundane things was cute. But fuck, something must be wrong with him because suddenly he feels a flurry of butterflies lodged in his throat, his heart beating ridiculously fast. 
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” 
He gives you directions, how to navigate through Musutafu without getting lost, and the basic stations you’ll be passing by to get to your station. He sees you type most of the things he says on your phone, and the way you were so eager to learn was a sight to see, really.
Boarding the metro, people were just as eager to get home as you two. So you two stood, not that there was much room to do anything about it.
“Hold onto the handle unless you want to fall on your ass,” Bakugou says. His tone is hushed to not disturb the other passengers. At least he followed basic commuting etiquette. 
“It’s so beautiful,” you breathe out. The passing buildings were as huge as those of U.A.’s, if not bigger. With the golden hue of the apparent descent of the sun below the horizon, Musutafu just became more beautiful in your eyes.
He scoffs.
“What’s so interestin’ about a buncha tacky buildings? Never seen one before you came here?”
“Of course I have; they’re just not like this.”
Bakugou follows your line of sight, and he thinks about it carefully. He couldn’t see what you saw, but maybe it’s because he grew up looking at this scenery. It doesn’t amaze him as much as it did when he was younger, he concludes. To you, this was a first. 
An experience that could become a core memory in this city. And he’s with you as you live through it. The thought causes a familiar feeling of pride to exude from his chest.
Maybe he’ll learn to appreciate more mundane things with you too in the future.
The train stops at another station, and the people scurry out. Once in motion, you were surprised by the speed when it took off, and the motion had you stumbling back. You stumble against Bakugou.
“What did I say about keeping a firm hold on the handles, you shitty extra? That’s what those are for.” Whether it’s by instinct or unintentional, Bakugou guides your hand to hold onto the support pole. He doesn’t let go, and you didn’t make a comment about it.
“Sorry! Still getting used to it,” you quietly laugh. “I hope the people here don’t think I’m really that inexperienced when it comes to taking the metro home,” you told him. “It’s embarrassing to think that I haven’t taken one until now.”
Bakugou thinks it’s alright because you were actually on set to learn. No matter what those other extras say or comment, no matter if they give you unimpressed glances, he’s there to grant them one of his own spine-chilling glares if they had the balls to do so. 
A passenger who appeared to be around your age stood up from his seat. “Excuse me, you can take my seat. I get off at the next stop,” he says. You’re a bit hesitant to take the offer, but he reassures you that it’s fine. It’ll be an awkward death for you if you don’t accept it, because now he’s standing. “Please, I insist.”
Unknown to you, Bakugou had an obvious scowl on his face until the stranger left.
“You look like you’re about to shit yourself.”
“Shut up, I’m not.”
“Jealous?”
“Hah? Why would I be—”
“Shh!” you kicked his shoe with yours.
“Quiet, remember?���
Bakugou rolls his eyes, still frowning. You hold his free hand, cheekily smiling when he tries to free it from your hold. And in the end, he lets you do whatever the fuck it is that you want, but he would never ever admit that he was jealous of some nameless extra. He’s too far into liking you to help you board a train, get you a personalized IC card, miss his stop two stations ago because yours was still three stations after his, but he doesn’t think he’d be vocal about it anytime soon.
He’ll leave it to you to confess.
Then again, you already knew.
Bakugou Katsuki would not go above and beyond like this for anyone else, but he unknowingly does for you.
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sashimiyas · 2 years
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what i love about the twins (miya) is that when it comes to their partners, they do not understand the concept of me before you.
and what i mean by that is, a partnership with them embodies the true meaning of us and a family unit. you become one with them. your emotions are theirs and despite them being upset, if you need consolation, it will always be you before them.
it's easy to look at them as selfish, but naturally, because they've always shared everything, they look at their partners as a true extension of themselves. atsumu's grief has never been for him to own. he knows that if he loses, the loss does not affect just him, but osamu as well.
so when it comes to emotions, the twins have never regarded their feelings as their own. everything has consequences and the direct and indirect effects are far more apparent because they have each other.
your pain is theirs. your success is theirs. you are part of who they are. and that's why it will always be you. you over him and never him over you.
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notherpuppet · 2 months
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I wrote the full parody to Ready For This in the Role Reversal AU because I wanted to lol.
Transcription below.
Ready For This (Role Reversal AU parody)
Alastor: Have you ever wanted something
That was so clear in your mind that you could taste it?

Susan: You mean like ice cream you get for a friend?

Alastor: Ha! No.
It's a feeling like a rumbling in your gut
That you could finally be faced with
A million greedy faces, I guess what I mean to say is

For the first time in my life
I might have to be ready for this
Ready to be the one who's leading from the front

Couldn’t do it on my own
And history has shown
Legends cannot win wars alone

The burden is a bit too heavy
So I need to be ready for this

Have you ever felt like you're willing to kill
To save the people on your own team?

Susan: I don’t know, seems a bit extreme…

Alastor: Not to me!
'Cause right now, we need a leader
And it seems to be that
Charlie is forcing me to be that
because she’s pissy

So who's with me?

Wouldn't it just be swell to see more of Hell?
Join up now if you like travel
Come on girls, prepare for battle!
Lotta sights to see en route to the hotel
Not to mention all of the glory!

Yes indeed, your enemies will cower
And heads will be severed!

Charlie: You’ll make a bunch of brand new friends!

Alastor: Whatever.

Exorcists: New friends!?
I'm in
Oh whoa
I’m so lonely

It's time now to act
They're on the attack
When they move to strike
Just know we’ve got your back!

We'll follow your lead
We're eager to see
everyone we meet
On the hellish retreat!

From this moment on, you can count us in
To be organized and disciplined

Our thirst for justice
keeps us strong, fierce, and brave
So I say, "Ho hey! Let’s join in his crusade!"

Alastor: Now thats the spirit! Can we amp it up?
Vaggie: Oh, don’t mind their hesitation, that’s just their new inclination

Alastor: But I can awaken their bloodlust!
Vaggie: Careful, kid. Don’t push your luck!
Alastor: Fair enough…

Alastor and Vaggie: We're super duper grateful
To have you gals aboard

Exorcists: We can’t wait to hug an overlord! (Alastor: Yeah, sure...)

Alastor: For the first time in my life
Maybe I can be ready for this
I can be the marshal leading the parade

I can come into my own
And I think I've always known
My destiny could never be postponed

When they come for the hotel
I’ll give em hell cuz I’m ready for this!

Vaggie: They're dancing along?
They're singing his song!?
Charlie: Surprised?
Why, I knew he could do it all along!

Charlie and Vaggie: He’s bound to be redeemed, the dream has a chance!
Though he seemed hopeless at first glance…

Charlie: He’s filled with potential that I could guide!
Vaggie: Fine, I’m in.

Charlie and Vaggie: Stick with him, he will surely see the light!

All: For the first time in our lives
We know that we are ready for this

Vaggie: We’ll show them we can forgive and forget!

All: It's time to lend a hand

Alastor: It is time to take a stand! (Exorcists: Woohoo!)
Against overlords and their deadly threat!

All: We can provide your support
The time has come to stop a war
Defend your home, we're ready for...
THIS!

Alastor: I really hope that they’re ready for this...
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bunni-v1 · 7 months
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First Years Finding Out Your A Girl?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mild swearing, STRICTLY Female Reader, Discussion of Jack having a good sniffer (lol)
Info: Headcannons; Ace, Deuce, Jack, and Epel x Reader (platonic); Mostly for fun
🍓Hi. I'm back... sorta. I didn't have much time to write over the summer, and I honestly don't know how much I can write during school cause my schedule is... yikes. But I picked up something I wrote a while ago, edited it, and decided to post it. I'll be answering whatever's in my ask box right now, and then maybe work on some other stuff.
Ortho & Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
Dorm Leaders
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course, but we’ll get to him).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
FIRST-YEAR SQUAD
Ace
-He’s one of the first ones who find it out, and it’s in the very cliche anime way.
-After some point of knowing you, Ace is so comfortable that he just invites himself into ramshackle. 
-It’s never been an issue or anything. You’re thick as thieves now, you’ve survived death together a handful of times. If you ask Ace, that’s about as close as you can get with someone.
-Normally, you and Grim are just sitting around in the living area, but this time you aren’t. However, he does hear voices coming from your room. His curiosity is peaked.
-So, slippery guy that he is, he sneaks up to your room and his curiosity only grows when he hears a woman’s voice. Prefect getting lucky? And he didn’t tell him? Ace thought you guys were friends.
-He creeps up to your room, slides open your door, and!!! Holy shit it’s you. It’s you in a towel. It’s you and you’ve got tits?!?! 
-His first reaction is to… well… scream.
-“You’re a girl?!?”
“Why are you in my room???”
“You’ve got- boobs!”
 “Get out Ace!”
-Bro sits very politely and very quietly on your couch after that. Deep behind his blank stare, he is seething. You were a girl this whole time, and you didn’t tell him! He thought you guys were friends!
-He definitely fights you about it once you’re down and dressed. He’s just salty, he’ll get over it. 
-Swears up and down he won’t tell anyone.
-Immediately tells Deuce.
-That's it though! Deuce is part of the main quartet, he deserves to know! (You scold him for this too, but you figured it would happen one way or another).
-From him finding out, he doesn’t really treat you differently. You’re still a person, why should he act differently cause you’ve got different body parts than him.
-Though, and he won’t admit this, he’s a bit more… watchful of the others around you. Yeah, you can hold your own and he respects you… but guys like Azul exist, and he’s seen firsthand the torture Azul is capable of. 
Deuce
-As stated before, Ace outs you to Deuce almost immediately after finding out.
-Deuce, in all his awkward glory, completely shuts down. Disconnects from this plane of existence. He cannot believe the news he was just told.
-You, one of his best friends in all of twisted wonderland. You, the person who survived multiple overblots alongside him. You, who have seen him at his most vulnerable… are a girl.
-It isn’t even the fact that you’re a girl, it’s the fact that you kept this a secret from him for so long. You guys are… bros… how could you possibly hide something so important from him. Did you not trust him?
-Yeah… he overthinks things quite a bit.
-He also ambushes you the very next day with a million questions (very loudly (very in public)), to which you calm him down and reassure him that “No, Deuce, I don’t suddenly hate you. I wasn’t hiding it from you maliciously. I was going to tell you at some point, I just hadn’t had a good time to.”
-Deuce’s behavior definitely… changes… in some ways. 
-Deep down he knows you’re a kick-ass bitch and you don’t need to be cared for, but he can’t help but want to. 
-It’s definitely his mommy issues in play here.
-He just becomes more… protective and aware around you. Not in a creepy obsessive way, just in the same way a guard dog would. 
-Like Ace, he’s more than aware of what the people on this campus are capable of, and you’re completely magicless on top of being more feminine. Some guys at NRC would hop on an opportunity like that like nothing.
-He just doesn’t want to see his friends getting hurt okay :(
-It’s like you gained an overprotective older brother who also sometimes barks!
Jack
-Out of everyone, Jack was the first to find out.
-I don’t wanna be the cliche writer but… he’s got a sniffer on him. 
-He definitely could smell that something was up, but he didn’t want to assume! 
-You could be trans, you could be genderfluid, you could be anything other than a woman! It’s not his place to judge, and smell isn’t always the end all be all. You could just really smell feminine and that's how guys come in your world.
-Mr. Respectful would never want to assume anything… but he’s a little curious he won’t lie.
-Jack REALLY found out shortly after Ace, Deuce and Grim got their asses in trouble with Azul. 
-He’d never been given a reason to spend any more than a few minutes around you at a time. However, since he got pulled into this mess, he’s spent a lot more time with you.
-It happened when he was forced to hide under the desk in his office.
-You were so close and you just… smelled like a girl.
-He is so polite and so upstanding, he would NEVER ask you directly. But the suspense of not knowing really does take a number on him.
-By the end of Azul’s overblotting he is so awkward and nervous around you, that you absolutely have to say something.
-At this point, you figured most of the beastmen had an idea of you being feminine, however, you had no real confirmation of that. 
-Jack is such a “let's not bother other people” kind of guy, that you knew he wouldn’t want to say anything to you if you knew… so you decided to take the plunge.
-At the museum, you pull him aside and you have to ask.
_”Jack?”
“Hm?”
“You know, don’t you?”
“…”
“I figured as much. Don’t tell anyone, m’kay? I want to tell my friends on my terms.”
-It makes Jack respect you more than he already did. Not only did you have the confidence to confront him, but you did it calmly and you were understanding of his position.
-And honestly? Not much changes between the two of you.
-He just respects you a little more. He’s not particularly protective around most other students, he talks to you the same, and he doesn’t act like you’re special. You’re just… a friend. 
-The only thing that he may be different about is other beastmen. He does his best to shield you from them if he feels they might be a threat to your well-being. 
Epel
-Epel, being a more feminine-looking man himself… doesn’t think much of you.
-At this point, you’re well acclimated to things at nightraven college, and are very good at being “one of the boys.”
-His ONLY implication is how… differently Rook and Kalim treat you.
-At this point, Kalim has found out via the previous chapter, and Rook knows because of course he does. (We won’t be getting into that today though)
-They both are more… delicate with you? Rook whips out the charm times ten when you’re around. Kalim, although friendly with everyone, seems to be even MORE friendly when you’re around. Like he wants you to like him.
-Even Deuce and Ace have a few… odd tells.
-They both pointedly ensure Jamil is at least five feet away from you at all times. Glare at Rook when he’s a little too charming.
-Other than that, nothing really gives it away.
-Epel is completely and totally in the dark because you’re really good at hiding that you’re a woman.
-He does, however, eventually find out because… Deuce slips up. He’s there giving his big speech on the beach, hyping Epel up, and somehow he manages, “And the prefect is a woman, but she never lets that get in her way!”
-Epel: Shocked, confused, in awe… says nothing. He lets the information ruminate.
-He lets it ruminate for a very long time.
-So long, in fact, that he doesn’t raise his suspicions until the two of you are on a broom heading off to save Vil’s life.
-The silence was killing him, so he had to ask.
-“Prefect, are you a girl?”
“You didn’t know?”
“I couldn’t be sure, I look like a girl too, so you never know.”
“Yes, Epel, I’m a girl.”
“…Cool.”
-Honestly, he’s kind of jealous of you. You passed better than him, and you had to try harder.
-It doesn’t change how he treats you, honestly. He’s not that kind of country bumpkin, but he won’t lie and say he doesn’t have a little resentment held against you.
-He thinks you’re cool as hell, and you help redefine what femininity can look like to him much better than what Vil does.
-He, however, does actively become more protective of you. 
-Not because he thinks you can’t fend for yourself, but because he kinda wants to show off a little.
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ozzgin · 3 months
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I love your work! you have such a fun take on yandere's and I would love to see what kind of yandere hcs you could cook up for a host-club / paid to go on dates with you yandere ❤️ double points if you can make it so that the reader is never really one to cross a line or think the yandere really likes them...
If you don't want to do this prompt tho I completely understand ❤️
The idea makes me a little nostalgic as it gives me Ouran vibes. Also reminded me I've never played 'Men of Yoshiwara' past the prologue, which also has male courtesans ready to service you. In any case, it's definitely something I can expand on! :)
Yandere! Host x Reader
You've never considered yourself to be the type frequenting host clubs. Yet the loneliness is becoming noticeable and perhaps it's your lack of experience keeping you out of the dating scene. Mingling with paid professionals could prepare you for a future boyfriend. Except your assigned host has other plans in mind for you.
Content: gender neutral reader, inexperienced reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation
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Ah, you definitely don't belong here. He can tell within seconds and he hasn't even reached the table yet. You're nervously readjusting the sleeves of your shirt - do you usually not wear such outfits? - and merely glance around the room for a brief moment before casting your eyes back down in sheepish modesty. Well, not necessarily a sight of unpreceded novelty. Many people are intrigued by the idea of a host club, so even just idle curiosity is enough incentive for one to end up among the charismatic crowd of paid affections. Today it's you who has stumbled into the hungry mouth of the wolf, and he happens to be the one to entertain you away from whatever unpleasantries are currently consuming you.
He gently stretches his slender fingers across your shoulder, a feathery touch light enough as to not startle you. You look up and acknowledge his presence, ready to stand up for introductions. His hold on you is firm, letting you know there is no need to leave the comfort of your sofa. "Now then, this isn't a job interview. You don't need to be so formal." He explains with a chuckle. You nod. Embarrassingly enough, your eyes are glued to his face for longer than what you'd consider polite admiration. A waste of good looks is your immediate thought. Surely someone as stunning as him could've worked as a model or actor. You suspect he isn't as enthusiastic to meet you as his voice leads one to believe, so the ability to pretend certainly isn't missing.
One peek at the table next to you, and the answer quickly presents itself. An older woman is inspecting the menu, surrounded by multiple bottles of champagne whose name even you recognize. You doubt the average acting career could provide this amount of luxury. The corners of your lips curl slightly upwards in a pitiful self awareness. Sadly for this guy, you're not a big spender. Whether he, too, is aware of this disappointing fact is impossible to tell. His handsome features remain cheerfully relaxed. "Tell me about yourself. What brings a darling like you here?" He inquires graciously, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he settles before you with an intent gaze.
You narrate your hardship: whether because of your looks or your awkwardness, something impedes you from having acquired a partner; and so the idea of gaining experience through less orthodox means came to fruition. Your host listens carefully, refilling your glass every now and then with a compassionate frown, lips parted in unspoken sympathy. Of course, he understands. Naturally. Once you're finished, he straightens himself in newfound determination: worry not, he will be your coach in love.
Thus begins the unusual partnership. You hadn't expected the man to readily agree to such a ridiculous request. A handful of visits have made it clear to you he's in high demand, most likely one of the top earners. Why would he waste his precious (and otherwise profitable) time with a humble customer like you? Maybe it's bad form to refuse lower paid offers too often, so he's keeping you for balance. You'll never know. His professionalism betrays no hint of annoyance.
You cannot help but marvel at his masterful lying. It becomes quite clear to you why so many people fall helplessly in love with paid hosts. Everything is executed with the utmost care for detail. The loving caress of the cheek he occasionally initiates, seemingly unprompted. The long, ardent stares into your eyes, as you must practice your eye contact. His hot lips brushing against your fingers while he spoils you with diminutives and sickly sweet words of appreciation.
You frequently have to remind yourself that everything is dictated by a contract. A code of conduct meant to be replicated for you and all other clients coming afterwards. How many other poor souls fawn over this alluring devil? You wouldn't want to burden him with an additional customer who forgets boundaries. You know your place too well.
Admirable manners. Frustratingly so. He wishes you'd just give in already and drop the shy act around him. You've caught his interest from the moment he spotted you in that cluttered, crowded room reeking of overpriced alcohol and solitude. Everything about you signaled blindingly clear: you're someone others can easily take advantage of. To think you would've landed right in his hands, to be molded as he pleases. The little sob story about being inexperienced with men, your clumsy attempts to follow along his flirts. Oh, you're just begging to be defiled. Again, and again and again, until there's nothing left of you. Then he'd caringly patch you back together and start anew. His very own corner of innocence.
The indecent daydreams are cut short when you proudly announce, during one of your dates, that you finally feel confident enough to pursue a genuine partner. You have booked a nice hotel room for this occasion; One last gesture of grandeur to show your gratitude for all the advice and love (even though it wasn't genuine). He's sitting on the edge of the plush mattress, dumbfounded, fiddling with the thick, ornate border of the bed runner. Huh? What the hell are you talking about? He's spent all this time getting to know you. What gets you flustered and bothered, what makes you excited, sad, anxious, angry, bored. He taught you how to come out of your shell. Why, so you can go ahead and waste yourself on some fucking idiot?
"My, aren't you eager. You haven't even had your first kiss." He says with a cheeky smile. "I think I can manage-" you want to say, but he quickly interrupts with a curt: "No one likes an amateur kisser". You're immediately silenced. His voice sounds cold, with a hint of anger in it. "I'm sorry, darling love, it's true." He resumes in an entirely different tonality, dragging his words with an eerie kindness attached to them. He tuts a little, turning towards you and patting his knees. There, there, don't look so deflated. If a simple observation like his hurt you this much, how would you handle the much meaner, downright heartless world out there?
Such is reality. Men are cruel and you had the bad luck to be born with a gentle heart. He delicately guides you to sit in his lap, cupping your burning face between his large hands. He knows this expression too well - you're humiliated. And thus, can he truly allow anyone else out there to see you so vulnerable like this? No, this kind of intimacy is reserved for him. You must understand. He has disciplined you to his liking, and simultaneously learned all the nooks and crannies of your being. It's too late to go back to a simple host and client relationship.
"Why don't you practice with me first, love?" He breaks the silence, placing his lips against your forehead in encouragement. You feel a sudden pressure faintly throbbing underneath you. "T-the kiss?" You ask hesitantly, trying to ignore the sensation and squirming in his tightening hold.
"Everything."
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sukunasweetheart · 4 months
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the whole court and justice system stuff going on right now in jjk is giving me ideas for modern au where criminal!sukuna put on trial for some heinous deeds he's done... but upon a fated happenstance he gets to hire the most perfect and competent defence lawyer who manages to somehow get him out of the situation as a free and innocent man. and being the charismatic and so very thoughtful man that he is, he decides he wants to do something for you in return...
warnings; female reader, smut, oral fem!receiving, mentions of murder and killing, dubcon-ish, morally corrupted reader, mildly submissive sukuna, male masturbation, cum in panties
words: 2.3k
criminal!sukuna, who's showing you gratitude in the only way he knows how... somewhere in a secluded room with the door locked behind. he sinks to his knees and hikes up your skirt, slides your panties down...
criminal!sukuna, who's kneeling down while your back is against the wall, one of your legs propped up on his shoulder as he eats you out so good that you're shuddering and twitching with every flicker of his tongue against your clit...
criminal!sukuna, who is getting drunk on the taste of you on his tongue, disregarding the fact that his face is beginning to sweat from the heat between your legs, and his cock is so hard that it hurts right now.
criminal!sukuna, who pulls out orgasm after orgasm out of you, not minding your slick that dribbles down his chin from doing so.
(how far will you let him take this?)
sukuna hadn't really cared much, whether he were to be ruled as innocent or be judged as guilty and sent to prison. he really was just planning on going with the flow, whichever direction life threw him in-- he's not one to cry and throw a tantrum over spoiled milk... if he gets locked up, so be it, he'd either find a way to cunningly get back out or he'd probably rise to the top amongst the inmates inside.
so even when he was introduced to you, a famously proficient defence lawyer and the top in your field, he wasn't expecting much from you at all.
but upon his first meeting with you, you managed to pique his interest when you confessed that you didn't give a fuck whether he's actually a criminal or not. as long as he's paying good money, you're going to get him out with 100% innocence. and to do that, you'll need a bit of his cooperation and honesty. whatever information you ask for, he needs to provide. so you can either slip it under the rug, or use it to your advantage in court.
he already thinks you're pretty fuckin' sexy. your formal and classy lawyer fit, tight ass pencil skirt... he'd like to get under it. your snobby and overly professional attitude. hah. he'd like to rip that away from you and see what's underneath all of it.
but for now, he does as you advise of him.
there were many instances where masses of journalists with their obnoxious mics and flashing cameras surrounded sukuna while he was getting moved from place to place with cuffs on his hands. he remained expressionless, all while thinking of how nice it would feel to paint the concrete floors with the blood of all these people. he'd even spare one of them, so they could publish whatever rubbish story they wanted. let the whole world know what he is.
and amongst all those who were against him, there really was only you. he's not quite used to this feeling, of having someone at his defence. he's never really needed it until he eventually slipped up and a detective caught onto his trail. he spent a considerable amount of time with you one-on-one.
while he was detained for a time before the trial began, there were times you visited him because you needed some confirmation on some of the information you had, but you also wanted to give him some advice on how he should answer questions when he was being interrogated.
"well, aren't i lucky to have a visitor with such a pretty face? nothing but unsightly insects and the stench of men in this filthy place," sukuna crooned with mischief in his tone, sitting himself down in front of you as a thin transparent wall separated the two of you.
"endure it. you won't be here for long after all."
god, he'd never seen someone with more confidence than himself in a long while. he wondered how you'd look if you did end up losing the trial. what a humiliation that would be. but something inside him said that you were going to prevail. his gut feelings are usually never wrong.
he's still quite nonchalant about it all, but oh boy, when he's sat next to you in court and watches you defend him against the prosecutor in front of a crowd for the first time... it does something to him. your voice, confident and clearly audible, how you articulate your words... all for his sake? (not really. but you get what i mean.)
"i know being cocky is your whole theme... but it'd be helpful if you could refrain from smirking or looking unapologetic during the trial. to get the jury on our side." you'd told him.
and he's trying, he really is (kind of...), but the corners of his mouth keep rising every time you debunk a piece of evidence presented by the prosecutor with ease. their expressions are really amusing. it's obvious how frustrated they are getting.
then he also thinks about what you'd said to him after that.
"ah, but perhaps... the media will favour you a bit better. they're always biased towards handsome faces. and don't underestimate the public's influence on court rulings."
you'd called him handsome, in such a matter of fact way. not that it was a rare occurrence- but something about you openly admitting it with your rigid personality had him going in a way no one else could.
in a matter of weeks, the tables had turned completely, and the court ruled him as an innocent man.
triumphant, you gathered your documents neatly put them in one pile. he's declared free to go, and while the place slowly empties of people, you meet sukuna in a now empty hall.
"so, you've set me free. knowing that i really was the one who did it," he voices dangerously, with a smirk. "i'd have to say, it's foolish thing to do. what if i made you my next victim? criminals know no courtesy, after all."
"you paid me a hefty sum. i don't do this for courtesy, you should know this by now. if i die by the hands of someone i defended, then so be it. i'll gladly bear the consequences of my own actions."
part of him wants to test your words. but it'd be such a waste to have you dead. right now, he's aching for something else.
"bold statement. you're not even a bit afraid? my cuffs have been off for a while now." you don't flinch even as he reaches out and palms your cheek. his hand is warm.
"not at all. you've been the most unreadable criminal i've defended, but after speaking to you for a while, i believe i've gotten better at interpreting your expressions."
"you've been reading me like a book, hey? well, enlighten me. i'm interested in hearing your thoughts."
"i may know what you want, but i don't plan on giving it to you. that's one line i don't cross with my clients."
"...oh yeah? well, good thing i'll be the one giving instead. how about we find an empty room first?"
"i don't need-"
"or should we do it here? do you like being an exhibitionist?"
you purse your lips together and give him a stern look, arms crossed.
"c'mon sweetheart. keep staring at me like that, and i'll get hard."
"enough. i have another client waiting."
"i'm sure you do. so i'll make it quick. you deserve a little something after all that hard work."
in the end, he successfully drags you off to a secluded room, somewhere in the building.
which finally brings you to present time...
sukuna's knees are probably going to be bruised later on. but at the moment, he doesn't feel a thing. all he can feel is arousal when he hears your whines and moans that seem so unlike you. gripping at his head, full body twitching as he sucks around your puffy and swollen clit, every huffing breath he takes in having the scent of you drenched in it.
you reach your third orgasm while standing in his manner, and he groans deeply as he feels it, your cunt pulsing against his lips.
you're clasping a hand over your mouth, but your muffled noises are still audible. deep down, you're starting to admit that perhaps you needed this, after all. sukuna was undeniably attractive, and you'd been constantly reminding yourself that he was but a murderer with blood on his hands... all for your efforts to come crashing down now.
it feels too good. he's getting you hot and bothered in a way no one else does. his hands palm and grope your asscheeks, touching whatever he can. whatever you'll let him.
once your clit begins to get too sensitive that it hurts, you have to push him away. and when he comes out from under your skirt, you take quite the liking to the state of his disheveled hair, flushed cheeks, your slick shining on his chin, and his glassy eyes. your leg comes off his shoulder, and the two of you are panting for a full minute before saying anything.
"fuck... i'll be honest, it was better than i thought it would be," you tell him, chest still rising up and down from the sexual high.
"bet it was. it's the least i could do after you were so good to me..." sukuna responds teasingly with a hoarse voice, looking up at you with his knees still against the floor, grinning.
you stare back, until your eyes wander down to the outline of his dick in his pants, clearly strained by the fabric.
"and what about you?" you ask with plenty a playfulness in your tone, smiling so gracefully. his cock visibly throbs when you mention it. you nudge it, gently dragging the tip of your toe up it's shape, still wearing your heels. sukuna doesn't hate it. in fact, he has to swallow up a moan coming from the back of his throat.
"feeling gracious enough to help relieve me?" he says with a cloudy haze in his eyes, grabbing your ankle with one of his calloused hands.
"hmm...not really. but i'm willing to watch you do it yourself."
"how perverted. to think you were so opposed to this, minutes before-"
you press down harder against his erection using the sole of your heel, and he groans, unable to stop himself this time.
"is that a no?"
"...if you'll let me finish in your panties, i will," he relents.
you give it some thought. and then you agree to it.
sukuna stands, and he stands close, towering over you with his height. he wastes no time in unbuckling himself.
revealing his thick cock, you marvel at its size and the way its drooling precum, veins running along its side and twitching against his palm. he begins to stroke himself. other hand against the wall behind you, he starts jacking off like he would if no one were around. like you're not there right in front of him.
you watch with a small smile, staring at his hand that goes up and down his erection at a fast pace. staring down at his leaking tip. listening to his small grunts and the wet sound of him fucking his fist.
then your gaze begins to wander. your eyes trail up and up, reaching his face, where you realise that he's looking directly at you. lust in his irises. your reflection shining in both those pupils of his.
sukuna hasn't touched himself in a while. he's never really needed to. but with a few words from you, he willingly obliged. now when you meet his eyes like that, he can't resist leaning down for a messy kiss with you, all while mumbling "mm..fuck-" against your lips.
he angles his hips closer to your pussy, making it so that every stroke makes his tip catch onto your clitoris. his hand speeds up. you hitch in a breath at the tension, at how close he is, as he's basically leaning into you now.
"i'm close... open up," he mutters into your ear, breaking the kiss.
your panties are hanging between your thighs, and you slip them up a little more up for him. his breathing starts to get faster.
"shit... 'm cumming-"
he aims it to the fabric of your underwear, and releases. sukuna groans deeply, twisting his hand towards the head of his bulbous tip as he spurts rope after rope of his seed on, hips jerking and dick throbbing with every hot string that comes out.
your hole clenches around nothing at the sight. there's so much. you're slightly starting to regret agreeing to this. it might seep out if he continues letting out this much.
thankfully, he comes to a stop soon. he squeezes himself for one last drop, and then his cock starts softening in his hand.
"all done?" you ask.
"every last drop." he watches you with a smirk as you pull it up. the warmth of it hits your cunt and you hide the way it feels arousing. he also tucks himself back in.
"now i'm running late," you say with a frown, taking a quick look at your wristwatch.
"so you actually had someone waiting?" he questions, raising an eyebrow.
"of course. why would i lie about that?"
the thought of you seeing another client with his sticky mess between your legs makes him a little hard again. you start heading off to the door, but he blocks your way.
"we'll be seeing each other again, won't we?"
"i don't know. will we?"
"of course we will," he offers slyly. "i'll have you choking on my dick, next time."
he's very adamant about it, and it doesn't seem like he'll let you through unless you give some sort of agreement to him.
"we'll see about that," you tell him. and then you follow it up with a small kiss to his cheek, which stuns him slightly. you make your way out the door and he stands as he listens to your footsteps that get further and further away.
...he knew that jerking off once would be far from enough for him. he regrets not asking for your panties instead.
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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months
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yandere!Alastor with gender-neutral!tinkerer!reader headcanons
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Warning: obsessive behavior, implied violence, stalking, implied manipulation, and knowledge based on the 2019 pilot episode.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
If you would like to read the SFW version of these headcanons, there are some written by @isuckatwritingsobenice. I will leave the link to them here.
Special thanks to @isuckatwritingsobenice, @angelltheninth, and @ceoofdabicorpsensfw for providing feedback and helping me shape up these headcanons into what they are today, my first Hazbin Hotel fic in quite a long time!
If you would like to me to keep up the momentum and write more for Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss, please let me know via a request or in the comments section below!
With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show! :)
Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades!
He will not fall for someone who is naive and oblivious to the dangers that lurk around every corner. His preference for a darling is someone who is intelligent, yet malleable to his manipulative machinations, though he would call it being a considerable gentleman.
So, imagine his surprise when you, the maintenance operator Charlie had hired during the hotel’s open house after being thoroughly impressed with your resume, piqued his interest. He had heard that you were very good at repairing broken things. Whatever it was that needed to be fixed, you could do it efficiently and with a smile.
The only thing you would not touch, however, were Angel’s sex toys. He found you at Husk’s bar, whining and clutching what looked like a purple cucumber with a white handle, coated in….an unknown substance. You looked at it, then back at Angel, confused and blinking owlishly at him. You asked him to hold it up in the light so you could see it, just don’t let it touch you because…well, you really did not want to.
The adult film star did, and you tilted your head to the side, staring at it for a moment before pulling away.
“It should be an easy fix.” You said. “Do you think it is a higher priority than preventing the hotel from being flooded with water?” You asked, glancing up at him. The genuinity in your voice as you spoke to him, curious and asking if fixing his device is really more important at the moment, made Alastor chuckle from the shadows. Dear ol’ Husker looked like he was about to keel over from laughter too~!
“If it’s an easy fix like ya say it is, then yes!” Angel whined. “I need it fixed by tomorrow! Can ya maybe work on it, like, after you make sure this place doesn’t get flooded?”
You blinked. “That shouldn’t be an issue. Okay. Did you try looking for the manual in the box it came in?”
“There’s a manual for it in there?!”
You nodded. “There should be. Or at least a phone number for customer service.”
Oh, such dialogue between two unique characters brightened Alastor’s mundane afternoon considerably and deepened his interest in the ever diligent and mild-mannered sinner who never seemed to stop working!
He watched you from the shadows, learning about your likes and dislikes and your….relationships with the others, clients and hotel staff alike. None of which, as he has seen, never went beyond the boundary of polite professionalism. Imagine his surprise when his shadow discovered your daily ritual to lock yourself in the maintenance office and curl up on the couch in there for an hour nap, and how you cannot sleep without the vintage radio on your desk being played on low volume. As much as he wanted to sweep you off of your feet with a night around the city and a lovely candlelit dinner, Alastor could not act too recklessly. That wasn’t how his mother raised him. No, no, no, he was a gentleman!
And a gentleman knows how to bide his time in the art of courting. Expect him to flood your office with bouquets, expensive gifts, and a request to personally fix his microphone even when it was working just perfectly.
Who knows? Perhaps while you’re sleeping soundly, in your office or in your bedroom, he will turn the knob of your radio just a little to the left so it is the music of his radio station that fills the silence. Think of it as….insurance. With the magic he possessed as an overlord, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to comprehend that he did care about you in his own way. And he would like to think you will, in time, come to enjoy his music with a smile.
After all, you’re never fully dressed without one!
Bonus Content
If you accept his courtship, Alastor’s possessiveness will reach to the point where he will absolutely insist that you should move into his quarters and share the bed. For his peace of mind and your own protection.
After all, you’re his precious little doe. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in this cesspool~.
Taglist
@angelltheninth
@isuckatwritingsobenice
@selineram3421
@vikkirosko
@nixie-writes
@thatstonedwriter
@lbcreations-blog
@aurora-rose-miller
@yosemitecleo
@doc-tooth
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oval3000 · 5 months
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Yandere CEO Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warning: Toxic behavior, age gap, Violence, death, daddy kink, very toxic, smut, porn with a little plot, grumpy Miguel. Modern au- ish. The reader understands Spanish.
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Prologue: Your mother was the type of mother who would move from boyfriend to boyfriend. She could never keep a man on her hip for a long period of time, which was one of the reasons why your father was hardly present (he passed away when you were young anyway). Every time she got a boyfriend, she would forget that you're her daughter and would always choose the man over you. When she told you about her new boyfriend, you were over it. Nothing's new here. When you first met Miguel, you honestly didn't bother to learn a lot about him or to remember his name; however, he stuck the longest. You were quite surprised when you saw him more often. When you entered your freshman year of college, that's when she announced that Miguel wanted the both of you to move in with him.
You weren't too thrilled, but you were happy that your mom was getting serious about this. Besides, Miguel seems to be a nice gentleman. As the CEO of a science company, it was very impressive that your mom caught someone like him. He had manners and was humble about his success. He wasn't the type of rich man who would spend a lot of time partying and drinking; he was laid-back and spent more time in his office. You also hardly ever see him smile. Not seeing him smile made you wonder about the relationship between him and your mom. Three months after moving in, your mom's old habits came back. She would go out and party with her friends. She would drink wine every now and then. You know she makes bad choices when she drinks alcohol, so when you saw her coming home late and drunk, you were disappointed. She acted like a high school girl, which made you feel embarrassed. A lot of people would tell you to give your mom a break and that having a child can be difficult, so you shouldn't judge a mother for having 'fun'. But when you were little, she was late to pick you up from school because she was too busy at the mall with her friends; it made you feel unnoticed. Or when she would miss your school events when they gave you an award for what you're good at because she was too hungover from last night's fun; it made you feel unwanted. Or when one of her boyfriends dragged you outside of the house because you didn't want to leave so they could have some 'alone time' and your mom yelled at you for not listening, it made you feel unloved. Sure, moms have a right to live their lives, but they also have a responsibility to care for their children.
Your mother never really had a job growing up; the both of you relied on money from the man she would be with. This caused your grandparents to yell at your mom when you were little, telling her that she needed to grow up and get a job. Your mom would reply by saying that she never chose this life, and now that she's in it, she could do whatever she pleases. So to be fair, it's not that shocking that she got involved with a rich guy like Miguel.
Sadly, you can say that your concerns were right. You were in your bedroom. After a year of staying at a luxurious house, you are now sitting in your new bed, hearing an argument between your mother and her boyfriend downstairs. The first time you ever heard them argue was at the moment Miguel caught your mom sleeping with other men.
"You're working all the time, so obviously I'm going to get bored here!" your mother yelled at Miguel.
"Oh, so sleeping with other men while I provide for you is totally acceptable, my bad," Miguel argued back.
"Please is not like you would do the same!" Your mom's hands were flying in the air.
He pointed to her with his eyebrows forward and his eyes getting dark. "No, I wouldn't! Unlike you, I have morals."
"Really!? How about that day I caught you doing you know what!" Ah, yes. The day she caught him doing something quite interesting. "Oh whatever, I'm going out. Besides I have a new man who knows how to pleasure me." You could hear the front door slam loudly. Did your mom leave? Did she leave without telling you? Did she leave you alone with her now ex-boyfriend? Is Miguel no longer in your life?
You looked out and saw, with the little opening from your door, Miguel going back and forth from his bedroom back downstairs. You really make out what you can see, but it was clear that he was carrying out suitcases. Most likely your mom's things. Does this mean you have to move out as well? Do you need to start packing? You got up from your bed as Miguel was entering back to his bedroom pinching the bridge of his nose. "Did my mom leave."
He turned around giving you the usual expression he has. "Um....y-yeah she did."
"I'm sorry, I'll leave as soon as possible I'll just pack my things." You were about to enter your room when Miguel stopped you.
"No!" You stopped your tracks and turned to him. "no...I mean. Stay. I don't know where your mom left and I won't like it if you're out there alone. So stay."
You gave him a nod, "O-okay."
It's been five months since your mother left you with her ex-boyfriend. You tried contacting her, but all the calls and text messages were left hanging. You have no clue where she went. Did she actually forget about you? Was she so caught up with her own drama that she forgot about her daughter? Yes, you're an adult, but she left you living with a stranger.
The communication between you and Miguel has been dry. Well, they're always dry. At times during dinner, it would be quiet that no one spoke. Most times, while he's busy at his office, it'll just be you eating alone. You immediately felt guilty that you were using his money, so you quickly got a part-time job so you didn't have to rely on him. You don't really plan to live with him forever, right?
One day after you finished your classes, you decided to go on an apartment hunt. You really felt more comfortable moving out. You have no business living there. Luckily, you're able to find a small, affordable place to live. Not ideal, but you'll take whatever seems fit.
It was close to your college and it was perfect for one person, which is all you need.
When you went back, you couldn't seem to hide the happy smile on your face that you couldn't see Miguel sitting on the couch in the living room." What are you so happy about?" He questioned.
His voice caught you off guard it made you jump a bit. "sorry, I didn't see you there. Um...I found a place to live, so I would be out of your hair soon." You placed your book bag down on the floor.
He got up from the grey leather slate couch and walked towards you. His white dress shirt could barely hide all his muscles, especially with a few buttons undone, revealing more of his tanned chest. "You didn't have to do that, mi amor."
"Well, I can't live here forever and you are going to move on soon so-" You couldn't even finish your sentence.
"When I told you to stay, I meant it." His hand caressed the side of your arm. " Estas tan hermorsa, mi amor. (You're so beautiful, my love)." He grabbed your chin to lift your head up so your eyes could meet his. His touch made you feel some type of way. His serious look made you feel something. You shouldn't feel this. This isn't okay. He shook his head lightly, "How can you afford your own place?"
"I- I got a part-time job and I've been saving up." You took a step back, but only for him to follow you more in. "I just don't see why I have to stay here. My mom is not here and the only reason why I'm here is because of her."
"Let me take care of you." He leans in closer to you. "Let me be with you." His last words were a faint whisper that you couldn't hear it well.
"Miguel, I don't think this is appropriate?" You moved your head to the side, walking away from him. "It's best if I move. I don't think this is right."
"Stay." He says.
"No, I can't." You reply to him with his back turned to you.
He turned to you. "Please stay."
You looked around the house. "It's the best for the both of us if I move out of here. One day, you'll get a girlfriend." Miguel closed his eyes and shook his head."..And..I'll get a boyfriend."
He quickly made his eye gaze to look at you and with a swift speed, he walked up to you. "Boyfriend?" His speed made lose your breath a bit. Your body tense up at how tall his structure is. "Is that why you wanted to move out? You have a boyfriend."
You looked at him confused. Why does he seem bothered by this? you thought. "huh?- No. I mean, not now at least. But I will eventually. Just like how you'll get a new partner."
"No. I won't allow that to happen." He grabbed the side of your arms a bit harshly.
"M-Miguel?" You breathed out.
"You aren't moving out. You aren't leaving here, and you're certainly not going to have a fucking boyfriend." Miguel leaned into your ear saying all of these things to you and you felt completely frozen.
You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him off a bit so you could get out of his strong grip. You walked away from him so far that you felt the big bookcase behind your back. "What's the matter with you! You're my mom's ex-boyfriend. You're older than me. You aren't the boss of me and you are not going to shove me around like the others!" You felt your eyes get glossy. Your eyes opened wide with now hearing everything you had said. You shouldn't treat him like this. He has given you shelter and food. Without him offering you to stay, you'll be homeless right now. "I...I'm sorry...I didn't mean to"
Miguel felt his hands forming a tight fist. "Like the others?"
"No, I don't know what I'm talking about" You palmed your head trying to fix the situation.
He walked closer to you. He didn't break eye contact with you. "Has anyone ever hurt you?" You didn't say anything back which made him frustrated. "Answer me."
You looked up and realized how close he was to you. No matter how far you get away from him, he seems to always find a way to be close to you. "N-no. It's stupid. Just forget what I said. I'll move out and none of this ever happened okay."
"It's not okay! You're. Not. Leaving. Now tell me what you mean by others or I swear I'll do something you won't love." He looked at you with anger in his eyes. He's a very intimidating man. The most intimidating man you ever met. He held your wrist with one of his hands while his eyes were filled with hatred.
You felt your body tremble with his presence." Y-yes. But it wasn't constant. It was just when one of my mom's ex-boyfriends got angry they took it out on me. It's not bad and it's not serious. Please let go of me."
Miguel took a deep breath before letting you go. "I'm not like the others."
"You sure act like them." You said, but instantly regretted it.
"Mi amor, be careful about what you're going to say next. I really, really don't want to hurt you. So please, be a good girl and do whatever I fucking tell you." Miguel lifts his chin up making his statue be more bigger and taller.
"Why can't I leave? Wouldn't it be easier if I left? I won't cause you any more problems if I leave." You plea to him trying to get reason with him.
He walked away from you, throwing his hands around. "Por dios! that's enough about you leaving! I don't want to hear it anymore!" He screamed at you making you feel weak.
"I was wrong about you. I thought that you were good, but I was wrong. You're just like her ex-boyfriends. All of you!Jerks! Now I understand why she did what she did!" You felt your body tremble with how slowly he was walking back to you.
"If you think bringing up that bitch of your mother is going to get me mad then you are wrong. I! Don't! Care! About her! I'm glad that bitch left." He towered over you, "Now, comparing me to those low-life fucking men, you really just want to push my buttons, sweetheart."
"I hate you!" You felt a small speck of tears falling down in the corner of your eyes, feeling it rolling down your cheek.
"Hate me all you want, it won't change the fact that you are staying no matter what. You aren't leaving me." He grabbed both of your wrists pulling you closer to you. He gripped your face, pinching both of your cheeks with his fingertips. "You. Are. MINE!"
He dragged you back to his bedroom. You kept kicking and screaming, but he didn't care, he kept dragging you to his bed. "Please let go of me! I'm sorry!" You begged him to let you go. He opened his bedroom door and pulled you in holding your waist. He threw you on top of the bed. He shut the door and locked it. You quickly pulled yourself together using his pillows as a shield. "Please don't hurt me! Please!" you sobbed.
He grabbed your ankles and pulled you down, sliding you near the edge of the bed. He separated your legs apart and got between them. His eye contact wasn't breaking off with you, following your head movements all around. He grabbed your face again to make you look at him more clearly. "You're gonna behave?" You nodded feeling the hot tears rolling down. "You'll do what I say. You will live here. You will become my wife and you will be mine. End of story."
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The sound of the hot oil and vegetables sizzling filled the entire kitchen. The sound of the front door opening and closing made the chef hurry and place the finished food onto two plates. The chef fixed his white apron and stood by the dining room table with the food ready to be eaten. He saw Miguel waking in wearing his black blazer with his white dress shirt. "Sir, the food is ready."
"Okay, thank you." Miguel took off his blazer letting out a sigh. Work can get complicated for Miguel, so his coming home a little tired was normal. He could hear another pair of footsteps coming closer to him. He looked to his side and saw you standing there.
You stood in front of him with your fingers fiddling with each other. "Hi." You said softly.
He leaned over, giving you a light kiss on the lips. You accepted it. You accepted a lot of things without resisting anymore. He gave a smile and peck on the cheek. "After we eat, I want to take a bath with you."
You nodded as you took your seat on the dining room table. The chef left back to the kitchen to clean up leaving you and Miguel all alone. Not the first time the both of you have been alone, but now it's different. Now you share his bed. Now you give him a kiss on the lips when he leaves for work. Now the both of you shower together and bathe together when he wants to. The first time he wanted to do this, you protested, but it only resulted in him dragging you and stripping you naked.
He hasn't been intimate with you, but you know when that time comes, your cries won't help you.
You've been with him for six months. Six months of you and him sharing a bed together. In total, you've been in the house for two years now. No word from your mother not like you cared anymore. Miguel made you take online college so you don't have to leave the house. As for the part-time job you had, Miguel had to go in and apologize that you can no longer work. Miguel being rich and successful gave him respect for his name so no one questioned him. Miguel brought in his lawyers to deal with your bank account so you can use his instead whenever you feel like it. If you want to buy clothes or shoes online or anything that you like, you can get by using his money. Recently, he's been discussing marriage licenses with his lawyers. He does want you to have a big wedding, but to make it easy, just getting your marriage license and certificate was enough.
Besides, who are you going to invite to a wedding you're being forced to.
"How was work?" You asked.
"Tiring. It would be a whole lot easier if these interns knew what they were doing instead of keeping their hands in their pants. I swear they changed the ways of teaching now. Don't know how they graduated." He swallowed his food, taking a sip of water. "Speaking of which, I talked to the administrator and they will accept you in to finish college there if you want it. Sure, it'll still be online, but you'll get the education you want." Due to your mother relying on her past boyfriends to cover her finances, you didn't exactly have the benefits of choosing your dream college. Miguel insisted for him to get you in. "Although, I don't see why you'll need it. You have me." He has told you that you won't need the degree. Why? Your future husband is filthy rich and intelligent. "How about If I gave two options. Choose to finish college or I'll give two days to go outside every week." It's been six months since you stepped foot outside. You remember the last time you were out in public. It was when you were looking for a place to live. Miguel ended up buying that entire apartment building, flipping it and now owns it. He doesn't really go there or actually work there, he just hired people to run it really. Because of this, people loved him due to his kindness in getting people jobs on top of that he gave people good homes at affordable prices. He's a real hero to the people.
Finish college or go outside two times every week. On the one hand, you want to finish your goal to finish your studies. On the other, you really wanted to go outside and finally breathe some air. what is the catch though? What's the point? If you do finish college, that degree will sit in the closet collecting dust. If you choose to go outside, what else will there be to it? Do you want a little bit of freedom you can get? Or waste your time doing something you're not going to need?
Miguel can see your head thinking of these two options. "If choose to go out, I'll hire two bodyguards to be with you at all times."
What to choose? What to pick?
The water of the bath was warm and it felt relaxing. Your back was resting on Miguel's torso. You could feel his rock-hard abs and chest. Your head rested on one of his pecks. You felt his arms embracing you. You felt the warmth of his body all over you. The last of the bubbles from the body wash went away from your body and his. The sound of water wooshing around filled the bathroom. "I want to go outside." You finally said.
Miguel smiled at you, giving you a kiss on your cheek.
The smile you had never seen before. The smile you thought that never existed on this man was now showing.
You met two bodyguards Miguel hired. They rarely spoke. They hardly made contact with you which wasn't weird. Miguel told them what they had to do while they were in his home office. You waited outside, ready to go out for the first time in six months.
When they finally got out, they took you outside. Miguel kissed you on the lips and told you to have fun.
The two guards were on your side at all times. Even when you were in the bathroom with a bunch of stalls, the female bodyguard went in with you. When any other male figure even turned their heads to you, the male bodyguard gave them a look. The two guards wore sunglasses so you don't even though the color of their eyes.
One thing for sure though, is that they noticed how you didn't buy anything during your trips to the mall or any store. They dressed this to Miguel since they had to report everything you did whenever you would go out.
Eventually, it led to Miguel talking to you. The both of you were in bed getting ready to sleep when you felt his arm wrapping around your torso. "Don't hesitate to buy anything you want. If you want it then get it, mi amor. My money is your money."
If you spend his money it means that you have accepted this fate. You've accepted him and this new life. Are you ready to accept it?
The sun was shining through making everything hot and glow. The beautiful tiles on the floor and little square pots with trees in every other corner and center. People walk by with their shopping bags looking for their store to shop in. The outside mall is probably one of your favorite spots. Look at you, just like your mother. The two guards by your side, walking along with you. The only thing you got was a pretzel. You don't know what you want? Why are you there in the first place?
You offered your pretzal bites to the guards, but they didn't accept it. They're really serious about this then. You ended up seeing a nice jacket on display. It was a jacket perfect for your style. You entered in looking for it. When you finally found it you checked the price and cringed at how expensive it was for you. Do you really need to spend that kind of money on a jacket? Are you even going to wear it?
You let your mind turn off and your body control you. You grabbed the jacket from the rack and made your way to the front counter. The cashier asked you if you found everything okay and you replied yes. When she said the total, you grabbed the card that Miguel gave you and pressed it on the little card reader. When the machine said 'approved' you sighed with how dumb this decision might've been. You walked out of the store and told the guards that you were ready to go home.
Little did you know that one of your mom's friends saw you walking out?
When you got home, Miguel asked you how the trip to the mall was and the guard told them everything that you did. He then asked to see you wear the jacket. You put on the jacket and showed it to him. He got up from his chair and got closer to you. He palmed your cheek and pulled your face to kiss you on the lips. "It looks gorgeous, mi amor. You look gorgeous."
"I might return it." Still not satisfied with the choice you made. Are you ready for this?
"Why?" He questioned.
"I might not even wear it." You said back to him.
"You could wear it to our first date." He said.
He never took you out on an actual date. He's been too busy with trying to get you used to your life. However, since you have been good lately, he felt like it was ready to take you out somewhere special. "Date?"
"Yes. I want to take you. So, tomorrow, I'll come home early, we'll get ready and enjoy ourselves." He kissed your cheek, tracing his lips closer to your ear. "I want our first time to be special."
You had a hard time sleeping. You kept replaying the things he said to you in his office. When you finally shut your eyes, morning already come. Miguel left early for work so you didn't wake up with him by your side. You had your breakfast that the chef prepared. You went back to the bedroom, walking past your old bedroom that you stayed in. Miguel turned it into a regular guest bedroom or an empty bedroom for future 'family members.' You go through your side of the walk-in closet and pick out an outfit (Whatever style outfit fits you). You laid it out on the bed and started to feel a bit nervous.
You never had a man to treat like this. Is it bad? Is it good? He shut you out from the world and forced you to be with him. Should you be grateful? Is Miguel a complete psycho?
You're going to spend a special night with him. Your first time with him. You never thought it would be him. Yes, he's fit and handsome. Yes, he has everything a woman wants. Yes, he's caring and he's caring to you. Are you ready though?
As hours pass you finally got up and took a shower. You get ready, putting on your shoes that match the outfit perfectly. By the time you finished, Miguel already got home and took a shower. You waited in the living room fiddling with your fingers. Picking a bit of skin in your cuticles. If you had a purse, you would clutch onto the straps. Miguel has mentioned that you don't need to carry a purse when you're with him because he has all you need.
When he got out, he was wearing a dark navy blazer with pants that matched, a white dress shirt, and a red tie. His hair was slick back as usual. You stood up. "eres una belleza, mi amor." he said to you.
He took your hand and led you out of the house and into the back of his black SUV. He sat right next to you with his hand on your thigh. On the ride, you hardly spoke. It was just Miguel talking to you about the place you guys are going. You did wonder where he was going to take you.
When you got out of the car, you saw a big helicopter in front of you. The nervousness came back. You never done this before. You clutched to Miguel's arm for comfort. Really, the only comfort you have. "Don't be scared. I'll be right next to you."
He led you inside the helicopter with his help. You put on the headset and strap in the seat belt. Miguel was talking to the helicopter pilot. The pilot is a dear friend of Miguel and is the one to take Miguel wherever he needs. Miguel pointed out the view by your side and told you to look. When you did, you were in awe at how beautiful it was. All the lights blend in. The sunset setting down. It was amazing.
When the stop was made, Miguel helped you out of the helicopter by grabbing your waist and lifting you down. He held your hand as he guided you inside the big fancy restaurant. The restaurant looked like the inside of a Victorian opera house. You won't be surprised if it was one. The hostess said hi to Miguel and took the both of you into a nice room with a nice round table with a white cloth. It was perfectly decorated. All the staff talked to Miguel as if he was a regular here. Again, you won't be surprised if he comes here often. The hostess handed you the menu, even the menu was fancy. The first thing you did notice was the prices. The prices were through the roof. Not even a side salad was affordable. Do the ingredients have magic powers or something? You thought.
"What're you getting?" Miguel asked, placing the many down on the table. The sound of light jazz music played throughout the restaurant and it sounded like it was live.
"I'm getting (Whatever you want)" You looked out trying to take a peek through the red velvet curtains.
"They're playing jazz on the first floor. They bring in jazz players or pianists to play for the people here. Sometimes an orchestra." He said.
You took a sip of your water admiring the architecture of the place that you are in. When the waiter came in, you told him what you wanted, the same with Miguel. Soon, the both of you are eating the most delicious food you have ever tasted in your life.
"Delicious right?" Miguel saw the way you were enjoying it. You nodded in response. "Five years ago, I went here with some business partners to talk about expanding the way science should be taught. When I first tasted the food, I fell in love with it."
"Your past girlfriends must've been happy being here." You said, softly.
"No. I never took any of my ex-girlfriends here. This is a special place for me. I wanted to bring someone who I knew would enjoy it with me forever. That person is you." He went to grab the check that the waiter put down and put his black card inside, handing it back to the waiter.
He took you back out and enjoyed the night and the stars riding the helicopter. He griped on your thigh as you gripped on his biceps. The wind was nice and it wasn't too harsh so it didn't ruin your hair, but the air felt nice on your skin.
Back home, the lights were dimmed. He started to guide back to the bedroom. This is when you felt fear. You forgot about this part. You were enjoying yourself so much that you forgot the other part of the date. He turned your back to him and started to take off your jacket that you just bought. He held your waist sliding his hand up and down.
He then started to shift your clothes off your body until you were left with your undergarments. He turned you around so you can face him. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and began to take off his clothes. He tugged his red tie and threw on one of the armchairs, unbuttoned his dress shirt, unbuckled his belt, and zipped his pants. When he was in his briefs, you felt your heart racing.
He went in and kissed your neck. leaving trails of wet kisses all over your collarbone. You felt his fingers trying to unhook your bra, but you quickly grabbed his arms to stop him. "Wait. I don't think I can do this."
He stopped kissing you and pulled away to look at you. "Why?"
Why? Is he serious? Why? "Because I don't want it." You saw him placing his hand on his forehead and his other hand on his waist. "Because you're my mom's ex-boyfriend."
"Ay, que caramba! Por dios! ya estoy harto que tu siempre mencionas esto!" He yelled at you. "I don't love her! I don't care about her! She never meant anything to me!" He bent over and hovered over you, "When I first met her, I wasn't planning on being with her. I didn't like her. But when she introduced you to me, I realized who was meant for me."
"Me?" Your eyes widened with what he just confessed.
"Yes! you! It was a pain to sleep next to her knowing that you were in the other room. It was a pain when she gave me a kiss on the lips when you were sitting there watching. I felt heartbroken for you. For you to see it." His eyes were lighted, " So, I worked long hours so I could avoid her. Never meant to avoid you. It worked because when I found out that she slept with other men, it was enough for me to kick her out."
"I don't understand?" Why not just kick her out before?
"I have control, I do. But when you are there, I can't help myself." Miguel remembered the day your mother caught him jerking off while moaning your name. It was the first argument they actually had without you there. You were attending your college course classes during all of this, so how would you know this happened. Your mother was angry. More angry at you for catching his attention than her. It made sense since he never showed any actual interest in your mother, especially in bed. She also felt embarrassed as well that he was more interested in you than her. So she told Miguel that she would leave and take you far away from him, but he didn't want that. If he kicked her out then she would take you with her. However, when he caught her in bed with another man it was enough to get back at her. He knew that she was money-hungry for men, that she'd choose them over you. So when she found her new toy, she was already on her way out. "I never slept with her, If that's what you're worried about? I never did. Most nights I slept in the armchair so I wouldn't be in the same bed as her. At times I would sleep on the couch and leave for work early."
"So..this entire time you wanted..." You felt so dumb to not notice all the signs. There were no signs at all.
"You. I wanted you. Now that I have you here. Sleeping in the same bed as me, I'm not going to let you go. EVER! I want to marry you, kiss you, make love to you, have kids with you, grow old with you. I want you. I need you. I'll kill anyone and anything that gets in our way." He went on and kissed you deeply. He moved you more onto the bed.
He yanked your bra off your body. He started to massage your breast with his large hands. He gripped the line of your panties and pulled them down. He ignored you. Ingorned your cries to stop. It was so into his own head, he didn't hear your plea.
He pulled down his briefs, feeling his cock hardened. He spread your legs apart and starts to circle your clit. He inserted his finger inside and started to pump in and out. He felt the inside of your walls. When he did enough to get you wet, he inserted his cock inside you. He nuzzled in your neck, kissing you, and leaving hickeys all over your collarbone and neck. He let his cock rest inside your pussy for a while so you can get used to his size. He knows that he's big, so he wanted to make sure that you take him well. The pain was through as you dug your nails on his back. Maybe you should enjoy it? You should be grateful.
He moved his hips slowly, moving back and forth. Soon the pace began to fasten. The sound of the bed creaking filled the room. The sound of his grunts and moans entered into your ear. "Fuck. Yes..ahh..mhm~" He placed his hand on the sides of your head and thrust inside you harder and faster. "You're gonna make me cum, baby."
His balls were slapping your ass as he lifted your waist off the bed and fucked you in harder than ever. Your thighs were vibrating with how fast he was going. The sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed in the room. When he felt like he was going to ejaculate, he embraced you into him, and you felt your breast against his own muscle pecks. "Ah! Fuck! Take my cum, sweetheart." He felt his semen injecting inside you. He felt your womb being filled up that some of his cum spilled out and ran down his balls. You held on to him tight feeling your body being filled up by him. Your thighs shook with how hard he fucked you. Your tears were now dried up and your sobs turned into slight whimpers. You felt your face heating up. An older man just took your virginity. You felt ashamed, but good at the same time.
"I'm not done with you, mi amor." He huffed as the last drop of cum left his still-rocked hard cock. He sat down on the bed and pulled you on top of him. You sat between his legs as he spread your legs apart once more. His fingers went down and started to play with your clit. You covered your mouth to stop you from moaning, but it angered Miguel. "Don't! I wanna hear you, querida"
"M-Miguel...Ahh~ mmm..." You felt his fingers flicking your clit and rubbing it slowly. You wanted him to go faster. His other hand went and groped your breast, he pinched your nipple while rubbing your throbbing clit. "It...Ahhh! it feels good, Miguel! Ahhh~....mmm~...faster please."
"Want me to go faster?" the tip of his finger was gently circling your clit that was begging for him to get abused.
"Yes! Mmmm~....Yes! Please!" Your head was thrown back at the feeling of his touch.
"Yes what, mi amor?" He pinched your clit and moved it side to side, slowly.
"Yes!...oh god!...Mhmmm~...ngh..faster!...." You felt your lips opening your pussy with the amount of pleasure you are feeling. The wetness filled all over your area. You felt wetness and some of his cum leaking out to the bed. Miguel's thought of you squirting all over the bed turned him on even more. The bed filled with your juices made him more horny than ever. You felt his rock-hard cock on your back. It didn't help that with his movements he was making towards your clit was making you squirm your back, rubbing his cock in the process. "Please.. go faster...Ahh!...Ngh...yes Daddy~."
With that, he rubbed your clit at a fast speed. "Like this, mi amor."
Your pussy was getting wet and wet with each orgasm you were having. "Yes..Ahh!..ooh!..mmm~!"
Sweat was dripping down your face and body. "This pussy is so good. I'm gonna fucking abuse this pussy. Yes, baby. Yeah~." He slapped your clit a couple times which caused a few leaks to spray out.
"Yes! Yes!~" Your eyes were closed shut. Your breath was losing control.
"Who's this pussy belong to." He slapped your clit one more time. "Is this daddy's pussy baby..yeah. Fuck! Your so fucking wet." He slapped your entire pussy feeling the wetness on his hand. He rubbed your clit even more but would stop just to see it twitch. "This clit is so juicy. This belongs to me. Look at it throb. Fuck! You're driving me insane amor!"
Soon you felt like you were going to explode. You didn't care about the mess, you wanted the pleasure to continue. You arched your back and felt your pussy squirting all over the bed sheets. A pool of your juices formed under your ass cheeks.
It didn't stop. It never stopped. He inserted his fingers inside you again and played with your walls. He wasn't pumping in and out, he was rubbing your walls on the inside. He opened your pussy even more and you felt another gush of your juices squirting out again. The bed sheets were drenched with all your juices. "It's like a waterfall." He continued to rub your red clit more. He would lick his fingers and go on to flick your clit.
"Oh god! Ahh! Ahh!~" You felt his entire palm rubbing it.
"I want to taste you." He grabbed your clit and abused it even more making you squirt all over.
He picked you up and placed you on the armchair. He kneeled down and spread your legs. He saw a good view of your pussy he began to dive in. He licked you all over. "Fuck! It's so good! Don't stop! Don't stop...oh~" you screamed out. You gripped his head and felt his tongue flicking more of your clit. He felt a small spray of your juices landing on his face. He can't get enough. He wanted to drown in it. "Yes! Fuck me! Daddy! Fuck me! This pussy is yours!" Another gush of squirt left your body. Miguel went in and drank as much of it as he could.
He told you to kneel on the floor and you did. He sat down on the armchair and told you to open your mouth. When you did, he shoved his cock inside your mouth.
You looked at him and felt the warmth of his cock down your throat. He bobbed your head up and down moaning. "Fuck!...you like sucking my cock baby...shit!...mmm~...oh fuck." It didn't take too long for him to cum inside your mouth. He pulled out and let the rest of his cum spray all over your face. "Ahh~...shit....look at you...covered with my semen...Open your mouth, mi amor." You did. You showed him the cum inside your mouth. "Swallow it~"
He wanted to cover you with more of his cum so he started to jerk off. "Touch yourself. I want you to touch yourself, mi amor."
You sat on the floor and spread your legs to show him your full view of your sensitive spot. You never touched yourself before. You picked on your clit and felt it warm and wet. You went all out and fingered your clit with your hand while the other was keeping you up. You closed your eyes and rested your head back. "Look at me. I want to see you." Miguel said, feeling his balls bouncing up and down. You looked at him, biting your lip, feeling tears going down with how good the pleasure was. Your legs couldn't stop shaking with how much you're stimulated. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you felt more squirt coming out of you. You came too early that you wanted to insert a finger inside you. So you ignored that cum and shoved a finger inside. You never felt the inside of your walls. The fact that Miguel was watching it was making you act crazy. "Good girl. Fuck...you're such a good girl.." He huffed and swallowed the little bit of saliva in his mouth. He felt cum about to come out, but he stopped himself making him edge.
You played with your pussy, digging inside and rubbing your walls until you found your g-spot. Your legs tremble as your fingers got covered with more of your own cum. A pool formed on the floor filled with pussy juice.
Miguel moaned out as cum sprayed out of his penis and covered your face.
You don't know how long the two of you were at. He came inside you three more times and made you squirt so many times, you felt your legs going numb.
You don't remember the rest of the night. When you woke up, you felt fresh new bedsheets over you. Your skin felt clean and smooth. When you tried to get out of bed, your legs felt so sore that you couldn't budge.
You heard the bedroom door open and saw Miguel in nothing but sweatpants. "Good morning, mi amor" He was carrying a tray of food and brought it to your side.
"What time is it?" You asked.
"It's already noon. I woke up thirty minutes ago." He placed the tray on your lap.
"You didn't go to work?" You took a sip of the water, feeling your body getting hydrated.
"Why would I go to work after the night we both had." He smiled remembering all of the things you both had done. "Last night..was the best night I ever had. I love you."
He loves you. "I don't..I don't remember what else happened..how-"
He let out a small chuckle, "it's alright, cariño. I changed the bedsheets and gave the both of us a bath. When I put you back on the bed, you immediately knocked out. You were so tired mi vida. Next time I'll go gentle on you, I'm sorry."
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It's been a few days since that night. Everything went back to how it was. Miguel was more physical with you. The two guards were still there when you wanted to go out.
Eventually, Miguel told you that he wanted to take you where he works that way you could have a feel for what he does. He never brought it anyone personal, or anyone at all. So when people saw him bringing you, they were shocked. He showed you all of the building and what exactly each person does. For someone who works at a very large building with many, many people, he has a good memory of the names of his employees.
Miguel had to excuse himself to you when he was called into an important meeting. You went and saw a vending machine outside the cafeteria and decided to get yourself a little snack. You were about to put in some quarters from your pocket when you heard another male voice behind you. You turned around and a guy wearing a lab coat and his name tag on the little pocket of the coat. "Sorry." You moved to the side, but he followed along. You looked to your sides and saw no one around.
"What a pretty girl like you doing here?" The guy said.
"Um..my boyfriend brought me here." You said.
"Boyfriend? Always the pretty ones get taken. So who's the lucky guy? Or are you just lying?" You excused yourself and started to walk away.
He ran up to you, "So what's your name?" He said.
"Why?" You questioned.
"Can't I know the pretty girl's name?" He said in almost an offended tone.
"I have to go." You walked a bit faster, but you could hear his footsteps getting closer to you. You didn't want to cause any trouble, especially at Miguel's work.
You also certainly didn't want to make Miguel mad. Everything was going good, you didn't want to anger him.
Your prayers have been heard because the two guards came and told the guy to basically fuck off. You never thought you would be happy to see your two guards. "Please don't tell Miguel about this. I don't want him to worry. I don't want to cause trouble. Please."
They didn't reply, which was the usual for them to do, but you hoped that they'd listen.
When Miguel finished his meeting, he met up with you and the two of you went back home together.
You thought that the two guards kept the secret because Miguel never mentioned it. He didn't really need to. That guy won't bother you ever again.
While the both of you were enjoying dinner, the doorbell rang. You looked at Miguel who looked back at you confused.
Who's here at this time?
Miguel went to answer it and saw someone he never thought he'd see. "What are you doing here?"
The woman rolled her eyes and made her way inside the home. "You'd think I'll just leave? Just like that?" She snapped her fingers.
You made your way to the front door and saw her. Your mother.
You can tell she changed her looks..again. Your mother looked at you and gave you a disgusted look. "So it is true. You're with her!"
"What are you talking about?" Miguel asked.
"A little birdy told me that she was out shopping at an expensive store." She crossed her arms. "I know she doesn't have money and knowing you and that weird fantasy you had, made me think? Has he really gone all out and started a relationship with my daughter?"
"I'm not your daughter." You said with hatred in your eyes. You had enough of her behavior. Of her stupidity. Of her immaturity.
"Whores don't get to talk!" She screamed at you.
"Don't call her that! The only whore here is you!" Miguel screamed back at her. You went behind Miguel, holding his arm.
"Please! Because of her you lost interest in me! Because of her! Our relationship ended." She yelled.
"Mi amor, go to the room. I'll handle this okay." Miguel told you. You didn't want to but also didn't want to disobey him. You nodded and went to your guy's shared bedroom. You shut the door and climbed on top of the bed.
Miguel stormed up to her with his face fuming with anger. " There was no relationship, you fucking bitch. Me and you never existed. I was only using you to get close to (Y/N). The only one I care about is her. The only one I love is her. You are nothing to me." He saw her hand raising up and swinging forward towards the side of his face, but he saw right through. He caught her hand mid-air, "Don't you fucking dare."
She yanked away from his grip. "I'll tell people about you and her. I'll tell people how you are forcing a young 20-year-old to be in a relationship with you. I wonder how the people are gonna say that a guy in his late 30s is with a young girl without her consent?" She smeared a smirk on her face. "After all, I'm her mother, so people are most likely gonna say 'oh, poor her. She's looking after her daughter from a disgusting man. I Can't believe someone like Miguel O'Hara would do that.' What do you think?"
"I'll make sure to make your life a living fucking hell, you disgusting piece of shit!" His tone was deep and dark and your mom thought she was speaking with the devil.
"Me? Disgusting? At least I didn't masturbate at the thought of a young girl. So let's weigh our options." She looked around at the big fancy house that she used to call home. "You go back to provide for me and I'll let you and that thing I call a daughter to continue dating or whatever the relationship is. Or! I'll tell people about this and ruin your reputation. I mean who would the people believe. Two poor women crying for help or a rich man who got exposed for being a perverted old man."
"So that's what this is all about. Money. What? Did your boyfriend finally realize what a whore you are and left your ass!?" He exclaimed. "You can tell people whatever you want. (Y/N) will never take your side. You heard her! You are not her mother. All the things you had done to her, you really think she will defend on your honor. The only thing she'll do is expose your ass on how much of a terrible mother you are. Uh? Let's see. let's weigh our options." He said mimicking her. " You get the fuck out of my house and never show your face here again. Or we'll expose how you neglected your own daughter for your own benefits and you let other men emotionally abuse her and how you left her alone here with me. I'll tell me people that I gave her a place to live because her own mother was too selfish that she didn't care she was going to make her own daughter homeless."
"She'll listen to me. She'll do what I say. She always does. Deep down, she wants what's best for her mother. What? You think that wasn't the only time she had said that. Please, she throws those tantrums all the time, and in the end, she will always be by my side." She tilted her head," So." She looked at him from top to bottom. "I'll take a check every two weeks. Maybe around 5,000 dollars. Obviously, I'll ask for more later on. That's all I'm asking. Or else, I'll take her away from you."
She turned around with a smile on her face. "Tell (Y/N) I said goodbye."
Miguel couldn't even hear what had been said. Everything was turned into an echo. The fact that she can take you away. Everything Miguel wanted was going to be taken away from him. He felt his blood boil with anger. He felt the hatred increase towards her and he didn't hesitate to grab a mimick mini statue of David sitting on one of the tables. With one swing, he smacked the statue on her head. It caused her to fall down on the floor. Miguel looked at the statue and saw blood on the corner from the base. He looked over on the floor and saw her lifeless body. A pool of blood formed around her corpse. Miguel tapped her with his foot to see if she was still alive, but there was no movement. He didn't freak out. He didn't panic. He smiled. He smiled that she was finally gone.
You waited for Miguel to come in and tell you what had happened. What did she want?
It felt like ages waiting for him.
At last, he finally entered the room. He looked a bit rough. His shirt was half unbuttoned and dirt spots showed on his white shirt. "What happened? What did she want? Why are you dirty?" You questioned. You had so many questions.
"She just wanted some money, I gave her a few hundred dollar bills and told her to never come here again. She was a bit angry but accepted the fact that she couldn't do anything." He explained, taking off his shoes.
"What happened to your shirt and pants?" You pointed it out.
"Well, she stormed off and crushed a couple of the roses out front. I went out and replaced them. That's why I took too long." He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off.
"She's not coming back?" You asked.
"No. I told her that if she showed her face here again, I'd call the police. I guess that got her scared. It's most likely she's leaving the country or something. She told me she found a new man, so we won't be seeing her." He looked at you and saw how you were tearing up. "Mi Amor? Que tienes?" He got on the bed and crawled to you. He wiped away a tear falling down from the corner of your eye with his thumb. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's stupid." You couldn't help but let a low sob escape your lips.
"It's not stupid if you're crying. Tell me. I can help you." He said in a concerned tone.
"It's...it's just that...she's my mom. She's my mom and she never cared about me. She never did. Why didn't she love me? What did I do wrong?" You cried to him.
Miguel went over and pulled you into a hug. You sobbed on his chest. He caressed your hair and arms. "Ya mi vida. Forget about her okay. She doesn't deserve your tears. Hey, it's her loss okay. She was never grateful to have a beautiful and kind daughter like you. Any other mother would be happy to have you as a daughter."
"Really?" You looked at him with your glossy eyes.
"Of course, mi vida." He wiped the last tears on your face. "I'm grateful to have you in my arms. You might've not received love from her, but I'll give you all the love and care you deserve. I'll never leave you. I'll love you till the day we die."
You spent the night sleeping in his arms.
Miguel couldn't help but smile at the sight he was seeing. You are finally his. His and forever.
It might've taken a while and a few hardships, but his goal was finally accomplished.
He saved you from a heartache.
He is a hero we all deserve and need.
(That's all. Not sure if I want to continue this story, soooo maybe oneshot?)
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lunarw0rks · 7 months
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I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??
♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader
─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹
there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.
you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.
and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.
you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.
everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.
he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.
no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!
˖⁺。˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.
what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.
the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.
you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.
you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.
though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.
"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.
as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.
a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.
it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.
he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"
"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.
with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.
it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."
somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.
the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.
"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.
once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.
soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.
despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.
as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.
a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.
"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.
he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.
your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.
"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.
then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"
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justporo · 6 months
Text
Brewing Storms
A storm is brewing - oh yes, a literal one too. Tav's scared to be alone during a thunderstorm. Astarion is reluctant but stays to provide some comfort - and realises it might have been one of the better things to happen to him.
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Author's Note: I started this a while ago and then stuff got in the way - like Gale for example (lol) - and now I'm happy to be back to write something soft for Astarion and Tav!
Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: Talk of trauma, very light smut Wordcount: 2,4k
~~~
Astarion and you had fallen into a sort of weird routine with your little late night escapades. Since the party after you saved the Grove and the first night you’ve spent together you had come together time and time again.
First only every couple of days. Always meeting somewhere away from camp and then sneaking back sometime before the others woke up. Although you were surely fair they all knew already anyway. But now you were almost spending every night together. Fortunately for the two of you, being elven meant you were still getting enough rest despite the nightly adventures.
Astarion kept feeding you his cheesy lines – you ate them right up. No one had ever given you this kind of attention. And as much as you knew that it was an act: how could you resist? You had never experienced such flattery nor could anyone you’d shared intimacy with ever compare to Astarion. But that wasn’t even the main thing.
You’d had crushes before, you’d fallen in love before but you were pretty sure it had never been quite like this. Your whole chest sometimes ached when you looked at Astarion. Sometimes when you caught him in a rare moment when he let his perfected mask drop for a second you saw the bottomless sadness and worry in his eyes. And all you wished for was to erase whatever it was that caused that sadness – to keep him safe and always give him something to smile about.
You had quite positively fallen for the vampiric elf. What had been a crush at first had very quickly become an unyielding need in your heart: desperate to be near him, to hear his voice, talk to him, to laugh at his sassy comments, to lay in his arms and to hold him in turn. Out of everything you surely hadn’t wanted or planned to fall in love with everything else going on – but there you were.
You were a hopeless case – even though you were sure it would come back to bite you (and maybe even literally): be it that he lost interest in you way quicker than you would like or that he had ulterior motives and that you were merely a means to an end.
In fact, you were entirely sure that there was more to Astarion. You weren’t all fooled and blinded by your brewing emotions for the vampire. Maybe not really the first time, but as you got more used to sharing a bed with Astarion you were well aware that it seemed like he wasn’t fully there with you.
You could take only guesses at why that was exactly – and you didn’t like any of those.
At several occasions you had tried to bring it up. But he had swatted your concerns away every time, just making a sultry joke or drowning you with kisses until you had forgotten what you had wanted to say. In any case he always pushed you to get back into his arms.
Gladly, you would have offered him an open ear – your heart was already wide open.
But you were sure this wouldn’t last. You were in way over your head and you so desperately wanted to avoid breaking the spell.
And as much as you would have wished for him to open up more, to let you in a bit more and as much as you would have liked to confess the way you felt: you didn’t think you could do it without ruining whatever it was between the two of you.
At least, he seemed to be a bit more present when he was with you of late. The changes seemed subtle enough, but you were convinced that it slowly became different. Maybe it was just that the two of you had gotten used to this dance now, but you could swear his hands lingered longer now on your skin, that his kisses became deeper and more tender, that the way he looked at you became softer sometimes. And that those moments, when he seemed miles away, became fewer.
Tonight, when you had set up camp it had seemed like a storm was brewing.
You had already felt tense when you had noticed: growing up on the streets of Baldur’s Gate as a child with nowhere safe to go had traumatised you for life. Especially when it came to storms: too many nights you’d had to spend outside somewhere while the rain kept pouring down.
But worst had always been the thunder. Every single one like an explosion while a little child sat somewhere cowered trying to stay safe and crying from fear and loneliness. Even when you had gotten older and had always managed to secure a safe spot for sleeping and shelter the fear of thunderstorms had remained.
And thus far you’d gotten lucky that there had been no storms since this whole chaos had started. But the stroke of luck was over now it seemed.
When Astarion had thrown you certain looks after the party had gone to unwind each on their own after eating, you had very rambly and awkwardly suggested to maybe spend the night in your tent this night, because the others surely knew anyway and what if it started pouring and wasn’t it more comfortable anyway?
You just were desperate to not be somewhere outside when the thunderstorm was going to hit – and maybe even not alone.
And Astarion had looked at you suspiciously with a raised eyebrow, surely noticing that something was up. But in the end, he had simply shrugged and followed you to your tent.
So now you lay pressed against each other. Astarion on top of you, his body delightfully weighing you down, both of your shirts already off and his hands kept roaming your body as you gratefully gave in to his open-mouthed kisses. His hand had just dipped below the waistline of your trousers when you could hear the first far away rumbling.
Immediately you tensed a little but forced yourself to try and not be bothered by it. Astarion’s kisses wandered down your throat now.
A second already much louder rumble. You gasped.
And apparently Astarion had noticed that it wasn’t because of his touch – you could almost feel how he had furrowed his brows. But he kept silent and continued to kiss and caress you, leaning on one of his forearms.
When a third roar of thunder made you actually wince and recoil, he pushed up on his arm and looked at you. The other hand though stayed right where it was inside your pants.
“Afraid of a little thunder, love?”, he said and cocked an eyebrow. His tone wasn’t even overly sassy but you still couldn’t help but to feel hurt.
More thunder. This time so loud it felt like it was exactly above you. You recoiled again and felt how panic rose in you. You pushed the vampire - who actually looked hurt by that - off of you. His hand slipping from where it had caressed you.
“Maybe I am afraid of thunder. So?”, you spat back while you sat up and hugged your knees to your naked chest. As much as you wanted the comfort of his arms: panic and whatever feeling it had been that had overcome you when Astarion had looked hurt when you’d pushed him back got the better of you.
Shame mixed with the fear and you could feel your throat close up.
Astarion had knelt back on the balls of his feet watching you with a look in his eyes you couldn’t quite place. He definitely didn’t seem as cocky as a few moments ago though.
You looked away as another thing spiced up the mix of emotions running high: worry, that you had just broke something that couldn’t be repaired.
“I-“, Astarion started and then stopped helplessly.
The vampire was actually worried about you in this moment. Astarion was surprised by the sudden outburst of emotion and he was certainly hurt that you pushed him away. But more than anything: he didn’t know what to do now. Quite obviously you were not in the mood anymore for getting down and dirty.
It occurred to him that he did not want you to be afraid and upset. But then again, he had no idea how to make it so. And on top of that: he was pretty sure you weren’t interested in anything of the sort. Sure, you were absolutely the one person he talked the most to in the party. And yes, you were always making sure he’d gotten enough blood – but that was probably because you had need of him being his fittest for fighting. Also, you did actually seem to care about what had happened to him, wanting to learn more about him – but…
The vampire was confused and helpless. So he opted for the one option he deemed reasonable: leave.
He grabbed his shirt and started pulling it over his head while saying: “Alright, since it seems there won’t be any naughty indulgence tonight, I guess I better get back to my tent and you can try and-“
He was interrupted by you grabbing his wrist firmly.
“Please”, you pleaded, “don’t leave me alone.”
You were desperate: you didn’t want him to leave, you didn’t want to have ruined the delicate thing that had been forming between you.
Astarion let his shirt drop again and looked at you. Your eyes were filled with tears and full of fear. His confusion became even more: “Darling, I’m not… Maybe you should ask the druid to… help you. Maybe he has something herbal to-“ You basically yanked on the vampire’s arm.
“No please, Astarion, I just… want you to stay here with me. Just… hold me? Please?”, you pleaded with him as tears started to stream down your face.
You really didn’t want to be alone for one but also you were desperate to feel his arms around you again – to be sure he would still want to hold you, as much as wanting his comfort.
Astarion’s brows furrowed again but he dropped his shirt again and crawled over to you as you shyly opened up your arms to him to be cradled by the vampire. He slid his arms around you and softly moved you until you were laying there: him on his back with you carefully snuggled up against his chest – skin on skin.
The relief you felt was almost instant. Not only because he had agreed to stay but also feeling his body against yours immediately made some of the tension inside you ease.
Astarion reluctantly started to stroke your back as you buried your face against his chest. It all felt more than just a little awkward and you felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, but you just wrapped your arms around the vampire and tried to calm yourself.
Still tears kept coming and thunder was rolling in quicker now. Then the rain started as well and became a constant drumroll on your tent. The loud rumbles kept going and made you wince from time to time, but it was now considerably better than before.
Astarion grew more confident with just stroking your back. He even carefully placed a kiss on the top of your head at one point, in your all messed up hair. You both eased into this rather unfamiliar form of closeness.
After being stressed about the coming storm all evening, you felt that your body couldn’t retain the tension anymore. You weren’t entirely sure what all this meant for Astarion and you, but you forced yourself to just stay in this moment. Because this already was something you wouldn’t have thought to ever be possible. It was tender and sweet. Something you would have never imagined when this vampire had, upon first meeting him, thrown you on the ground and threatened you with a knife.
You were so desperate to hold onto this. So, you wrapped your arms around him a little tighter and cautiously tangled your legs with his. He let it happen.
And Astarion – Astarion’s mind was racing, utterly confused by the turn the night had taken. It definitely wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy this outcome – to his own surprise. Quite the opposite actually.
When the thunder subsided and the rain tap-tap-tapping on the tent ceiling was what remained of the storm and he felt you quite noticeably relax into his arms even more – his chest started to ache.
He was overthrown by his own sentiment and the trust you put into him; surprised, scared even.
In his thoughts Astarion kept turning around the fact how you had specifically asked him to stay with you although you had so visibly been upset. More upset even than he had ever seen you in any battle. And that you had wanted nothing but to be held in his arms. And he – to his own surprise – had been happy to be there for you, proud even, realising that he really wanted you to be alright.
You hadn’t even talked since he had taken you in his arms. Just felt the connection, your skin warm on his. His hands hesitatingly caressing and trying to comfort you while your tears subsided and your breathing became more even.
And even though it had been you who had pleaded for comfort – Astarion could feel it too. Felt, how the warmth of your body soaked into his undead body and your breath brushed over his naked upper body – now in a steady and calm rhythm again. You were so close, he could even feel the beat of your steadying heartbeat through your conjoined chests.
And when Astarion was sure that you must’ve drifted off into your dreams – because he had held you – he kept staring up at the ceiling of the tent.
The rain had become almost non-existent after what must’ve been hours now.
The vampire’s chest still ached with something he wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge yet. But he could feel that it had become something way too big to ignore. Something that would soon be unleashed – for better or for worse. And he was frightened about that.
But not in this moment. This moment he would hold onto. So he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter still, closed his eyes and full on buried his face in your hair while he was so fully aware of the feeling of your body against his.
Then he whispered so silently, even the last of the raindrops would have drowned out the words. So silently, because he was still so unsure, so scared and the words were only meant for him – and maybe sometime for you: “My love, what ever have you done to me?”
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ghostboneswrites2 · 1 month
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Virgin
Summary: Reader is a virgin. Daryl might as well be.
Alexandria // pre-Negan era ; established but unlabeled relationship
Super mild corruption kink vibes (if you squint) on both sides. Reader is a nervous wreck, Daryl is kinda clueless but charming, skilled, and smooth as ever.
This is long and I'm not sorry about it.
18+ MDNI || Warnings: slight age gap, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p-in-v, generally embarrassingly graphic and descriptive smut, drinking (not drunk sex), loss of virginity, profanity
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        Your hands shook as you filled two glasses with whiskey. Daryl would be over any minute. You had this date planned all week. Daryl was typically pretty busy with his bike or recruiting with Aaron, but he always made time for you when he could. Neither of you ever put a label to it -- boyfriend, girlfriend, partners, lovers -- it was all the same and those words never uttered from either of your lips. It just was what it was, and it made you both happy, whatever that meant. You did, however, often wonder what you really were to him. You liked to think he'd always choose you, but how could you know? You never would, not until it came down to an issue where you were a choice over something else. 
        You replayed your conversation with Rosita in your head all day, pacing nervously in your shared home with Rosita and Tara as you tried to rationalize how you would move forward with this newfound information.
        "So, spill! How is it with Daryl?" Rosita asked curiously, drawing out Daryl's name with a sultry, mocking tone.
        "Oh, things are good! He's coming over tonight, actually." You smiled softly to yourself.
        "No, dummy!" She giggled, slapping your arm playfully. "I mean in bed! Is he rough? Tender? Does he have any weird fetishes? Is he a boob guy or an ass guy? I peg him for an ass guy but I could be wrong."
        "Uh -- What?" You were stunned? In bed? You really never thought about that.
        "Come on, don't be greedy! Share the details!" Rosita practically begged.
        "Details.. Right. Well, there aren't any, really." You said slowly.
        "What?" She gasped. "Don't tell me he's the vanilla missionary type."
        "Vanilla what? No, I just mean we haven't really.."
        "You haven't had sex?!" She gawked at you. "(Y/N), stop right now."
        "Is that a bad thing?"
        "Men have needs, (Y/N). And so do we! It's the end of the world!" She shook your shoulders. "You gotta get your rocks off!"
        Rocks off? What did that even mean? You weren't really that much younger than him. You were twenty when the dead began to roam the earth. But, you were a virgin then, and you were still one now. You never liked anyone enough to get so vulnerable with them. You heard the rumors at school when girls would give it up 'too easily,' or when the guys at your jobs would be snickering about a girl they slept with. What her boobs were like, how she sounded, all the flaws they found with her body. You just thought it would be so foolish to put yourself out there like that, to be one of those girls they were talking about. How could you ever trust someone enough to see and feel every part of you after all of that?
        It wasn't that you didn't get turned on. You did, as much as anyone else. You  just took care of yourself. Plus, it wasn't like the apocalypse provided many opportunities for your first time.. Or did it? Had you been missing signals? Passing by your chances to get naked with someone? Did he even want that? How would you approach it?
        A knock at the door yanked you out of your thoughts. Oh god, was he there already? Was it time to get your rocks off?
        "Hey!" You grinned anxiously at Daryl as you swung the door open. He noticed your nerves right away. He raised an eyebrow.
        "Hey." He greeted. "Y'alright?"
        "Huh? Oh! Yeah." You waved him off. 
        "Well, uh, can I come in?" He asked. You realized you were standing there, blocking his entry, which you never did. You always threw the door open and walked away, allowing him to enter on his own accord and make himself comfortable. You internally facepalmed. 
        "Oh, duh." You chuckled as you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "I poured us some drinks."
        "Cool." He nodded, stepping over to the table where two equally filled glasses stood waiting. He grabbed one and took a sip.
        You glanced him over. Clean clothes, no sweaty smell; he bathed for you. His eyes scanned you just as quick. He was a little surprised at your dress. It wasn't extravagant, just a floral sundress that fit you in all the right places,but you never wore dresses unless Rosita and Tara forced you for an event. You were more of a jeans and a tee kind of gal.
        "Pretty dress." He complimented.
        "Thanks." You blushed, smoothing your hands over it.
        "Rosita make ya wear that for me?" He wondered as he took another sip.
        "Oh! No. I just-- Uh.." You stuttered. God, why were you so nervous? He had to know something was up. You never struggled to talk to him. He was you dearest companion.
        "Just wanted to look pretty for me." He concluded with a smirk. Your face felt like it was melting right off the bone.
        You chuckled nervously and grabbed your own glass, taking a gulp, hoping to calm your nerves.
        "Sure you're alright?" He asked again.
        "Mm-hm!" You hummed with an eager nod. "I'm fine!"
        He shook his head and swirled the liquid around in his glass. 
        "You, uh.. Find us a movie for tonight?" 
        "A movie..? Oh! Right! Yes." You hurried over to the coffee table where a copy of School of Rock sat idly. "Do you like Jack Black?"
        "Mm-mm." He shrugged. "Think I've seen his stuff before."
        "Oh! He's funny. My brother used to watch all of his movies. Did you know he had a band?" You rambled.
        "Nah." He shook his head. "Didn't know."
        "It started with a T I think. I can't remember what they were called." You went on as you bent over to set the disc in the tray and get the movie ready. When you turned around you nearly dropped your glass. He was standing right behind you. "Oh.." You breathed. "You scared me."
        She studied your every feature, trying to figure you out. You were never a mystery to him. He liked that. You never seemed to be keeping anything from him, never had an ulterior motive. You were always a raw person. He never had to try and decipher you like he felt he had to with most girls he liked in the past.
        "Why you actin' weird?" He asked in a low husk.
        "Weird?" You squeaked. "I'm not--"
        "Ya are." He argued. "Real weird. And you never wear dresses."
        "I do wear dresses sometimes--"
        "Only when someone makes ya.You don't ever gotta dress up for me. Ya know that." 
        "W-- I know, I just.."
        "Then why?" He catechized you mercilessly. Your knees felt weak under the weight of this burden of nerves and unsureness.
        "I just..." You were at a loss. How could you play this off? You decided to try your best with whatever your brain could muster for an excuse. You straightened up and crossed your arms. "I just thought it'd be nice to look good for you, Daryl Dixon. Is that a problem?"
        He smirked a little, finding amusement in your sad excuse for confidence. He shook his head. "Nah, no problem at all."
        "Good. Now, excuse me so I can get out movie started."
----
        About a half hour into the movie and you were still imploding. Was it time to make the move? How could you do that when you couldn't even bare to look at him? Hell, you two had never even kissed. You just... Watched movies, sat close enough to be touching, snuck off on forest strolls, you know, normal things. Or was that not normal? Were you supposed to have initiated something more by now?
        He had been sneaking little glances at you the whole time, registering your faint expressions of worry. What was on your mind that had you so riled up? Had he done something? He doubted it. So what was it?
        His arm that was outstretched on the back of the couch behind you twitched a little. He moved to play with your hair but you stood up abruptly. "I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back." 
        You sped off to the upstairs bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your internal battles were written all over your face. He had to know something was up. Actually, you knew he did, because he asked you what was wrong like three times before the movie began. Shit, what now?
        You took a breath and splashed some cold water over your face in efforts to ground yourself, patting it dry with a hand towel. Okay, (Y/N). It's time. Get over your fears and just make the move. As soon as you figure out what the move is, anyways.
        Maybe you could just kiss him and he'd initiate the rest. That's how it works in the movies sometimes, right? Right. Exactly. You got this. Just go down there, and kiss him. No questions asked.
        So, you marched down the stairs, strode to the couch, and froze, staring down at him with wide eyes as he sat there with a questioning gaze. Shit, what were you doing again?
        "Everything alright?" He finally broke the silence that was somehow louder than the audio from the movie.
        "What?" You asked, stunned, forgetting you had just stomped all the way down stairs and right over to him and then froze, blocking his view of the movie. "Oh, uh--"
        He stood up just then, piercing blue eyes beaming into you.
        "Y'gon' tell me what the hell's got your panties all in a wad or what?" He asked impatiently. "You're freakin' me out."
        "I am?" You mumbled. "I just.."
        Oh, screw it. You're backed into a corner, now. You only have one option. As quick as you could, you tippy-toed up and pecked him on the lips. You face turned red immediately. A small, amused smile crept up at the corners of his lips.
        "All that just to kiss me?" He chuckled. "Didn't have to dress up for that."
        "What? Uh -- Oh. Well, I.." You stumbled and tripped over your thoughts. It wasn't just to kiss him, and his reaction was not what you anticipated. Where was the movie moment? The fireworks and explosions? Wasn't he supposed to grab you by the cheeks and kiss you passionately and carry you to bed? What the hell?
        "Ya what? Were ya that nervous? Thought I'd bite or somethin'?" He joked.
        Bite? Is that a sex thing?
        It was all too much. You were in way over your head. You had no idea how this was supposed to work. You felt nauseous, your face was numb, and suddenly you felt it rising from your gut to your throat. Was it vomit? Yes, but not the material kind.
`        "Rosita said we should have sex!"You blurted, eyes wide like saucers as you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep anything else from escaping.
        Word vomit.
        Daryl was stunned completely. It took him a minute to process what you had said. He blinked.
        "Rosita said what?" He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't listen to that. Don't gotta do that  just 'cause she said. We can do that when ya want to, not when someone tells ya."
        He turned around and took his empty glass back to the kitchen, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. It was admittedly adorable that the thought of going to bed with him would mess you up so bad all night. 
        You were still frozen solid with your hand over your mouth as he grabbed the bottle of whisky. You dropped your hand to your side and looked around for your glass. You picked it up off the coffee table and gulped down the last half of it. Just as he was starting to pour is second serving, you spoke up.
        "I do want to."
        He paused, peering up at you through his eyelashes without actually moving his head up to show you his face. He set the bottle down and thought for a moment.
        "Uh, sex -- I mean." You clarified. Again, he tried not to laugh. There was no need for clarification. His deductive reasoning was very much adequate to handle such a statement.
        He shook his head and poured his glass before he walked back over to you.
        "Do ya now?" He asked quietly, eyeing you intensely as he took a swig. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Why did you feel so dry all of a sudden? He seemed to read your mind as he offered you a sip from his glass, which you gladly took.
        "I do." You said unsteadily, failing to feign confidence.
        "Ya sure?"
        "Why wouldn't I be?" You raised a brow, crossing your arms. He took the glass out of your hand and set it on the coffee table.
        "Ya been drinkin'."
        "I'm not drunk."
        "But it wasn't your idea to begin with." He pointed out. "Le'me ask ya.. If Rosita never said nothin', would ya even be considerin' this right now?"
        You didn't respond. He had a point.
        "Exactly." He confirmed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "We don't gotta rush into nothin' like that."
        "I've thought about it." You blurted. Blurting was quickly becoming a habit of yours, you were learning. You gulped.
        "Have ya now?" He smirked. He knew that already. Of course you did, just like he had plenty of times. You were both adults with desires. He wasn't blind to that.
        "Uh-huh." You nodded slowly. "Every time I--"
        Your hand slapped over your mouth again. What were you doing? Were you really about to admit that you fantasized about him every time you touched yourself?
        "Every time ya what?" He raised his eyebrows tauntingly. "Played with yourself? That's okay." He shrugged. "Everybody does that and if they say they don't, they're lyin'. What're you supposed to think about? Ya supposed to count the cracks in the ceilin' or somethin?"
        While he enjoyed the way you squirmed under the pressure of this conversation, he still wanted to make light of it. He joked to make it easier for you.
        "Do you think about it?" You asked quietly. His face lit up a little. It was much more amusing when the spotlight was on you. 
        "I mean," he shrugged. "What else would I think about?"
        You blushed. He thinks about you when he touches himself too?
        "I dunno.." You shrugged sheepishly. "I just..." You realized how foolish and childlike you must have looked to him right there. You straightened up and held your head high. "Well, I want to."
        "I don't think ya mean that."
        "I do." You insisted.
        He looked you over. He definitely wasn't opposed to the idea, but he was nervous. He had no idea what kind of experience a pretty girl like you would have over his drunken one nighters and failed attempts at relationships in the past. You never told him you were a virgin. After all, it never came up.
        "Okay." He nodded. "Wha'd'ya wanna do, then?"
        You faltered. What?
        "What?"
        "Wha'd'ya wanna do?" He asked again. 
        "Uh..." You glanced around the room. What did he mean? How many ways were there to... What? "I wanna... have.. sex?" You said, more as a question than a definitive. 
        "Uh-huh. But there's lots o' ways to have sex." 
        He plopped back down on the couch, glancing at the movie credits rolling behind you. He had a feeling you'd back out when you realized that you were in over your head.
        "Um, I want to..." You waded through the marshy wetland of thoughts and memories inside your head, trying to recall every piece of erotic information you had ever known. What was it Rosita had said? "Vanilla missionary?"
        He stifled a laugh. "Oh yeah? That's all?"
        Well, shit, man. What the hell else did he want from you?"
        "And..." You trailed off. 
        "Y'ain't ready for all that yet." He spoke up for you.
        "I am too!" 
        "No, y'ain't." He shook his head, still clearly amused.
        "I am! I just.... I need you to teach me." You said.
        "Teach ya what?"
        "I'm... I'm a virgin." You said just above a whisper. Wow, that was embarrassing to say out loud. He nearly choked. He was not expecting that. At least it meant you wouldn't have high expectations that he couldn't meet or something.
        "Really?" 
        "Yeah." You nodded. "But, I'm an adult and I know what I want. So, show me." You demanded.
----
        After a long battle to get him there, you finally had him in  your room. Both of you just standing there awkwardly in the dim light of a small lamp beside your bed.
        "So." You began.
        "Mm." He hummed, stepping closer to you, running a finger over your shoulder to brush  the hair off of it.
        "Do you... Wanna kiss me?" You asked. A small smile just barely spread on his lips. Of course he did. He just hoped he could make it as tender and special as you deserved.
        He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips against yours, hovering there for a moment before he connected with them fully. Slow, sweet rhythm was what he aimed for. He wasn't sure how he was doing, but when he went to pull back and you followed him like a magnet, he figured he was doing okay.
        He kissed you a little longer, hands resting gently on your sides to keep you steady as you swooned for him. If he hadn't been so sure he had to be the lead in this whole scenario, he would have melted into a puddle. Your lips were so soft, and you were just so damn sweet. He loved how eager you were for him. He just couldn't imagine taking advantage of you, which was why he made you walk in a straight line before he brought you up to your room. Just in case you had more to drink than he thought.
        When he pulled away for real this time, you were desperate for more.
        "Why'd you stop?" You pouted under your breath. He let out a soft chuckle.
        "All in time, darlin'." He said as he guided you back to the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress and you sat down.
        "Now what?" You asked. He considered your question.
        "Lay down." He instructed softly.  You did. 
        He crawled over you. Your heart began to pound. Was this it?
        He leaned down into your neck and started planting small kisses along the length of it. You gasped quietly. It tickled in the best way. Your hands naturally gravitated to his chest, resting them against him. He trailed his lips down to your collarbone as his finger slid the spaghetti strap of your dress down over your shoulder to keep it out of the way. His kisses lined over your collarbone and all over your chest, at least the upper half. You laid your hands on his shoulders.
        He hadn't even touched you anywhere significant but your panties were absolutely soaked. Your eyelids fluttered a little. Why did this feel so good already?
        He went to tug your dress down to expose your breasts but he paused. He looked up at you. "This okay?" He whispered as his finger hooked the dress. You nodded. He slid it down and took a moment to admire the sight beneath him. You were braless. Your nipples hardened with the cold air. Goosebumps peppered over your supple flesh.
        He leaned down and went back to kissing softly around the mounds of breast, one hand gripping gently as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. You gasped audibly at the sensation, reminding him that he was doing things right. Your hips twitched as the sensitive nerves shot tingles all the way down to your your pussy. Your walls twitched.
        He worked his way to the other nipple, earning the same reaction. He bravely nibbled ever so gently on the second one, pulling the tiniest whine right out of your throat. He smirked a little. So reactive, you were. He almost felt guilty, like he was taking some kind of innocence away from you. Something you could never get back, not that you'd want to.
        His hands slid up your outer thighs. He looked at you again for permission. You nodded. He slid the dress up over your hips and started kissing and nibbling your inner thighs. You twitched and exhaled at the more sensitive spots, and when he got as close as he could to your panties without actually touching them, he pulled back and looked up at you. You were flushed and eager, and it was killing him inside. He smirked again and placed a quick little kiss over your panties, right where he guessed your clit would be. You gasped and jerked at the sudden pressure. He hooked his finger under the waistline of your jeans, again, glancing up at you for permission. You didn't nod this time.
        "Please.." You whispered. 
        He was on top of the world. Hell, he owned the universe. You were begging him for something he had dreamt of giving you.
        He slid your panties down your thighs and over your feet, tossing them to the side somewhere. He stared down at your glistening slit. You were already dripping.
        He traced a single finger over the front of your pelvis, feeling the smooth, freshly shaved skin beneath his callous.
        "Ya didn't have to shave for me." He whispered. You blushed.
        "I just--"
        "Shh. It's okay." He cooed, gently running that same finger down your slit with painful gentleness. Your mouth gaped immediately, eyebrows pressed together. You had touched yourself plenty, but it felt so different when he did it. So new. "All this for me?" He teased, holding up his finger coated in your wetness. You blushed again. He raised his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. You watched, helplessly infatuated with the dreamy sight below. Dreamy. Were you dreaming?
        He lowered his face down, kissing softly over your lips before he finally swiped his tongue through your slit. You jerked and gasped, as you did for the next few seconds as he started to acclimate you to the sensation of his tongue.
        "Relax." She whispered. You gasped again when his tongue glided flatly over your cunt, but you let out a shaky exhale and did as he said. You relaxed. When he felt you melt down into the bed, that was when he really got to work, flicking his tongue over and around your clit until he found a rhythm that you responded to. Your breaths and inhales slowly blended into a pattern of moans and tiny whines. He had you now, exactly how he needed you. Comfortable in bliss.
        He slowed his pace then sped it up a few times, memorizing every reaction your body had to offer. When he stopped licking and started sucking on your clit, he slid a single finger inside you. If you were a virgin he was gonna have to loosen you up and get you ready. He wasn't one to gloat, but he was probably thicker than most, so he knew you'd need as much help as you could get.
        You let out a moan as his digit slid inside you. That paired with the ache in your clit as he sucked at it was giving you visions of stars.
        He got back to licking in little circles over your clit, slow at first, but then he sped up. He slipped another finger in, massaging your insides as your legs began to shake around his shoulders. 
        "Oh god."  You breathed. You felt a buzz in your lower half, a warm feeling building in your lower abdomen. You were getting close, and he could tell. He wanted to make you wait. He wanted you to be as eager for his cock as you were for his mouth. However, he wasn't entirely sure he'd last that long. You were so tight around his fingers, convulsing and pulsating, and he hadn't felt the inside of a woman in a long time.
        So, he took you all the way. He kept his pace with his tongue and fingers as he built you up, brick by brick, until you crumbled. It didn't take long at all. You shuddered and let out a loud moan, hips rocking against his face as you trembled and whined and rode out your orgasm. 
        It was more than you could have ever anticipated. Your fingers were nothing compared to what he had just done to you. You didn't think you'd ever recover.
        He slowed down, just barely gliding his tongue over your clit and twitching his fingers inside you to ensure you rode out the full length of your high, only pulling away and slipping out when he was sure you were overstimulated enough.
        Your chest was rising and dropping as you stared down at him and his wet mess of a chin. Your lids were heavy. He climbed back up to your face and planted a kiss on your forehead before he stood up off the bed and began to strip.
        Oh, right, the sex part. You had forgotten entirely. Your eyes fixated on the bulge under his boxers. They grew wide when he slid those off, too, and the sight of his bare cock hit you. It was long and thick, and you had no idea how you were going to take all that. He didn't expect you to, though. He'd try of course, but he'd be carefully monitoring for any signs of pain.
        When he climbed back on top of you, you stared up at him nervously. He leaned down and left little kisses along your jaw before finally resting his lips on yours. You ran your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back.
        "Ya still want this?" He mumbled against you.
        "Yes." You whispered. 
        He took your approval and looked down and guided his tip to your entrance. You bit your lip with anticipation when you felt the hard pressure of his head against you. He looked at you. You nodded. With that final gesture, he pushed the tip in. Your face contorted. He watched you as he pushed in a little more, and a little more, stopping when you whimpered.
        "Y'alright?"
        "Uh-huh." You squeaked.
        "Y'sure?"
        "Yeah. Keep going. I want you to." You insisted. Well, if you insisted.
        He pushed in further, achingly slow until he bottomed out. When the base of his shaft connected with your pelvis, your eyes widened. You let out a deep moan. Your own fingers could neve stretch you that way, could never reach that far inside you. It was an entirely new feeling. You couldn't tell how you liked it just yet.
        When you didn't protest, he pulled out and pumped back in, slowly at first, soft strokes, until your body relaxed and you were visibly acclimated. 
        When he was confident you could take it, that was when he sped up, fucking you harder and  faster by the minute. Your body tensed up around him. He could feel your walls clench and pulsate around his cock. He was starting to think you might cum again.
        He leaned into your ear.
        "Can ya cum again for me?"
        Your eyes glazed over, lids falling lazily over the majority of your vision. Between your moans and whimpering you managed to choke out the words; "I-- I think so.."
        "Mm." He growled lowly. You gripped his arms tightly, tuning out every thought as you pictured his cock pumping in and out of you, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you had no idea existed until that moment. A familiar warmth washed over you. Tension in your stomach built and built, until finally.
        "Yes!" You gasped, as if answering his question again.
        "C'mon, girl.." He panted. He was also terrifyingly close, teetering on the edge. He only held back in hopes he'd squeeze another orgasm out of you first.
        A high pitched whine escaped you as your body buzzed, shivers crawling over you as you came. If your sounds weren't enough, he could feel the pulsation around his cock and he knew he was almost in the clear. He clenched his jaw, trying as hard as he could to hold it back while he fucked you through your climax. Eventually he just couldn't take it anymore. 
        He pulled out as fast as he could, groaning as he stroked and milked hot cum out onto your stomach. You were breathless and sex drunk as you laid limp on the bed, watching him. When he caught his breath, he leaned down and grabbed your panties. He used them to wipe you clean of your own juices and his, before doing the same for himself.
        "Ya gon' make it?" He teased you in your incapacitated state.
        "Yep." You said lazily. "'Cause I'm gonna need  more."
        He chuckled. "I need time to--"
        "I meant tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day." 
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cerealmilker · 20 days
Text
while visiting the doctor he asks you if you’d like to participate in highly important medical research for a bit of extra cash, he says they’ll pay five thousand bucks at the end of the research and all you have to do is “run a few standard tests and stay a couple of nights at a research facility”
you agree, i mean he said it was important and the fact they are paying you is a nice added bonus, what could be so bad about a couple of nights in a medical research facility?
the next day you arrive at the address given to you, an empty secluded carpark, with a black SUV parked in the middle. you get out expecting maybe a doctor or a scientist to happily greet you, they did say it was highly important, surely this is normal right? instead four suited men emerge from the doors of the vehicle and grab you roughly by the arms and legs carrying you into the car, kicking and struggling you notice one reach into his pocket, pull out a small cloth and push it close against your face. you only remember the sweet smell as you blackout.
florescent white light invades your vision when you re awake. groggy, you try to stretch your arms when you realise you cant move them, infact, you cant move anything from your neck down. you look down to see you are strapped down on a padded table, arms pinned to your sides, legs spread apart, naked and vulnerable. you were so confused, what the hell was going on?
you see a man, a clean looking older man wearing a white lab coat enters the room holding a clipboard and a pen and takes a seat next to you in a chair just out of your vision. you try to speak, to ask him what was going on but your words are muffled and barely audible, in your mouth was a small gag. after a couple of minutes hearing him writing on a his clipboard you notice a wet squelching sound approaching you, as it got to where you were strapped on the table you heard the man speak. “time is 22:43, first compatibility test starts now”
you felt multiple long slimy tentacles wrap round your already restrained thighs, more made their way onto your chest circling your breasts and eventually teasing your nipples, they began by gently prodding them, tapping and nudging your nipples before placing one of their suckers on each of them. this can’t be happening. you feel your clit twitch. no this- this is so wrong, you didn’t sign up for this, why was this happening to you? what was this thing? and why….why was it making you wet?
you didn’t get the chance to be confused for much longer, feeling another slimy appendage make its way up your legs, it makes its way up your thigh and then stops, right infront of your cunt. slowly it rubs itself up and down your slit, mixing its slime with your wetness before making is way to your clit. again it prods, pokes and taps at the bud between your legs. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, you really dont want to be turned on by this but something about the way the tentacle on has now switched to suckling gently on your clit has you gushing.
“the subject responds incredibly well to stimulation provided by the first creature” the man speaks calmly, you cant stop your eyes from rolling in the back of your head, every single movement from the appendages had you twitching. its like they new exactly how and where to touch you.
you felt another appendage press at the entrance to your cunt. this one was thicker than the rest, the tip pushes into your hole, and even the first few inches are a stretch. it pushes further and further in stretching your little tight hole nice and wide for it. you cum just from the stretch alone, and the extra stimulation on the rest of your body. whatever this creature is, it does not care that your pussy has never taken anything this big before, it starts brutally shifting in and out of your stretched hole, rubbing up every wall again and again and again. you start to see stars, the overstimulation way too much for your poor body to handle.
and right when you think your on the edge, about to blackout. it stops and pushes deep down, up against your cervix. you feel its hot sticky fluid invade your womb while it twitches up against your walls. all the other appendages stop stimulating your nipples and clit, hearing them slither off and away from the table. you lie and wait, surely it was done secreting whatever fluid has just entered you and will pull out? a couple of minutes turn into ten maybe fifteen, the only sound you could hear being the mans pen on his paper.
again you hear the man speak “test will resume in 3 days, subject and creature will stay linked until birthing”
you start to cry as you hear him leave, realising you’re stuck there. overstimulated cunt stuffed to the brim with alien sperm, and a huge tentacle between your legs to keep you company till the birth of its offspring. lets hope it doesn’t get bored and play with that swollen little bud of yours.
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dragonsholygrail · 4 months
Text
Without Much Spoken
Astarion x gn!Reader
a/n: My first attempt at posting for bg3 and Astarion. But I plan to continue posting many more fics for not only this lil guy, but for a lot of the party! So stick around!
summary: During one night of your groups travels together, Astarion enters the room to find you overwhelmed and crying. Acting before thinking it through, Astarion comforts you.
word count: 1.1k
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Walking up the stairs of the Inn their group was staying in for the next couple of days, Astarion opens the door as he normally would, heading to bed after the exhausting day that had finally, at last, ended. He was more than ready to plop into bed and fall into a hopefully dreamless sleep. His only true escape that lasted far few hours.
But as soon as the door creaked open, a small sliver of light shining through, your sobs broke through the silence like a fierce screech. They stopped a moment after, the silence even more heavy and the tension growing thick the longer neither of you speak.
Astarion opens the door, only a bit further. Enough for the light from the hall to catch on your features. Your frozen, having fled to isolation in order to prevent this. To stop anyone from seeing you, to not bother anyone else with the weight of your intensely hyperactive feelings. Especially him. God, you didn’t want to bother him with this.
Astarion was always good for a light joke, a quick quip. He was good at that. At making things feel lighter, even unintentionally making you feel better at times. But that’s not what you wanted right now. You didn’t want to feel better in that way, you didn’t want to attempt to push aside your emotions for another, you didn’t want to just forget about what you felt. You needed to let out what was overwhelming you. What twisted your gut with anxiety, what made it hard to breathe, what sent your body into overdrive, what clouded your mind and made you feel like a complete mess.
You needed it out, and you knew Astarion wasn’t typically the one to go to with that sort of thing. You never held it against him, you cared for him, you may even love him. But you knew he had little to no experience in the ways of comforting someone. Knew he didn’t really know how to do that. So, in an action you convinced herself was selfless, you didn’t confide in him. Didn’t give him the chance to offer whatever type of comfort he possibly could provide.
And Astarion knew it all and more. With his past, he knew how to read people easily. Learning how others think was vital in his line of work, in his everyday life, in his survival… Reading you always seemed a little bit easier for him to do than it was with others. He could see what you were trying to do. The way your body stiffened on the bed, the tears both dried and fresh on your cheeks, the way your hands clenched as if you wished the ground would swallow you whole.
Astarion didn’t feel any particular way about this revelation. He could see your reasoning, your line of thinking and what brought you to the conclusions you ended up at. So he honestly couldn’t explain why he reacted the way he did.
His hand shuts the door, encompassing you both back into darkness without thought. His feet move toward you on their own. Though the darkness surrounds you both, both of your eyes end up adjusting again. You can see the way Astarion stops at the edge of the bed, his form hovering over your curled frame on the bed.
It’s without a word that he slides into bed behind you, his back resting comfortably against the headboard. His legs spread wide, giving you enough space to sit between them. His hands softly curl around you, not trying to overwhelm you even more. One hand around your stomach, feeling the erratic breaths you take as you attempts to hide your cries. The other hand over your heart, feeling its pounding rhythm, both from the mix of emotions that sent you to this state and from him finding you here. He didn’t need to do this, his hearing being able to pick it up well enough on its own. But for some reason he needed the reassurance. That it was all real.
He pulls you into his chest and you don’t hesitate to fall against him, putting your weight on him. He isn’t doing this to prove anything to you. To prove he can comfort you, if you needed him to. No, he isn’t going to make you come to him and he’s not going to make you hide. He doesn’t know why he’s done this. He just… did. Wanted to. It’s all he can grasp onto.
The feeling of him being there was enough, you realize. It had taken so much energy to try and remain still after Astarion found you, but now that he was here and he’s staying, you can’t hold it in any longer. It physically pained you beyond explanation. Sobs broke out of you, the action moving your body with its force. You couldn’t control it.
Astarion just sits there, not saying anything and not really doing anything either. But it’s more than enough. You didn’t realize how being alone had made everything so much worse. You thought that being alone, having nothing around that could possibly add to your array of emotions was what was best for you. But as you two laid together, you noticed the way Astarion didn’t add anything. The way he could actually help in ways everyone else just couldn’t seem to.
Eventually you begin to calm down, your body shaking but your emotions releasing and leaving you. That’s when you feel Astarion’s hand on the back of your head. You jump slightly, but besides that, you don’t dare acknowledge it. His hand gently starts combing through your hair. Then when he reaches the end, he brings it back to the top of your head. You sigh heavily, falling into him further. The peace of the empty silence, the darkness that covers everything, washes over you both. Neither of you seem to want to break it.
You tilt your head ever so slightly, hoping he doesn’t stop. The gesture was doing wonders to help calm you down further. You can barely make out Astarion through the darkness, but you can see enough to tell he’s simply staring ahead. It’s then you realize that he probably hadn’t even noticed what he’s doing to you. How he’s actually comforting you. It sends waves of pleasure through you, working both to overwhelm you a bit more and yet also calming you. You fall back, fully resting on him once again as he, in a way, pets you. Your eyes seemingly closed on their own.
It’s only after an unknown amount of time that he murmurs in your ear, “I’m here.”
1K notes · View notes
whatthefishh · 11 months
Text
C*ck Therapy
Therapist Steven Grant x patient!camgirl!female reader
Warnings: 18+, taboo relationship, therapist-patient sexual relations, c*ck warming, p in v, unprotected, mentions of cam girl activities, mentions of masturbation, mentions of oral (f rec), umm.. how else do I tag this. Brat taming Steven.
Just 1.8k words of horniness I’m sorry. Beta’d by the lovely @melodygatesauthor
“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s got you so angry, love,” he said while gripping your hips down onto his, not letting you roll them the way you longed to.
See, Steven used to be your therapist. He used to be your kind, respectful, and attentive therapist for about 4 months but that quickly changed when you decided to divulge your secondary income source – your premium content. Subscription based content. Adult modeling. Your camgirl side hustle. Whatever you wanted to call it.
He didn’t take the information as well as you were hoping, stuttering and blushing and not meeting your eyes, and you felt uncomfortable, thinking he was judging you for it. In actuality, Steven had found your profile a few weeks prior to your confession, and couldn’t help but palm himself to your entire content library. He’d never come harder than he had on the first night he stumbled upon one of your videos. It wasn’t long before he became addicted to the way you fell apart on camera.
He knew it was wrong, he knew it was probably against some rule about him being your therapist but he couldn’t help it. You were so intelligent in your sessions with him, always providing great insight on your own issues. You were one of his favourite patients. He was really happy with the progress you were making, and well… Steven couldn’t deny that you were beautiful. He was sure you were well aware of your beauty, so he never fancied himself someone you’d find attractive, especially considering the nature of your relationship. It was sort of forbidden. No, it was forbidden. The guilt didn’t stop him from subscribing to you though.
In your sessions, he never made you feel uncomfortable, he never gave away that he knew about your secret side gig, and he honestly wanted to help you. Steven was genuine in his career, he loved listening to you open up to him. He didn’t think his guilty addiction to you was hindering your growth until you mentioned your videos and apparently it showed on his face. He began stumbling over his words, trying desperately to explain that he wasn’t judging you. When you told him he was making a ‘cringe face’, he was forced to admit that he was actually cringing at himself, not at you. It was a painful few moments for you both.
Long story short, he couldn’t keep seeing you in his office, and decided some private sessions in his home were more appropriate. They usually started off with him bending you over the couch and then asking you how your day went as he righted your clothing, or kissing you messily the second you walked through the door, only to ravenously eat you out on the closest surface he could find. He was insatiable. Half your sessions were him just whining and whimpering about how delicious you were and how he couldn’t believe you were really letting him do this to you. Steven still let you talk, still listened to your issues and still tried to therapize you. It was just after he fucked your brains out.
You came over with an attitude today, irritated by external factors and you were looking forward to Steven fucking it out of your system. When you tried to initiate it with him, to get him to give you what you needed, he pulled back to look at you in concern. He offered to talk first, and you got angry and scoffed in his face, ripping yourself from his grasp. He conceded, telling you to take your frustrations out on him as he sat on the couch you usually laid down on in your sessions, patting his thighs in invitation. You were supposed to ride him, putting all your energy into it and watching his brows furrow as he watched his length disappear inside you again and again.
Today, he was hell-bent on you cockwarming him, claiming it was supposed to get you talking quicker but you were highly doubting the validity of his statement with the way his cock was twitching inside you every few minutes. Your slick was coating your thighs and the hairs at the base of his member, flowing more freely the longer he sat unmoving inside your hot channel. Infuriatingly, he held your hips down with his impossible strength, looking up at you with those sweet brown eyes of his as he repeated his question. Shit, what was the question?
“Hmmm?” you managed, after another unsuccessful attempt at rolling your hips.
“I said, what’s got you so angry today, love? Talk to me. I’ll make it worth it, I promise, but first you have to be good and tell me what’s wrong,” he urged, nudging your chin with his shapely nose.
You had inhale deeply, your breathlessness making it hard for you to speak. God, he really was so thick, wasn’t he? He was filling you up so perfectly, stretching you out at this angle and you had to close your eyes to even think about what you were going to say.
“That girl at work… the one I told you about who leaves all her shit for me to clean up after her shift–”
“Mhmm, keep talking, love,” the vibrations from his chest felt like an electric shock through your body, your back arching at the sensations.
“Ahhh, she-she made a mistake, and blamed me… and, and then I got reamed out by my stupid manager,” you were close to crying now, the anger subsiding slowly, and the feeling of being denied by Steven taking over.
“Ohh, sweetheart, s’not right, is it?” He brushed your hair back and rubbed your cheekbone with his thumb, and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm like a cat needing affection. “S’not your fault. Tell you what, maybe you should quit.”
“Maybe you should fuck me, come on, Steven, just–just make it go away, I need you,” you were whining pathetically, ready to let your fists land on his chest in a rage.
Steven tutted at you. He tutted, like you were a petulant child, like you were just having a tantrum, like a teacher gently disciplining a student, not like you were sitting on his cock, leaking all over him and the couch, staining the taupe suede material with your juices. Leaning forward to softly mouth at your neck, he whispers against it and lets his lips graze your skin.
“I wouldn’t be a good therapist if I didn’t let you talk about it first, would I? That’s not very ‘healing comes from within’ of me,” he laughed at the end of it, his hot breath burning you even further.
Oh, you hate him. You tightened your core when he laughed against you, the rumbling causing his cock to shift slightly and you let out a soft moan at the smallest amount of friction it granted you, and he unwillingly thrust upwards at the feeling. Oh, you knew how to get back at him.
Clenching around him again, you wait for his reaction as your lips touch the shell of his ear, whimpering, as he garbled out a choked out groan against your neck. Steven’s hips unwittingly thrust upwards again, knocking into your cervix just that small amount, enough to make you dig your nails into his shoulders where your hands were resting. You were both moaning now, and you think you can tease him like this until he finally gave in and fucked you from under you. You needed him to, therapy be damned.
Dragging your hands up into his hair, he shuddered when your nails scraped across his scalp. He licked his lips, the edge of his tongue grazing your neck before he pulled back to look into your eyes and the previous soft look he was giving you was gone, replaced with a heady look, eyelids low as his mouth was open and panting.
“No, but considering that you’re inside me right now, I’d say you’re halfway there,” you gasp as his hand shifts down to your ass, squeezing, fingers splayed wide and pulling at the flesh there.
You lean more into his chest, your breasts pressing into him now, his mouth sitting just so, dipping down to mouth at them through your top. Steven’s control was slowly slipping, his idea failing spectacularly as he pulled your hips to roll and grind on his. You squeezed your muscles around his thick and throbbing cock again, trying to entice him to pull out to the tip and buck up into you like you wished he would. You were gripping him so tight, and your slick was more than enough to make his movements smooth and yet Steven was holding back from giving you his all, his logic lost on you.
“Steven, please, I’m sorry for being short with you, I’m sorry, okay? Please just–”
You were cut off from your helpless begging when he decided he’d had enough, that you had suffered enough, that you learnt your lesson and that the anger you walked in with was gone, along with his restraint. Steven gripped your ass even tighter, his fingers pressing divots into your skin as he thrust up into you mercilessly, bouncing you on his length as you cried out for him.
His hands were squeezing you, keeping you wide open for him as he rendered you incoherent, pathetic moans and whines leaving you. With your mouth still close to his ear, your noises began spurring him on as he grunted with each pass of his cock into your hot cunt, desperate to reach his end. Your hands began bunching his blazer lapels, angry in the back of your head that he didn’t even take off his jacket when he sat you on his thick shaft. Your soft walls began fluttering around him, signaling that you were almost reaching your end, his relentless teasing having caught up with you now, hurtling you towards the edge quicker.
“Ohh, ffffuck, Steven I’m gonna–gonna come, yes,” you shouted, so close to your euphoria that you were desperate to reach. The way his cock was punching up into your cervix was just perfect, his smell overwhelming you, his hands squeezing you just right, everything was leading to this and you couldn’t help but whine when his thumb swiped at your clit once, twice–
You were coming hard.
His grunts and groans were muffled into your chest, his thrusts getting sloppy while he chased his own release, pulling your hips down to his so hard it almost hurt. Steven bucked his hips one final time before you felt the telltale pulsing inside of you, the warmth of his cum slowly trickling out from where you were still sheathed around him. He pulled back to look at it with brows raised, almost impressed at his own mess while still catching his breath.
“How are you feeling now, love? Still angry at me?”
“I wasn’t angry at you, Steven,” you sigh dazedly, shaking your head at him. “Silly man. But to answer your question, I’m feeling much better now that you’re done torturing me.”
2K notes · View notes
mamayan · 6 months
Text
🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃
Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader
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Good girls should just stay home, lest something goes bump in the night.
cw: NSFW • Implied Murder • Implied Serial Killer • Consensual Non-Consent turned Non-Consensual • Noncon • Dubcon • Abuse • Fingering (F) • Oral (M) • Deep Throating • Rough Sex • Attempted Murder • Hair Pulling • Degradation/Slight Humiliation • Dacryphilia • Yandere Themes • Kidnapping • a little OOC • This story possessed me and basically wrote itself • Barely proof read tbh
wc: 7k+
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Something must be wrong with you.
Or at least, that’s what you imagine the world would think if anyone knew what you were doing.
The room was dark aside from the blue glow of your computer screen. The black web browser with red lettering almost ominous as your eyes scanned the consent form again. It was a consent form just to access the full website, on the surface serving only as a dating type of situation for the BDSM community. Beneath it though were layers deeper than what the simple description actually provided. You only found out about it through a deep dive into multiple sub-threads of Reddit. It was a basket case of crazy, the majority of information or advice, but you managed to dig up one reliable looking source.
This website you were currently on. L@ce&R0pe.com happened to provide a wide variety of goodies, from sex toys to actual published books on shibari, there wasn’t much you couldn’t find. Except like all websites not swallowed up by the deep web, there was never any section like the one you wanted so desperately.
Except this one, because your mouse didn’t hesitate to shift and hover over the drop down section for MEET, where you could link up with real people for whatever your heart desired really. You trailed down to NEW FRIEND, and clicked. A new tab opened, this one themed differently than the main website. It was light blue and pink, almost like a baby shower, except the only thing on the page was a single drop down menu, and clicking it made your head ache. There were thousands of options, but thankfully it was organized alphabetically, so you could easily scroll mindlessly until you hit the C section.
You found what you wanted, clicking it as your chosen option and hitting GO.
The screen changed, this time it looked similar to a dating profile fillable. You worked quickly, efficiently even, as you typed all your information in.
Not your name or address, nothing silly like that. Just your measurements, your favorite foods or beverages, the color of your eyes, your hair color, your height, and even the style of your nails. It asked if you liked to brush your hair everyday, how often you showered, what shampoo or body wash you like. You answered them all, as invasive as they soon became, you never wavered. What brand of deodorant do you use? How often do you clip or file your nails? To what length? Do you shave your pubic area? How often? What style? How many sexual partners have you had? Where have you had sex? Which hole do you prefer? Are you a crier or a screamer? Does blood turn you on? Do you like physical or mental pain more? Have you ever been raped before?
They got more personal and physiological as you answered. You felt hot and stuffy despite the window being open and the cool autumn air blowing in. You kept answering even as your throat got tighter and unease nestled into your clavicle.
Do you want to know who your new friend will be?
This time you do hesitate. Knowing would make it feel safer. Knowing would give you some semblance of control. Knowing would be the smart choice.
You clicked “no” and submitted the form, sealing your fate as your hands shook and adrenaline pumped through your veins.
You set the date for October 31st. Now all you had to do was wait and show up.
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A notification hit his phone, lighting up the screen as cigarette smoke billowed around him in the back alley. A quick glance was all he needed to unlock and fully see the entire screen. The leather of his jacket rubbed against the brick he leaned against.
Halloween was probably the best time for such fun, crime rates skyrocketing and parties being loud and wild really left a big gaping hole for any type of heinous activity to occur. He grinned as the information poured onto his screen. His dick already becoming painfully hard as he read all your supplied information. You liked breath play, having someone spit in your mouth, even being slapped around. He was always amazed by the lack of shortage for sick freaks like you, but then again, he was one of them too. Licking his top lip, tongue piercing flicking out to rub against his cupid’s bow, he clicked “ACCEPT” on the notification. He had all your information, the when and where, and your adorable little comment of “Please don’t degrade me.” What more could he ask for? His smile is sinister in the low light off the neon sign of the bar, casting a purplish hue on his skin as he chuckles and shoves his phone away. Flicking his cigarette butt onto the dirty ground, he cracked his neck and knuckles before going back inside to finish his beer and round of pool with his friends.
He’ll see you on Halloween. He might even dress up a little for the occasion.
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It’s cold.
It’s nearly November so you hadn’t expected warm weather necessarily, but it seemed chillier than usual despite your fairly insulated dress.
You dressed up as an angel, the irony not lost on you at all but it felt fitting almost for the occasion. The pristine white looked off in your surroundings. It was nearly midnight, but despite that the sidewalk of the park was filled with a fairly regular crowd of people passing through, on to the next party or home to sleep off all the alcohol. Really, you weren’t too out of place, in your white stockings and black heeled boots, the fluffy ruffled white babydoll dress that barely covered your ass or tits and the wings which were strapped around your shoulders and jutted out behind you. On your head was a slim clip which was attached to a white shiny halo that seemed to float above you, only a thin wire keeping it up. You’d at first felt a little exposed passing children going home for the night after trick or treating, eyes of judgemental families which you ignored boring into you, but now it was time for the adults to have fun. You’d already passed a plethora of college students or older dressed even more scantily than you, making you feel better, safer, out in the park you’d chosen. You’d chosen 0300 as your designated meetup time, but specified you’d be early in case they wanted to start sooner. So here you stood, under a streetlamp that illuminated you in a yellow glow, making you seem even more angelic despite the ominous darkness surrounding you. You were busy playing on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and trying not to appear too excited. Or scared. You figured it was a combination of both, the arousal and fear bleeding into one very specific but unnamed emotion. Tapping your boot to a rhythm only you could hear, the night drew on and another hour passed. The droves of people passing didn’t dwindle, but it was always a group, never a single individual which you hoped was your new friend. It was almost 0130 when you felt watched, goosebumps rising on your skin as you realized someone must be looking at you. A quick glance around showed no one though, and after ten minutes your hope dissolved into disappointment. It seemed your friend wasn’t an early bird.
“Hey,” a raspy, deep voice speaking almost directly into your ear, startling you enough to elicit a yelp. You turned, eyes landing on a dark clothed chest and trailing up to a hooded face you could barely make out through a mess of blue hair. His lips look a bit chapped, a small scar decorating a corner, but his teeth are white and straight as he smiles a grin that causes shivers to shoot down your spine.
…maybe your friend was an early bird, just not as much as you.
You take a step back, stuttering stupidly due to your overactive nerves and the earlier shock of his sudden appearance. “H-hi…um,” the stranger tilts his head, eyes still not visible, dark hoodie baggy on his frame. He looks a bit thin, like he wouldn’t have a lot of strength, his jeans having some strange splattering of fake blood or something on them. You lick your lips, heart ready to leap from your chest but not quite ready for the events to unfold.
Or maybe you were very ready.
“You’ve been standing here for hours,” he comments nonchalantly, hands moving to shove inside the large inner pocket on his hoodie, “Aren’t ya tired of waiting for your boyfriend?” His question is a bit confusing, and when you glance around you, it dawns that there’s no one out right now. When had the crowds dwindled to nothing? “I don’t… have a boyfriend…” you had clearly stated that online too, so he already knew the answer to your relationship status. Was he just teasing? Keeping this as realistic as possible? It made you a bit pleased. You fiddled with the ends of your cute frilly dress, exposing a small portion of your skin and garter belt which kept your thigh high socks up. His eyes tracked the motion, lips pulling up even higher making his smile menacing. Dangerous. “That so?” He asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a reply as he steps closer, his beat up sneakers so silent on the ground it’s a little unnerving. Since he’s playing along so much, it feels wrong for you to not reciprocate.
“What do you think you’re doing, creep? Stay back,” You hope he’s not offended by the name, figuring it wasn’t too mean or odd of a thing to call him. Your firm stance and defiant gaze make him pause, head tilting again but he’s quick to recover and laugh. It’s less of a sexy and deep chuckle like you expected, and more pitched and giggly. It’s almost creepy to hear from a grown man. Like a child from a horror movie laughing. “Creep? Yeah? Guess I am, but you know what?” His head lifts, and since he’s more centered under the tall street lamp, when he looks straight at you, two red eyes flash. “I’m a lot fucking worse than your average dumbass creep,” you jolt when he lunges at you, hand outstretched to grab you. It’s instinctive how quickly you turn and run, adrenaline helping you shoot off into the park where no light but the moon shined down. This is what you wanted, you chant to yourself to stay level headed enough to not truly panic. This was staged and as safe as possible. He’s not actually going to hurt you. You’d be fine, albeit maybe a little sore tomorrow morning. You shut your mind off and focus on running, though your speed wasn’t great in such cheap and unstable boots, roots and random objects on the ground constantly tripping you up.
You looked like the dumb girl in the horror movies, tits practically out of your low cut revealing white dress, strapless white bra damn useless and more for show than any real support or push-up. You huffed, digging in your heels when you heard a few twigs snap behind you, feet carrying you faster as you realized he was gaining on you quickly. He didn’t shout and you didn’t scream. The chase was exhilarating, your mind becoming fuzzy as your lungs burned for more oxygen. You hadn’t planned a chase, really leaving it all up to fate and your new friend, but this was perfect.
Until fingers tangled tight in your hair and yanked you completely off your feet, your shoes and legs going out in front of you as you landed gracelessly on your ass. Then an intense burning in your scalp erupts, a hiss of pain and a whine escaping as you slide over cool damp foliage, senseless grumbling coming from the stranger as he drags you into a deeper more secluded section of the park, away from any and all prying eyes. Not like anyone gave a damn. “I-it hurts!” You feel childish for crying, tears pricking your eyes but the burn was worse than you imagined truly, soft hands coming up to try and pry his fingers off.
He has a grip of iron apparently, not the least bit phased as he sighs, hauling you up and tossing you in front of him. You land weirdly on your left shoulder, a shock of pain numbing your mind as you heave for air and roll over. When you open your eyes, you’re face to face with him. His hood pulled off, shoulder length blue hair now tied back and up into a little bun while some stray pieces frame his face and forehead. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as they take him in.
He’s young, maybe early twenties, with pale skin and dark bags hugging beneath his scarlet eyes. He’s got a beauty mark just below his lip on the right side, the scar you saw earlier on the other. He’s not hard on the eyes, cute even, but the strange air around him makes the close proximity fill you with anxiety. His eyebrows are thin and sparse, but he cocks one with a smirk. “Not gonna scream for help, crybaby?” The nickname makes you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, you blink them away quickly, shaking your head and trying to find your words again. “I—uh, do you want me to?” Wouldn't screaming just make it more likely for someone to call the police? You figured a little noise was fine, but screaming seemed counter productive.
His eyes widened a bit, confusion painting his features as he crouched down more comfortably on his haunches to get a better look at you.
He’d been watching you since you got to the park. A single party in this sort of place always sticks out like a sore thumb. You looked more ready for a porno than a costume party, from behind the view of your ass indescribably arousing in your short little dress. It was both a slutty and innocent look you pulled off well, at least enough to make him riled up, cock twitching in agreement within his pants. He shamelessly rubbed it through his jeans, caressing the hardening length and letting you watch with glee. Your face made him snort, amusement evident as he chuckles and squints. “You like this, little freak?” You looked like you did, he notes. Your wide pretty eyes, still a little teary and red at the ends, showed your blown out pupils. You looked to be more star struck, not terrified like any normal girl chased through a park and dragged into a little corner between some trees to be out of sight. He watches you swallow hard, lips parting before closing as if you aren’t sure what to say to that question. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he grins, “a cute little slut who stood out at night all alone as if begging for someone to come along and do something nasty.” You release a tiny yelp as he meanly shoves you back, straddling your upper chest with his thighs as he hunches over you, looming ominously above with wild eyes screaming for chaos. “Good thing that I came along, huh? Make all your nasty little fantasies come true.” He watches you gasp as he presses his fingers against your lips, confusion evident on your face but you aren’t really putting up much of a fight as you open and let him slide two in. “Nasty fucking girl, look at you, when you don’t even fucking know me.” He chuckles, and while he’s teasing you mostly, he is amazed. You looked erotic as hell right now, little angel costume all wrinkled and a bit dirty from the earth below, pretty face a bit stained with mascara that had run a little from your earlier tears. You weren’t wearing the waterproof kind it seemed. Lips bitten and chewed on, plump and glossy from whatever glittery shit you swiped on them earlier now wrapped around his digits as he dug around in your warm wet mouth. “Suck on them, slut,” he orders, his smile dropping and face becoming more serious as you hurry to obey, a strange trepidation building in your gut. He groans as he feels your tongue wiggle and swirl, pumping his fingers a bit now and enjoying the little bleats you release when he chokes you a bit with them. “Wonder if you’re soaked down here~” he hums, leaning back a bit and yanking his fingers from your lips, wiping the excess saliva across your cheek and huffing a laugh as your features wrinkle in distaste. His hand moves behind him, easy access to your cunt due to the frilly dress hiked up almost around your waist, revealing cute soaked white cotton panties he growls at the sight of. “You really suck at putting up a fight, crybaby, but I think I heard somewhere that girls get wet when scared too…” those red eyes flick back to your own, "You scared?” He asks, almost softly. He watches you breathe, chest struggling a bit under his weight but your hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie, not pushing him away. “A little…?” Is your shaky response, and he wonders silently if you’re an idiot or just a pervert. You might be both, because when he lets his thumb dig into where your pussy lay poorly hidden, you moan for him and spread your legs wider. You make it even easier to search for his desired location, your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-oh—!” Your head falls back, little halo becoming a bit misshapen as it gets flattened to the ground, he tsks, fixing it with his free hand as he thumbs your little clit and watches you mewl and writhe beneath him, pleasure clearly visible on your face. Your hips buck and wiggle, body pinned beneath his and unable to get away or closer like you desperately want for more friction than he’s providing. “P-please,” you can’t help but beg, hoping your new friend is merciful enough to make you cum and not simply edge you all night.
It’s the pouty expression which makes him nearly feral, his grin spreading wide again as he keeps working his finger on your clit but his face closes the distance between your own. His lips just barely graze yours, and you are all too happy to part your lips and give him a sloppy kiss back, his own tongue finally slipping into your mouth where you suck. The smooth muscle in your mouth and the saliva dripping from it drive you wild, hands now dragging him closer and trying to make him do more for you. The heat spreads slowly however, his pace not changing, and despite his slim build he’s much stronger than you. You aren’t able to take any more than what is given, huffing in exasperation and groaning when he places more force before easing off. “S-stop teasing…” you whine against his lips, which were much softer than they look. He smirks, airy chuckle felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh, “how can I not, you’re such a rare find, I plan to take my time with you.” He kisses you hard to silence whatever whines you planned to release to make him give you more. Instead he forces you into a slow building orgasm that leaves him having to pin your wrists above your head lest your clawing rip his skin open. He works you gently and cruelly into it, loving how you gasp and choke for him, eyes rolling back while you shake almost like you’re possessed and soak through your panties. “There you go, heh, normally I wouldn’t bother to take my time with whiny bitches, but you’re more obedient and sweet than I first assumed.” He whispers into your ear as you come down from the mind blowing high, body limp and pliant like dough now. The insult from him brings out a little whine of protest, teary eyes looking at him with almost something akin to betrayal.
“I-I don’t like being called mean names…I said so online too,” he pulls up finally, the chill of the night attacking full force on your now exposed cunt as he brings your panties up to his nose to inhale. His eyes narrow, almost into slits as he pulls them back and shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “Oh yeah? You post that shit on your social media or something? Sorry, I don’t really use those trash platforms. I have a Twitch stream though,” he acts like this is the time for a regular conversation, even as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down his hips to pull his cock free. Your eyes go wide, mind a bit blank and missing something, in favor of looking at him pump his length lazily. A trail of blue curls like on his head travel from his navel to his groin where it spreads out a little, the color a bit darker as it goes lower. He’s not one to shave it seems, but your eyes focus on his cock, average in length but girthy with a tip that curves up almost perfectly. It looks like a cock someone would sell as a dildo at a sex store. It was pretty, admittedly, as a few pearls of pre-cum dotted the tip and spilled over as he slowly worked it above you. “Hungry?” He jokes, but when you nod he grits his teeth and bites back a moan, the night truly more unexpected than he thought. “Open up then, crybaby.” He thankfully didn’t call you a bitch again, crybaby the less of the evils and more acceptable of a petname for your preference as you open your lips and awkwardly lean your head forward. “No need to lean up,” he mumbles, shifting until his knees now rested by your shoulders, tip just in your mouth and his forearms on the earth above your head. He’s looking down at you, and you lay back down as he works his cock in your mouth. He’s going to fuck your mouth, you realize a bit late, the position so easy for him to hit balls deep in your throat and prevent you from running just from his weight alone. You’re pinned to earth, the scent of crisp autumn becoming mingled with the musky masculine odor the stranger had clinging to him. Something smelled of iron too, but it was fainter and didn’t bother you too much, not when he seemed determined to suffocate you with his cock. You jerk a little, teeth accidentally grazing his cock and his hiss of pain alerts you that you’ve hurt him. He pulls up and out of your mouth, glaring ferociously as he looks down at you with contemplation. “Sorry—! I’m not used—,” the words leaving you mouth go unfinished as you’re suddenly looking away and down, confusion wracking your mind before white hot pain erupts across your face and you cry out in agony.
He watches with a cool nonchalance as you whimper and cry, holding your inflamed cheek and looking at him with teary eyes filled with questions. The sight doesn’t help his hardness, your face swelling a bit from the force of the blow already, but it was still arousing how you cried for him so easily. “Don’t bite my fucking dick and I won’t hit you, clear?” He’s grabbing you roughly by the hair again, yanking you up and no longer in the mood for that awkward position as he stands and pulls you to your knees. This position at least gives him a good eye full of your tits, shaking from your little trembling as you’re made to look up at him. His angry reddened cock next to your injured cheek is a sight for him, his hand gripping his shaft and slapping you lightly on the cheek with it, his hand in your hair preventing you from turning away even as you whimper in pain. “Okay, we’ll try this again, crybaby. Open.” You do, even as tears run like waterfalls down your face, mascara smeared and making a pathetic sight for sore eyes of you, you let his cock enter your mouth once more.
Because you’ve never been more aroused.
Your stranger isn’t nice, pushing hard and deep into your throat immediately and gagging you. You’re careful with your teeth, jaw already burning and aching as he locks his arm and hand, strands of hair tearing out as he works his hips into your face at an uneven pace. “Stop fucking moving,” he growls, stepping even closer, blocking any and all exits and forcing you to take it. His cock didn’t seem so scary when he’d pulled it out, but in your throat it was a plug to your oxygen and felt too big for your poor mouth. It hurt, feeling him go too deep and leaving you coughing and sputtering and even still he wouldn’t pull out, groaning and pressing impossibly deep like he truly means to suffocate you. “You got a good little mouth pussy, crybaby. Fuck—take my cock, just like that.” He moans, watching as you struggle on his dick to breathe or swallow, slobber and tears coating his cock as he makes a mess of your pretty face. He doesn’t care that your eyes are starting to roll back, hands which had previously been clawing at his legs going limp at your sides. You acted more like a hole for him to fuck when you were limp like this, and it drove him wild as he grunted like an animal and rutted into your mouth like he held a grudge against you. Both hands dug into your hair, hands pulling you back onto his cock when his hips bucked you away. “Never fucked a—holy shit—ah, mouth so damn good before—, ah fuck, fuck,” he’s getting breathier as time ticks by, his own eyes rolling back as his balls draw up tight. “I’m going to cum, ready for me crybaby? Want it in your tummy or on your face?” He’s being condescending on purpose, but it’s a bit useless considering he’s rendered you nearly unconscious on his dick. He shrugs your lack of response off, pumping his cock down your throat until he sees stars and yanks himself free just before the first spurt misses and hits the grass below, he grips the base, pumping and shooting his next shot right onto your face. He yanks your head against his thigh, delirious face dazed and coughing softly as he finishes on your glitter and mascara run cheeks, using the tip to smear it well into your ruined makeup as he sneers at you from above.
“Hah…” he catches his breath, sucking in oxygen along with you as his gaze turns calculated.
“Wake up, I’m not done with you yet.” He’s more gentle now that he's cum at least once, tapping your uninjured cheek with two fingers as your eyes roll around before opening and looking at him.
He swears, your face making him hard again instantly, blood pooling to his groin at the messy sight of you in your white ruined angel costume. “You really are unlucky I was out tonight, I don’t think I’m gonna let you go.” His dead serious comment caused something cold to hit your veins, chills running through you as you gape in shock.
“W-what…?” He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out what looked like a foot long serrated hunting blade. He snickers at the blank look of shock on your features.
“What’s wrong, crybaby? No tears for me right now?” You’re shaking, getting paler by the second as you realize no, it’s not a costume, and yes, there is still dried blood on the blade. There’s dried blood all over him, his spree tonight ridiculously fruitful and his body still high on the thrill. Imagine his luck finding you. “T-this wasn’t in my profile, wh-what are you doing?” Now you look alert, now you act like a regular civilian, he notes cooly. “I only con-consented to the sex and stuff, I said I didn’t like—like blades or blood play.” Your eyes are wide as saucers and you have a cold sweat now forming and dotting your skin, shaky like on too much caffeine as your body dumped chemicals to help you run.
His head tilts, a few more strands of hair coming loose from his tie as those red eyes watch you without any emotion in their depths.
“Ah~ I get it now. Are you some kind of freak who links up with people online for this kind of shit?” He laughs, eyes not matching the manic toothy grin. “Sorry to disappoint slut, I ain’t your tinder or whatever match. Did you do it anonymously?” He’s beyond amused, thrilled by the horror dawning on your face as reality sets in. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He sneers, but he’s joyful when you book it, heeled boots caked in mud as they dig into the ground and you take off for real. True intent to get away now because he’s not your new friend, he’s a real stranger and his energy is nothing but malevolent.
You’re going to die.
It’s a sick thought that twists inside you as you push the hardest you’ve ever, scream bubbling up and out as you cry for help now. “HELP! Please! Someone! Anyone!” It’s more broken and hoarse than you want, his earlier abuse to your throat having taken a number on your ability to vocalize.
It’s empty. This damn park is empty.
Not a soul around and you can’t hear him coming for you anymore, and it only makes the tears fall harder as you drive your body to a breaking point. If no one is around you can at least aim for your car, your phone will take too much time to look at and dial the police, you’d be too open and that would mean—
Something—someone—smashes into you, your body thrown sideways by the brute force and flung roughly to the ground where you roll several feet.
It hurts—!
Your body and mind scream as pain lights up your shoulder, a previously dull ache now hounding for your attention so much it left you lightheaded. You twisted your ankle too or maybe broke it, already so regretful for the evening and your life choices that your shoes hardly broke the bank. It all hurt, and yet you still tried to crawl to get away, still eager for another deep breath of air in your lungs even if it hurt to do that too.
“Hck, please, please—help—!,” you’re a sobbing pathetic mess, and he couldn’t be more turned on by the sight. He dusts himself off like he hadn’t tackled you like a linebacker for a major league football team, his lanky form sinewy with muscle and his agility nothing to scoff at. He swirls the enormous daunting blade with a whistle, smiling more genuinely as he strolls towards your shaking form crawling away.
“Where do you think you’re going, crybaby? I said I wasn’t done with you,” he lands a solid hit to your middle, dirty sneaker smearing mud on your cute little dress, looking less and less white as the night wears on. The blow is not hard enough to damage anything, he’s sure, but you act as if you’ve been disemboweled by how you howl and heave. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, settling one foot between your shoulder blades and pressing down until you’re left immobilized.
Your vision is blurry, going in and out of focus as you try, and try, and try to get away, cute nail polish chipped and ruined as you claw at the dirt floor for leverage.
He admires your tenacity. “You think you can get away? That anyone is coming to save you?” He brushes a few stray hairs out of his face as he laughs, the urge to gut you strong as he savors your useless little struggle. “Crybaby, look around! No one is coming! I said look,” he grinds out, dropping to one knee while his other leg remains planted on your back, his hand gripping your hair and yanking your head up to see what he meant.
There’s a fence. A metal chain link fence, and it had a sign your vision was too blurry to read through your tears.
“You ran yourself straight into the worst possible area, this is sort of your game over,” He leans down to look at you, yanking your head back and forcing you into an uncomfortable arch. He raises up the blade, fully intending to slit your pretty throat and watch your eyes as the light fades, but you blubber out a sentence which halts him.
“Y-you didn’t finish! E-earlier, hck, earlier you didn’t finish—!” Your eyes squeeze closed in pain as he yanks your head to the side. Confusion burned in him, and curiosity kept you breathing for now.
“Didn’t finish what, crybaby? Fairly certain I finished all over your face, if I remember correctly.” He has a sharp edge in his tone, something metallic fills your mouth and you realize you’ve bitten through your tongue in your panic. A few drops spill past your lips, catching his attention.
“S-shouldn’t you also f-fuck me too? I-it’s why I came out tonight, wh-why I, ah, d-did this,” it’s a long shot by any means, and he’s no fool, but you did make a good point.
He was still hard.
“Smart little crybaby, aren’t you?” He mutters darkly, setting aside his blade in favor of smashing your face into the dirt, keeping your head down as he presses against your back and yanks your hips up. Your knees are skinned from the rough handling, socks torn open and stained with blood and dirt while his calloused hands slip beneath your dress. Your breath hitches. You needed to think of some way out of this, some kind of plan to escape or incapacitate him.
He’s busied himself with your still dripping cunt. Two fingers roughly filling your hole and uncaringly stretching your tight entrance. “You really are a freak, wet even though you’re going to die, crybaby.” He felt a bit strange as you whimper and mewl below, hand slowing as he tried to place the feeling.
He shrugs it off, instead easily yanking down his jeans which were still unbuttoned and pulling out his cock once more, stroking his shaft a few times before he lined himself up with your puffy lips. “Fuck—,” he swears, eyes seeing stars as he pushes just his tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, mouth opening as licks his lips and stares down at you. “Never had pussy so good…” he giggles darkly, cracking his neck as he pushes each inch inside of you, stretching you out deliciously until you’re speared on his cock with his hips flush with your ass. “Who knew you’d be the best, crybaby.” He muses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, your little dress flipped up and over your ass so he can watch it bounce as he leans back on his knees to fuck you deeper. You need to think straight but it’s difficult with how good your body feels, the pain from earlier seeming to go away with a numb buzz as he fills your pussy, hitting perfectly against a spot that has you arching harder for more.
You really are a freak like he says.
You can’t help relaxing further, eyes dumbly looking to the side where your head rests as he pounds into you from behind, the coil in your gut growing tighter by the minute.
The clouds blocking the moon seem to part just for you, the full moon’s light no longer blocked and illuminating the little patch of grass he’d tackled you into. Something gleams, in perfect reach too as your eyes widen.
His knife.
He’d already proven you can’t outrun him, but what if he was injured? There’s a major artery in the thigh, if you hit that, wouldn’t you be able to get away?
He yanks back roughly, moaning as he feels you squeeze even tighter around him, velvet walls massaging his dick while he tries to fuck himself as deep as possible inside of you.
It hit you despite all your intentions not to, because this wasn’t safe and he wants to end your life and everything is wrong, but your body doesn’t listen. You cum with a shaky cry, and with an awkward turn of your head you watch as his head goes back and he moans, eyes closed in bliss as you coat his cock in even more slick.
You’re louder than you intended to be, but your fingers close around the hilt nonetheless, trembling with the heavy weight in your grasp, you use every ounce of energy inside you to swing it back into his thigh.
“Cute,” you scream as he catches your wrist, hand clenching so tight you feel your bones grind together as the knife falls from your grip. He twists your arm around and pins your wrist behind your back, holding it in place while his other hand remains at your hip.
“So fucking cute, crybaby. Did you cum just to distract me or was that because you couldn’t help yourself?” He’s getting a high from this, from fucking you and turning you into nothing but a toy as he bounces you on his cock, hips still but arms pulling you back and forth with ease. Scarlet eyes drink you in with undisguised sick glee, and he’s finally able to place the feeling from earlier.
“A pretty little slut trying to get her rocks off and getting shown why she should’ve been a good girl and stayed home,” he grunts, releasing you and leaning over, pinning you with his weight and nearly knocking the air from your lungs how deeply he hits you inside from this angle. Dirt fills the underbelly of your nails, your fingers digging into the earth just for some semblance of stability.
You had none. It was a sick and horrifying realization. You have no control. You can do nothing to stop this. As deeply as it made your gut sink, another odd emotion rose to the surface.
A bubbly sensation that tore through you as your tears became less from fear and more from overstimulation.
His hips piston in and out of you, bullying your cervix in this position as he ruts into you like a hound, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he moans and grunts.
You break again, spasm and cinch down on his cock like a vice while you wail as if in mourning. Maybe you are, for yourself at least. “Oh fuck—! s’too much—, please, I can’t—, f-feels good, hah,” your nearly incoherent babbling sends him over the edge along with you, his own dull nails finally drawing blood as he holds you for dear life as he releases deep inside you, tip kissing right up against you womb as he cums. You can feel it too, his cock twitching inside as the night seems to still for a moment.
He holds you for a while. Breathing you in, nuzzling his face into your neck and licking you. He holds you until his cock fully softens and it hurt to be gripped so tightly inside your wet heat, regrettably pulling away.
He stands, putting his sticky limp cock away inside his underwear and pulling up his pants, looking down at your ruined figure that had slumped over to the side.
“Y’know, crybaby… you really resemble an angel now,” he smiles, red eyes almost glowing as the moon blankets his back and shadows his face. His hair seems almost white like this, your tired eyes note. You don’t move or even flinch as he grabs his knife and yanks your limp figure up by your hair. Even now you’re still crying, face lax despite the rivers flowing down your dirty swollen cheeks. You make no effort to stop him, having given up completely.
He crouches down again, mostly eye level now as he makes you look at him.
“You got any last words?” He’s being dead serious. He feels strange looking at the almost glazed over look in your eyes.
“W-what…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the night is so quiet he catches it, “what’s your…name?”
An unexpected question.
His eyes gleam, smile ravenous as he puts his lips against your ear and whispers it.
“Tomura, what’s your name, crybaby?” He asks, gently, almost like he’s actually interested.
You hoarsely whisper it, your last time ever saying it after tonight. He hums, like it pleases him, before he brings down the knife swiftly.
Your vision goes dark, the strike mercifully painless. Your last thoughts blur as you drift into soft nothingness.
He releases your hair, grabbing your limp figure up in his arms as he chuckles and sheaths his knife properly on his hip. “Dumb crybaby” his voice almost singing the words as he whistles and walks away, the park dead silent but even if someone had seen you in his arms, he could just play the good boyfriend taking his sweetheart home safely. It’s not entirely a lie either, his eyes glancing down at your unconscious form, pretty neck unmarred but a bruise would likely form on the back where he struck you tomorrow. Tomura had never felt compelled to allow a victim to live, but then again he’s never fucked a victim either, so you’re the first for a lot. He supposed it made you quite special, his legs carrying him in the direction of his car in the parking lot about a mile south. Obsession and possessiveness swirled in those red depths as they looked at your figure.
“Good girls should just stay home…” he continues his sardonic little tune, his smile gruesome and foreboding.
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Vibrant blue orbs check his surroundings again, noting once again his friend was a no show. Rolling his eyes, he knew it was too good to be true. Your profile screamed inexperienced and cautious, despite you clicking that you’d like him to remain anonymous beforehand. It didn’t matter, he’d just go enjoy some sorority girl pussy instead, figuring at 0330 that most parties would be winding down. Drunk girls dressed like sluts were his second favorite.
Dabi clicks the notify option on his app, letting the website staff know you never showed up.
Though, he muses if something did happen, the police wouldn’t be notified until it was too late. Halloween weekend after all meant you could be missing for quite a while before anyone noticed.
Not his problem though.
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Post dividers/@cafekitsune
827 notes · View notes
misshoneyimhome · 2 months
Note
I’m OBSESSED with your prompt list & I want to request everything for Jack, but don’t want to spam you 😭 so I’ll do one to start hahaha
Can you do Jack with the prompt “Can you help me with my tie?” / “Can you zip up my dress for me?” — either one or both, whatever you’re feeling :)) <3
Babe, feel free to spam me anytime 😉 Although, I'm still practicing my writing skills when it comes to Jack H 🤍
But of course - though I did do a bit of a combo of the two 🌺 and in the end, it turned out to be nothing but sweet fluff
Hope you enjoy it 🤍
Word count; 2.1K
[bestfriend!Jack x reader] - again, I know 🙈
・✶ 。゚
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As one of Jack Hughes’ closest friends, you were simply there for him through thick and thin. From the early days of his hockey career to then, as he’d become a big name in the NHL, you saw every success and setback, always giving him your unwavering support and encouragement.
Your bond with the Devils' star player was definitely something special, built on trust, mutual respect, and shared experiences. Together, you faced the ups and downs of life in the spotlight, as well as found solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of the hockey world.
And to put it bluntly, it wasn’t uncommon for people to mistake you as a couple. Although you tried not to post anything on social media, rumours often circulated. Even family members assumed there was something more to the story when he brought you over at almost every holiday family gathering. However, you were nothing more than his best girl friend. Which to him was probably the highest status one could ever get.
Despite Jack's busy schedule and the demands of his career, you just always remained a constant presence in his life, providing stability and comfort. Whether it was cheering him on from the stands at games or simply being there to listen after a tough loss, you were always there when he needed you most.
You even saw every girl who tried their luck with him, and all of them failed to stick around. Though you weren’t really sure why that was always the case. To you Jack was a good guy, busy sure, but good overall and anyone would be lucky to be with him. However, you could also understand that often his demanding lifestyle simply became too much for anyone to handle. And after every time he showed up at your place, you were the support he needed through every breakup.
And Jack cherished your friendship immensely. With you, he could be himself without any pretence, knowing that you'd accept him exactly as he was. He could put on a facade and a guard for the rest of the world, but with you, he knew it was of no use. You always saw right through him, for better or for worse.
So, when Jack invited you to join him at the Devils’ team event, it wasn't a surprise to anyone. Spending such time together had become second nature to you both, a cherished ritual that brought comfort and joy. You'd even spent so much time with his teammates that a lot of them had grown to be your close friends as well. They were almost like the protective brothers you'd never had.
And you, of course, accepted his invitation without hesitation. So, as you got ready for the event together, you felt a sense of excitement in the air, anticipating a night filled with laughter, camaraderie, and maybe even something more.
**
Jack stood in front of the mirror, his face displaying frustration as he attempted to knot his tie once again. Though it was something he'd often do before a match, tonight it just didn’t seem to work out for him. The smooth fabric slipped through his fingers, refusing to cooperate despite his repeated attempts. But then, with a soft sigh, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the doorway, a knowing smile adorning your face.
"Struggling there?" you teased, slowly moving closer to him.
Turning to you, Jack looked relieved. "Actually, yes. Could you help me with my tie?" His voice held a touch of embarrassment, a contrast to his usual confidence on the ice, which made you chuckle softly.
"Of course," you replied, closing the gap between you and reaching for the silk tie. Your fingers skilfully worked the fabric into a perfect knot in no time. And as you adjusted it, your eyes met his in the mirror, and there was an unexpected shift between you, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air.
Then once Jack had sorted his tie, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the elegant lines of your evening dress, and he simply couldn't look away, struck by how stunning you appeared.
"Wow, you look amazing, y/n/n," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.
A blush crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, a soft smile forming in response. But before you could form a reply, though, you remembered the zipper on your dress.
"Actually, I could use your help too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. Turning slightly, you presented your back to him, feeling a tiny surge of nerves at the intimacy of the request.
And without hesitation, Jack moved closer, his presence sending a wave of anticipation through you. His hands brushed lightly against your skin as he reached for the zipper, the gentle touch surprisingly sparking some kind of awareness between you.
As his fingers softly traced your back, you felt an unfamiliar desire stirring within you, drawing you both a little closer together. And unintentionally, you leaned in a little closer to him, prompting him to gently rest his palms on your waist, as for a brief moment, time stood still, and you admired each other in the mirror.
It was a moment of soft intimacy hanging in the air, and you couldn’t deny that thoughts were starting to form in your mind. Thoughts that had been there before, yet you always just shook them off, as you didn’t believe they’d mean anything - Was there truly nothing more between you and Jack, or had you been fooling yourselves this whole time?
However, with the evening's urgency weighing on both of you, the passing seconds reminded you of the time slipping away. And with a small sigh, Jack reluctantly pulled away, his hands lingering for a moment longer before he finally zipped up your dress.
"We should probably head out," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.
And you nodded in agreement, carefully stepping away from him. Yet, despite the pressing schedule, the electric tension between you remained, silently hinting at what perhaps could be.
**
As the night progressed, Jack found himself unable to shake the growing feelings in his heart. And if anything, they only seemed to deepen with each passing moment, fuelled by seeing you effortlessly mingling with the other guests at the event.
"She's looking good, huh?" Luke's voice suddenly snapped Jack out of his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.
"Yeah, she really does..." he replied softly, his gaze still fixed on you from across the room, drawn in by the warmth of your smile.
And Luke couldn’t suppress his amusement and grinned knowingly, nudging Jack with a playful elbow. "So, are you going to make a move or what?"
"What do you mean?" Jack pretended innocence, though his eyes revealed the truth of his emotions.
And Luke had to roll his eyes, not buying Jack's act. "Come on, man, you're practically drooling over her right now."
"I'm not drooling... I'm just admiring how great my best friend looks..." Jack tried to defend himself, but he knew it was futile.
"Sure, sure, but we both know that you're totally checking her out!" Luke laughed, finding the situation more than amusing.
For months, if not years, Luke had had a bet with Quinn about when you and Jack would finally admit your feelings for each other. And not just as best friends. It was obvious to everyone how both of you always tried to act calm and nonchalant, however, there were often hints of something lingering in the back of your minds. Yet, none of you took the step to admit it.
And amidst the brotherly banter, Nico suddenly interrupted with a grin at the sight of their exchange. "What's going on? Who's checking out who?"
"Oh, just Jack ogling y/n," Luke teased, earning a chuckle from Nico.
"I'm not... ogling her!" Jack protested, though the teasing only fuelled his growing attraction.
"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you were. I mean, she looks really hot tonight," Nico chimed in with a mischievous grin. "I mean, if you don't make a move on her, someone else might."
And those words seemed to hit Jack like a splash of cold water, stirring a hint of jealousy in his gut at the thought of someone else showing interest in you. Especially a teammate of his. It was as if it was the push he needed to finally gather the courage to act on his true feelings.
So, as the event neared its end, Jack started to feel a little nervous about speaking his mind, which wasn’t usual for him. But as he prepared to bid farewell, determination surged within him. He simply couldn't let the night pass without expressing his feelings, without taking a chance on what could be.
Standing by the exit of the venue, Jack took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He then reached out, gently taking your hand in his, sending a jolt of electricity through you with his touch.
"Y/n, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice trembling slightly with nerves. "Tonight... tonight was different for me.”
“Jack, what do you mean?” you flashed him a crooked smile, slightly unsure what he was trying to say.
“I mean, I think… I think I realised that I have feelings for you, more than just friendship."
His words hung in the air, the weight of them palpable. And as you looked at him, your heart was beating faster than you’d ever experienced. You had to swallow hard as you processed his confession. But then he continued.
"I know this might come as a surprise, and I completely understand if you don't feel the same way," he added with a crooked smile, his gaze searching yours for any hint of a response. "But I couldn't let tonight end without at least trying to tell you how I fe-"
Interrupting him with a surge of confidence, you reached up and tenderly held his face in your hands, pulling him into a gentle kiss. And in that moment, as your lips were connected, Jack felt a rush of emotion engulf him, a sense of completeness and contentment unlike anything he had ever known.
There was a comfortable warmth spreading through him as his mind processed your actions, and though almost completely frozen, he still managed to respond with his hands finding your hips.
And as you slowly parted from the kiss, his heart couldn’t stop racing with a mix of excitement and relief. He looked into your eyes, trying his best to read your thoughts.
"Y/n, I... I," he started, uncertainty evident in his voice.
But you simply smiled softly, your fingers tracing his cheek. "Jack, I've been feeling the same way," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't know how to say it."
Relief flooded through Jack, his tension easing as he released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Really?" he asked, disbelief tinting his voice.
You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yes, really."
And suddenly, it was like a giant wave of happiness washed over Jack, filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in ages. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.
"Shit, then I’m really happy I told you," he murmured into your hair, his voice brimming with gratitude.
"Me too," you replied with a light chuckle, planting a kiss on his chest. "I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I just didn’t want to risk… you know, our friendship in case you didn’t feel the same."
“Yeah… I guess I’ve just sort of realised… sorry it took so long,” he added with a sweet chuckle.
“Oh, you know, better late than never.”
And wrapped in each other's embrace, Jack knew this was where you belonged. Looking into your eyes, he vowed to do whatever it took to make you happy, to build a future together filled with love and laughter.
Meanwhile, a few feet away, Luke and Nico observed the sweet interaction between the two of you. And with a heartfelt chuckle, Luke turned to Nico with a smug expression.
“Guess I can call Quinn and tell him I won the bet then.”
“What was the bet on?” Nico inquired with a chuckle.
“Oh, just that he said they wouldn’t admit anything before one of them was in a serious relationship,” Luke explained. “But I didn’t think they’d ever get that far.”
“And clearly, you were right,” the captain let out a deep laugh.
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