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#no doubt about it i am ready to get hurt again
gilbirda · 3 days
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I'm just a simple guard, man
Part 6 of my Danny is an Arkham Security Guard AU (og tumblr post)
[Read on AO3] [Read on FF.net]
<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part
There was silence and tension as they watched Batman go through the motions, tying up the unmoving but awake Joker and moving him to somewhere closer to the entrance. Joker was surprisingly responsive and lucid, just mellowed and obedient. Somehow it made it better — if he was a vegetable Jason knew Batman wouldn’t let that go until Danny undid what he had done.
Danny.
The Ghost King.
Jason didn’t know exactly what that meant. Heck, until today he didn’t know that ghosts were kind of a thing. Mythical creatures, he could buy. Apparitions, imprints of conscience that were unavenged — that he could buy too. But a Ghost King implied an organized society with status and a legal organization. A power structure.
“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that.”
He turned towards the doctor well aware his face showed every emotion.
“The fuck?”
“Did that really happen?” Duke was trying to keep calm, but his eyes were wide open and his hands slightly trembling.
“Yeah?” She lifted an eyebrow.
“But—”
“How the heck—”
“ — how did he do that —”
“ — did he set him on fire!”
“ — and is he even human?”
“Children,” Alfred stood from his seat, positioning himself between the brothers and their guest. “Let her breathe.”
“It’s okay, Mr. — uh…” She blushed as she realized she never asked for his name.
“Alfred,” the butler smiled, “Alfred Pennyworth.”
“Mr. Pennyworth,” she nodded politely. “I’m fine. I am aware that after that… theatrical spectacle, explanations are needed.”
“Indeed.” Batman cut in the conversation. “Proper explanations are in order. After I deliver the Joker to Arkham.”
“You can’t be serious!” Did the old man go crazy? Back to that place?
Jazz frowned, seemingly sharing his thoughts. She leaned closer to the microphone and spoke in a controlled voice. “Where are you delivering him? In the hospital.”
Bruce took way too long to answer, so Tim did it for him. “Through the front door?”
Jazz didn’t find it funny. “Wait for me.”
“What?”
“I said, wait for me.” Jazz reached for her discarded jacket, eyeing the door to the elevator back to the manor. “Joker is my patient and I need to be there.”
“What for?”
She turned to look at Jason. “He doesn’t deserve to be left at the mercy of some of the people in the Asylum. They could—”
“He can rot for all I care.”
The vigilante walked up to her, getting in her way and using his height and build to scare her into submission. Jazz held his gaze, defiant, muscles tense and ready to throw down if needed.
“You don’t know that place like I do.”
Jason huffed. “Whatever the inmates want to do to him, he deserves it.”
“I wasn’t talking about the inmates.” Her teal eyes steeled with fury. “Arkham has a history of staff abusing their authority.”
Duke glanced at Alfred, unsure what to make of that statement. He quietly stood up, getting ready to intervene in case Jason decided to get violent; but Alfred held him back with a gloved hand on his shoulder.
“Again, he deserves it.”
Tired of craning her neck to look up at him, Jazz stepped back. “He deserves the judgment of the people he’d hurt in the past — something my brother and I can promise you will happen.” Given what they saw in the camera feeds, nobody doubted the siblings could ensure it. “But I’m not going to tolerate that my patient spends his last years alive being unnecessarily abused.”
“I told you—”
“What do you think,” she interrupted Jason, her gaze cold and her body tense, “will happen if someone dies full of rage? If in their last moments they wish they could enact vengeance on those that harmed them?” She narrowed her eyes, knowing her words were hitting something in him. “What do you think will happen to the Joker’s soul if he’s abused and tortured at Arkham, and probably killed, after he crosses the Veil?”
“I—”
“A huge pain in the ass, it’s what will happen.”
The tense silence could be cut with a knife. Duke couldn’t understand how Jazz not only managed to stare down the six foot something tank that Jason was, but she also commanded the attention and respect. He was a newcomer to the place and he had done more than enough crazy stuff during his time in a gang; but he still struggled with openly challenging Jason and Cass. And Tim, but that was when the vigilante fell into his weird mumbling-in-the-dark episodes.
“I’m taking you there.”
He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the garage section of the cave. Jazz yanked her arm free and stopped to cross her arms.
“I can walk on my own.”
Jason bristled, opened his mouth to continue their fight, but apparently that was when Alfred had enough.
“If you want to get there in time,” his voice was neutral, controlled, and his face wore his signature arched eyebrow, “I'd recommend leaving right now.”
His tone was final.
Jazz and Jason looked at each other, frozen under the certified Alfred glare. They nodded and walked quickly towards where Jason’s signature red bike was parked.
***
Arkham Asylum was a mess when the duo arrived — police cars flooded the entrance, and the Batmobile stood out like a sore thumb in the midst of all the red and blue lights flashing around.
Jazz cursed under her breath. She would have preferred to not turn the situation into a circus.
They managed to walk through the sea of cops and civilians looking in the compound from the metal gates. Funny enough, the few guards blocking the way didn’t move to stop them once both glared at them at the same time.
Jazz made a beeline at the Director chatting animatedly with Batman. Black Bat was standing a bit back with Red Robin, probably discussing what just happened with Danny, but the Arkham doctor didn’t care about them.
“I demand I see my patient.” Jazz didn’t beat around the bush.
The Director blinked and slowly looked away from Batman, as if he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to interrupt this moment. “Miss Fenton—”
“Doctor.” She corrected him.
The man cleared his throat, throwing a nervous glance at the silent Dark Knight.
“Doctor Fenton,” the word was spit like it was a curse, “your shift doesn’t start until eight.”
“But the Joker is my patient and I know he’s in there.” She gestured at the looming Asylum with her hand. “After such a traumatic event I need to see him.”
Someone coughed a laugh behind the Director. At least the man had the decency of hiding a smile.
“The Joker is not going anywhere, Miss— Doctor.” He added when she glared at him. “You can schedule a session tomorrow. That is, if your patient is up for conversation.” With that, the man deemed their conversation over and turned back to Batman. “Once again, thank you so much, Batman. I’m not going to ask how you did it this time, but we will certainly appreciate the results.”
Jason was as happy as everyone else that Joker wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but the way this bastard was treating Jasmine was outright criminal. He squared up for a fight and tried to step forward, but a cold hand on his forearm stopped him. Jazz moved her eyebrows up and her eyes went over his body before she looked back towards the police. Several new vehicles joined the party — all the Gotham news channels were here to record the event.
And he wasn’t wearing his suit. Right.
He nodded and remained where he was, but made a gesture towards where the Director was waxing poetry about how good Batman was for their city and how much the city owed him.
Do you want me to beat him up for you? He wanted to ask.
Jazz chuckled, hiding her smile behind her hand. She shook her head and patted his arm a few times.
“Thanks,” she whispered, “but not today.”
He didn’t know how serious she was. This was the same person who pulled a gun at Red Hood and five seconds later forced him into a therapy session. The same lunatic that was excited about having the whole bat flock in her apartment so she could question them.
For the first time since the alarm sounded about Joker’s escape, Jason let himself relax a little bit. Jazz was crazy enough to take on Arkham’s finest and leave victorious.
“Director Kallwick,” her voice was pure steel, “I’m afraid it’s imperative I see my patient after such a traumatic—”
“I think there’s something you are not understanding, Miss Fenton.”
“And what is it?” She crossed her arms.
The Director raised an eyebrow, now fully facing her. It didn’t escape Jason how the man squared his shoulders to look bigger and overpower Jazz. He had seen that behavior way too many times, in many different situations — and he didn’t like it when men like the Director used it against people that couldn't fight back, specially women.
He glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge how much the old man would flip if he intervened anyway. He trusted Jazz, but he really didn’t like the Director right now.
“I’m positive that after today’s… development,” he smiled, “things at Arkham will definitely change. For the best, of course.” He raised an eyebrow. “Starting with streamlining our staff and making sure we count on experienced doctors to treat the patients that really need it.”
Was he implying…?
Jazz hummed, regarding the man with as much contempt as she allowed herself to show. “I know you don’t like me, Mr. Kallwick. You never did. I know you hired me because you needed cannon fodder to sacrifice and keep the Joker entertained.” She smiled. “I’m young, but I’m not stupid. And I know men like you — weak, scared, and cowardly.”
“Hey there young—”
“I know you’d rather let your staff die than develop better and healthier outlets for patient’s destructive tendencies.” She lifted a hand and walked closer, poking the man’s chest. “I know that you look the other way when guards and doctors mentally and physically abuse inmates because you actually think they deserve it.” She poked him again.
“I don’t—” He went to grab her hand.
She moved away from him so quickly and so smoothly that it looked like a dance step.
She smiled. It wasn’t nice. “And I know all about what you’ve been doing with the funds and donations.”
Even in the middle of the noise from the crowd at the gates, you could hear the man loudly swallow.
“I know about the embezzling and the bribes and the interesting filing mistakes and convenient registration mishaps, Mr. Kallwick.” Her eyes slowly turned greener. It was subtle, but you could see that her usual teal color suddenly looked greener than blue. A trick of the lights, you could think, but the bats knew better. “I know you don’t care how or why the Joker is unresponsive, but I do; and if you want me to stay in my lane I highly recommend you stay in yours.”
The man processed her words, the thoughts clear in his eyes. He was probably thinking how she could have found out, or who told her, or how was he going to silence her better.
Jason saw the switch to the later thought as clear as day.
Bruce saw it too.
Before the man said or did anything else, the tall and quiet shadow of Batman placed himself behind Jazz, one hand on her shoulder as an obvious sign of his support. The other two bats placed themselves on the sides of the Arkham doctor, arms crossed, looking down at the man who was realizing too late the mistake he made.
***
“Are you still mad?”
“Hm.”
“You sound like the old man.”
Jazz glared at him, violently stabbing her ice cream cup and breaking her plastic spoon.
“You may need to deal with those anger issues. Have you thought about going to therapy?” He said with a bright smile.
She stood up, not caring about attracting attention. Who was going to pay attention to them, Jason didn’t know. It was way early in the morning — or late at night, it depends on how you see it — and Jazz had demanded they go to the closest ice cream place that was open.
Luckily he knew a place, because of course only in Gotham someone would be crazy enough to have an ice cream shop open at this hour.
“Some vigilantes, and some rogues, really like ice cream. It is an untapped market.” The man running the place said when asked, shrugging like it was obvious.
Jazz sat back down, now with a new spoon, and continued eating her sweet monstrosity of layered chocolate and dulce de leche.
“If you are this mad I highly recommend you take it with Bruce. I’m sure he will be very understanding and accept your feedback.”
She kicked him in the shins, rolling her eyes at his sarcasm.
“Whatever you say, mister Daddy Issues.”
It was his turn to kick her, but she was expecting the movement and moved away before he made contact. She smirked, taking another bite of her ice cream with a smug smile on her face.
God, he hated older siblings and their knowing smiles.
He prepared to kick her again..
“Don’t even try,” a new voice said, the person taking the empty chair on their little table. “Jazz is like a ninja when she really wants to.”
Jason wanted to differ and explain he had trained with literal ninjas, but the speed at which she whipped a gun on him not that long ago came to his mind. Was it a liminal thing? Or a Jasmine thing? Maybe a Fenton thing?
“Hey.”
“Hey back at you.” Danny sighed, taking Jazz’s ice cream cup and biting directly from the top layer. “That bad, huh?”
Jason bit his simple chocolate cone, watching the siblings talk.
“She’s mad because B scary dog privileged his way into making the Arkham Director submit and it undermined Jazz’s authority. She did a neat speech and everything.” He shook his head. “All wasted.”
She huffed and stole her ice cream back. “I didn’t need his support.”
“I know you don’t.” Danny glanced at Jason. “But it’s better if you have Batman’s backup, yes?”
Jazz ignored him.
Jason took the chance to look at Danny, trying to find anything that was different about the young man. He still had the scene back with Joker burned in his mind.
King of the Ghosts.
He would have never guessed, given the scrawny and sleep deprived raccoon of a man sitting next to him. He was still wearing the same shirt and under the fluorescent lights of the ice cream shop, it was easier to see the scars on his arms and hands — and the ones peeking from under his collar.
“Spit it out.”
“Huh?”
Danny rolled his eyes. “You have questions. Ask.”
“I don’t—” He tried to deny it, but thought better about it. Jason bit his ice cream and cleared his throat. “I want to ask about —”
“Of course you want to ask about what happened.”
A soft thump! came from under the table, and given Danny’s glare at Jazz then she probably kicked him for the sass.
“What do you want to know?”
“Why are you being so forthcoming?”
“I’m feeling charitable today.” Another kick from under the table. “Ok, ok! No need for violence.” He sighed. “Jazz’s right. This is not my territory. If we want to stay, we have to play nice with you guys.”
The way he said it, and the way he made a face when he said it, told Jason that Danny was really struggling with trusting the bats with the information. Trust issues he could understand — one wasn’t in their line of work without being betrayed or hurt enough to warrant these issues.
No. It was something deeper.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
There were many questions burning in his mind and he didn’t know how long they had. “Why… Gotham? Why Arkham? Why a guard?”
“You just wasted your time man. You already know the answer for that.” He pointed at his sister, who nodded in agreement. “I followed her.”
“And I came here because I was interested in the rogues.” She added, licking her spoon clean.
Jason shook his head. “I meant — why is the King of the Ghosts… just… here?” He lowered his voice, glancing at the ice cream man. The man was half asleep on the counter and clearly not listening. “Don’t you have better things to do?”
Danny responded with a dry laugh. “I have no interest in being the king of anything.”
“But?”
He looked away, suddenly very uncomfortable.
Jason glanced at Jazz, but she was glaring at the table.
“What happened?” He poked the siblings, trying to be soft. It was obviously a touchy subject, and whatever happened was painful enough that they’ve been avoiding any mention of their past before Gotham like the plague.
“It was… It happened a few years ago. I defeated the previous Ghost King, but nothing happened for a while. I thought… I thought things had calmed down since ghosts stopped attacking my town so often. And then, after I graduated highschool, the Observants started harassing me about taking the throne.”
“Did they hurt you?” Jason didn’t know what these “Observants” were, but he could guess from context.
Danny shook his head, stealing Jazz’s ice cream again. “They were fucking annoying, but they couldn’t touch me. As the Prince, I was technically their superior and untouchable.” He bit the cold treat and chewed. Somehow Jason wasn’t surprised Danny never got a brain freeze. “It was a few more years of avoiding them and trying to keep peace in town, as well as trying to get to know the Infinite Realms.” He chuckled again. “I even considered, for a moment, that being King wasn’t even that bad.
“It was a pretty normal day when it happened. I went to the mall with my friends. Sam, she — She had a fight with her parents and went there to cool down and cheer her up. The ghosts came first,” he pushed the ice cream back to his sister, and avoided Jason’s eyes, “but nothing was out of the ordinary. We fought. I defeated them. More and more kept coming, faster than I — than we could contain them.”
“I was away at college, but I later learned that it was a massive all out attack on just Danny.” Jazz placed a hand on Danny’s. “It was a coup attempt.”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t know that so many people were against me being King, and all that time they were planning the attack, and if I just paid a little more attention… If I wasn’t so—”
Another kick under the table. Danny cleared his throat and tried again.
“The GIW came as well. Things went from bad to worse, and by the end of the day it was an all out war between us, the ghosts doing a coup and the GIW. With our parents at the head of the attack.”
Jason frowned. “But you guys knew they worked with the GIW.”
Jazz gave him a warning look. “We knew they collaborated and consulted for them. We knew about the patent weapons.”
“But we didn’t know that they’d lead an attack on me.”
Danny did a brief pause to breathe, and stole more ice cream from his sister. She just pushed the cup towards him, apparently done with the treat.
Jason followed where the siblings were going. “They knew you’d be at the mall. That… That Phantom would be at the mall.” Danny looked up, his tired eyes confirming his thoughts. “They knew.”
It wasn’t a question.
Jazz nodded anyway. “We don’t know how long they did, but the truth is they knew about Danny. And went for him anyway.”
Minutes ticked by. Jason and Danny made quick work of their ice creams, lost in thought. Jazz checked her phone, frowned, and typed a few messages before putting it away.
“People died.”
Jason blinked at the non sequitur. Danny swallowed the last of the ice cream and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“Neighbors, friends, people I knew. That day. They were fine and then they were dead.”
Guilt. It was clear as day.
“Is not your—”
“Don’t.” He cut him off. “Please.”
Jason nodded and decided to move on. “So you won the fight?”
“Barely. The ghosts were either captured by the GIW or retreated when they became outnumbered. Tucker and Sam managed to mess up with the idiots in white’s machines and weapons long enough for us to retreat. But we knew that wasn’t the end of it.
“We packed what we could and I hid at Sam’s, with the excuse that I would help her while she recovered — she broke her arm at the fight. We were a hundred percent sure if… if Jack and Maddie actually knew I was Phantom or not, but just in case.”
“I stayed. They didn’t target me so we were positive they didn’t know about me being liminal, so I stayed home.”
The vigilante frowned at Jazz. “What for?”
“Someone had to monitor them to see what they knew exactly. I also hid away any weapon they could potentially use against Danny.” She shrugged. “Not that it actually helped, because neither came back home in the weeks after the incident.”
“They were at the GIW base.” Danny crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat. The young man looked tired. “Because of course there was work to do with the captured ghosts.”
Jason hummed. “So they’ve been working on experimentation since then?”
Jazz shook her head. “We were telling the truth when we said they weren’t involved in that, at least not by the time we left Amity Park. Back then they were more involved in investigation on ghost containment and weapons research.”
He nodded, and turned back to Danny. “And the coup?”
The young man cursed under his breath. “Dealt with them.”
Jason waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. He cleared his throat and tried again. “What—”
“Listen, man.” He slapped the table and stood up. “That doesn’t matter. They don’t matter. I dealt with it. I accepted the damn crown and then told everybody to fuck off. And they have done that so far.” He breathed in, breathed out. “I’m nobody’s king, I’m just a simple guard now, okay? Nothing more, nothing less.”
With that, Danny walked away and left Jazz and Jason simmer in the tense silence. He looked at her, trying to gauge if he had said the wrong thing, but Jazz appeared apologetic.
“Before you ask — I don’t know either. Nobody does. He just… after we took down the GIW base, he took the captured ghosts back to the Realms. He came back two days later, hurt and barely coherent, and never spoke of what happened there. To anybody.” Not even me, the hurt statement was implied. “He was… changed. He didn’t say what happened but from what we could piece together it was bad, very bad.”
A myriad of possibilities crossed Jason’s mind. How bad is “very bad”? How much did Danny stir things up at the Realms that he had remained unbothered ever since? He tried to map the scars that he saw, and grimaced at the idea of two straight days of fighting after doing a raid to the GIW base.
Danny was done. With being a hero. With fighting. With trying to do the right thing.
What was even the “right thing” here? Going back to being the King of a dimension that doesn’t want him and he doesn’t want in return? Give it up, and risk someone worse taking control of so much power? Destroying the GIW? Going after their own parents?
He thought about the Joker. He asked Jazz when she was back from checking on the clown, and she willingly shared some details about his state. Jason never felt sorry for the fucker, but gained a new appreciation for Danny and his abilities.
The power to take someone’s soul and seal it inside their bodies — what else could he do? What other otherworldly and potentially devastating powers did he have at his disposal?
What else was he choosing not to face? What else was he running away from?
He stood up and followed Danny outside, finding him standing in the cold morning rain of Gotham. It wasn’t pouring, but it was easy to get soaking wet if you underestimated it.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I wasn’t going to ask.”
Both ignored the door when Jazz quietly followed them out of the ice cream shop.
“Good.” The younger man looked up at the gray sky, maybe looking for the sun. Water droplets fell down his face, and he welcomed them with a relieved, albeit tiny, smile. “Because I don’t have anything else to say.”
Jason rolled his eyes. What a drama queen.
He glanced at Jazz, who was shaking her head. “Whatever you say, edgelord.”
She pulled Danny to her chest for a hug, which he only protested with a tiny grumble. Jason chuckled before he was pulled in too by a surprisingly strong grip.
“If I have to suffer sisterly hugs then so do you.”
Jazz giggled but welcomed the addition to her arms, not caring that she could barely hold both of them and her arms fell short. She squeezed them harder towards her chest, humming in delight.
Great, she was a hugger. Jason really didn’t need another Grayson in his life.
<< Prequel - Clown around and find out | First Part
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BACK TO DANNY PHANTOM ARCHIVE
Just a normal link in case you liked this and want to support me :)
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darkandstormyart · 2 months
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"And you thought I was gonna be the problem?"
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couples who patch wounds together stay together
until they don't haha
114 notes · View notes
bastardpacs · 1 year
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Sami vs Roman, let’s go!!!!!
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 08:25 P.M 」
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tw: pregnancy. overall, just some domestic dad-to-be gojo trying to show how much he loves you even with how your body changes and all <3 based on a request!
a part of gojo's love entries
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don’t think that satoru hasn’t noticed how you linger in front of the mirror these days, touching your body all over—particularly your baby bump. seeing your face twist into a sad frown dampens his spirits too.
on the other hand, you understand that it’s a natural process, but you have never gained this much weight before, and despite already having your husband reassure you before, you still feel somewhat meh about yourself.
“how’s my favorite girl and little rascal doing today?” he flopped down on the bed beside you as soon as he returned from school, caressing your belly. “ready to come out yet?”
you throw him an unamused look. “no, satoru. and don’t make it sound so effortless. i’m the one pushing him out.”
“ahh, but i can’t wait though~”
his palpable excitement actually made you smile as you placed your hand over his. but then your smile fell a bit and he was quick to notice it.
“what’s on your mind?” he asked then. “talk to me, hmm?”
“no… it’s nothing.” you looked away, a bit ashamed. if satoru says he’s not bothered by your figure, you really shouldn’t be thinking about this any longer. you didn't want to make him worry… but it really wasn't easy to let it go.
“hmm, my baby mama can’t be sad,” your husband pouted, and suddenly he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “she’s the cutest when she smiles.”
you looked up to him, feeling the security in his arms and yet still a hint of uncertainty in your voice. “am i just cute… to you?”
you wanted to be beautiful too. like how he used to sing you praises during your school days.
satoru grinned. and it’s the kind of toothy grin that makes your heart soar.
“no. you’re also pretty.” he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “and you’re smart, kind, nags a lot, gets pouty easily… and you're sweet like a dango, makes me want to gobble you up.”
“so now i’m a dango?” you nestled your head against his broad chest, feeling your face start to heat up, and a smile beginning to curve your lips. stupid satoru. he said all of them so easily it was making you giddy and felt silly for doubting him at all.
“just because our baby is going to be a mochi. and look, you’re so close to carrying him to full-term,” he rubbed your swollen tummy again, this time with a more sincere smile. “i love you the most for it.”
your eyes took a shine, processing his words, and you could’ve sworn that right now, nothing could’ve shaken your feelings for your silly husband.
suddenly your baby kicked you hard as if to reprimand you too for your insecurities, and you winced.
“hurts?” satoru questioned, slightly concerned when you nodded. “wait i’ll tell him off.”
he cleared his throat and began making circular motions on your abdomen, as if to summon him.
“yo, brat. you can’t kick your mama like that too often these days. you’re accumulating karma and she counts it. when you come out, she’ll forbid you from eating our favorite mochis and—”
“satoru!!”
and then the two of you just burst into giggles, and once again, you utterly and thoroughly fell in love with him. for always making you feel safe... and loved.
“you know, satoru...” this time it was you who hugged him, breathing in his scent for comfort. now you were totally worry-free, the softest of smile on your face. “i’m really grateful that... we found each other.”
at your heartfelt confession, satoru felt his chest tighten with warmth and his cheeks flush. he is so blushing and he tries covering it with a chuckle. and the words lingering at the tip of his tongue were—
“heh, aren’t you glad you married me?”
yeah... i’m so glad that it’s you too.
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rchtzr · 11 months
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i think i’m going to return to my roots and rewatch it chapter two
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joelsgreys · 6 months
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strawberry
Daddy Dom! Joel Miller x Sub! Female Reader
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summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what.
warnings/tags: 18+ only, MINORS DNI. (TW) daddy kink, lots of dd/lg lifestyle elements, reader is collared (day collar) age gap that is self indulgent, reader is mid to late 20’s and Joel is in his 50’s but tweak that to your imaginations if you like. SMUT; p in v sex, rough sex (that reader asks to try), spanking, possible overstimulation (if you squint??) Joel basically fucks reader too much and too hard. USE OF SAFE WORD. aftercare and lots of fluff, references to a pop culture film that i haven’t seen in forever but it’s fine. PLEASE BE MINDFUL OF TAGS AND WARNINGS. if this isn’t your thing, no worries just scroll on by.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION.
word count: 2.4k
a/n: this is totally self indulgent, all for me as someone who has dabbled in the lifestyle before. if this is not your thing, no problem at all but kindly keep any negative comments to yourself. huge shoutout to the lovely @swiftispunk for inspiring this with the snippets of her own upcoming series that i am oh so excited for, darling han thank you for not only inspiring this, but for listening to me talk about it and encouraging it! and also to sweet mya @cavillscurls because truth be told her own fic brought back so many memories of a time in my life where i was genuinely so happy, in love, and felt safe with a partner. okay, i am gonna run away to the gym now to listen to 1989 tv (again) and pretend posting this is not nerve wracking as hell.
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He’s fucked you plenty of times before.
But never like this. No, never, ever like this.
He’s relentless.
His thrusts are coming quicker, sloppier, harsher.
It doesn’t hurt, but it’s intense. Too intense.
Joel Miller is truly testing your limits tonight.
No, he was pushing you past your limits.
Because that’s what you’d asked him to do.
“Alright, sweet girl. This is the last time I’m gonna ask you before we get started. Are you absolutely, one hundred—no, one thousand percent sure that you wanna try this out tonight?” he had asked you beforehand, skimming the strap of your light pink, lace lingerie with his index finger, his feathery soft touch sending a plesant little chill down the length of your spinal column. Of all the sets you owned, it had to be Joel’s absolute favorite. Normally, it was him who would pick out what you would wear, but tonight he’d decided to let you choose for yourself and oh, you did not disappoint. He fucking adored you in the color pink; loved how sickeningly sweet, precious, and innocent you appeared in the hue as you did the filthiest things to him, with him. When you nodded eagerly in reply to his question, a sigh fell from his lips, the doubt written all over his face as he remarked, “I really don’t think you’re ready. I think we should wait just a little a while longer.”
“I’m ready,” you’d insisted, stubbornly. “I promise. I wouldn’t be asking for it if I thought I wasn’t. But I am, I promise, promise, promise I am.”
“Daddy knows what’s best for you, sweetheart—”
Fingers curled around his bicep, you’d batted your eyelashes, giving him those eyes that brought him down to his knees for you a lot more often than he cared to admit, those eyes that made Joel feel like he was learning his role all over again, despite over two decades of experience under his belt. He used to pride himself for his ability to stand firm against pouting lips, fluttering lashes, and pleading gazes. And then you come along and suddenly it’s like he is in his thirties again and he’s navigating this kind of dynamic for the first time. Even after a year and a half with you, he’s still trying to figure out how to completely unwrap himself from your little finger.
“Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”
Christ, you made things so goddamn difficult.
“You really think you’re gonna be able to handle it? You think you’re gonna be able to handle me when I get real rough with you, baby? Hm?”
Without missing a beat, you replied, “Yes, Daddy. I can handle it. I know I can.”
You had been so certain that you could.
Confident, even. So confident that when he began going over the rules and reminded you to use your safe word if you needed him to stop, you’d giggled and stated, “I’ve never needed to use it before and I don’t plan on using it tonight.”
Oh, how very wrong you had been about it all.
You’d overestimated yourself, and underestimated Joel. Severely.
His hips snap roughly into yours without an ounce of mercy, over and over, again and again. Beads of perspiration start trailing their way down the sides of his face, the tip of his nose. His chest is flushed, red, and also slicked with a thin sheen of sweat.
You’ve already shattered, unraveled, come undone all over his cock several times—every time with his granted permission, of course. Because you knew better than to come without Daddy’s permission.
Your cunt is swollen, sensitive, too sensitive and at a point where it could start aching if he doesn’t let up soon. However, it seems like Joel’s only getting rougher and rougher as he chases another release.
“Joel—Daddy,” you manage to correct yourself at the very last second through a slew of frantic little gasps for air. “Daddy, please! Daddy please—”
His large hand tightens around both of your wrists pinned to the mattress above your head. Surely he must think you’re begging him for more, when the reality is you’re about to start begging him to stop because it’s just too much and you can’t handle it; but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to stop, the part of you that doesn’t want to disappoint the man who means the whole, entire world to you.
The man you belonged to, the man you loved.
Even through the haze, you try telling yourself that it’s all mind over matter, mind over matter, mind—
“Stop,” you whine, squirming underneath him. “I—can’t take it anymore, Daddy, I can’t take it—!”
Releasing your wrists, Joel pulls himself out of you and you breathe out in relief, until he flips you over onto your stomach without warning. You let out an audibly loud gasp when his hands reach down and take your hips, pulling them up off his bed, putting you on your hands and knees. He brings down one of his hands on your ass in a stinging slap. “That is just too bad, ‘cause Daddy ain’t done with you yet, darlin’ girl. Not even close to bein’ done with you.” Wrapping his other hand around his base, he grins to himself as he glides the head of his cock up and down your slick folds. When it grazes your clit, you jerk forward, away from him, and he tuts, bringing you back to him, his fingers digging into the pillow soft flesh of your hips. “Oh no baby, you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
“But Daddy, I just can’t—”
You’re cut off by your own cry when you feel Joel’s length stretching your walls all over again. It’s just too much.
And you really, really can’t.
He leans over you and presses his lips to your ear. “You asked for this, didn’tcha? Asked to be fucked like a big girl, huh?” He bucks forward into you, eliciting another strangled cry followed by a string of pathetic whimpers. Bringing his palm down in a second strike, he demands, “Answer me when I’m takin’ to you. You wanted this, said that you could handle Daddy bein’ rough with you, ain’t that right now?”
“Strawberry.” You say the word so quietly, you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.
Joel spanks you for a third time, in the exact same spot—so hard, there was simply no way you would wake up without a mark in the morning. “I need’ya to speak up. You’re such a big girl after all—”
“Strawberry!” You grasp fistfuls of bedsheets and the signal for it all to end tears itself from the back of your throat. “Strawberry, Joel! Strawberry!”
It’s only a millisecond that he freezes, if that.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Joel curses under his breath, pulling out of you. The bed shifts as he climbs off of it and scrambles to pull on his sweatpants before he’s at your side—you’re still on your hands and knees, an unmistakable look of panic on your face. He puts a gentle hand on your back. “Baby, are you alright?”
Your heart is pounding, your breathing labored but you manage a small, tight nod of your head. “I-I’m fine. I just—” Stopping, you grip the sheets tighter, warm tears brimming your eyes. Shame over what you’ve just done is already creeping in and sinking into your bones.
“Are you hurt, sweetheart? Did I hurt you?”
Joel’s voice is calm, but you can hear the concern that laces his tone.
“No.” Your own voice is small. “No. You didn’t hurt me.”
“Is it alright if I move you?” he asks. When you nod your head, he reaches out for you and helps you to sit on the side of the bed. Dropping to his knees in front of you, he takes your hands and his and feels his stomach sink when he realizes they’re ice cold; he begins rubbing them between his own to warm them up. “Baby if I hurt you, you need to tell m—”
“I promise, you didn’t hurt me,” you reassure him, swallowing the thickness rising in the back of your throat. You clock the skepticism in his dark brown eyes and a tear slips out, rolls down your face, and splatters onto your bare thigh. “I’m not lying, Joel. I swear.” Tugging one of your hands out of his, you reach up and instinctively clasp it around the blue sapphire pendant hanging from the delicate, gold chain around your neck—he’d presented you with his birthstone last year, not only as a symbol of his ownership of you, but also as a beautiful reminder of your commitment to one another. “You believe me, don’t you? You believe I’m telling the truth?”
Joel’s expression softens. “‘Course I do, baby.” He cups the side of your face gently, brushing away a second teardrop with his thumb. “But I’d really like to know what happened so I can figure out how to best help, okay? Can you tell me what happened?”
Embarrassed, you try turning your head away, but he holds your cheek in his hand, gentle but firm.
“S’okay. You can talk to me,” he encourages softly, his gaze meeting yours once again. “Tell me.”
“It was just too much,” you mumble, meekly. “And too intense.” Heat floods your face as you admit to him, “You were right. I just wasn’t—I wasn’t ready for that yet.”
In an effort to lighten your mood, Joel lightly gives your cheek a delicate pinch and chuckles.
“Daddy’s got that real annoyin’ habit of bein’ right ‘bout a lot of things, don’t he?”
“I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers. “I’m so sorry.”
His smile falters. “Sorry for what?”
“For using the safe word—”
Joel’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Y’know you ain’t supposed to apologize for needin’ to use your safe word, right? That ain’t how it works, darlin’.”
Dropping your necklace, you place your hand over his on your cheek. “But I feel bad,” you confess. “It makes me feel like—like I let you down, you know? And that’s the last thing I want to do. I just wanted to be really good for you.”
“Oh baby.” Joel lifts himself from the floor. He sits on the bed and pulls you onto his lap, brushing his lips against your temple. “You are such a good girl for me, sweetheart.”
“But I couldn’t take it,” you sniff. “I had to stop.”
“And that’s okay,” he assures you. He wraps you in his arms and gives your body a gentle squeeze. “It ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed ‘bout. You’re still really new to a lot of this stuff, y’know? S’why I told you I didn’t think you were ready.”
“I should’ve listened to you.”
He winks. “You should always listen to Daddy.”
You offer him a tiny, watery smile. “I know.”
“And say we try this again one day and it’s just not somethin’ you like or that makes you feel good—or maybe you never wanna try it again at all,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s okay too. You are still my good girl no matter what—my perfect girl. Always. You understand me?”
“Really? You promise?”
Joel holds up his pinky.
“Oh, you’re being really serious,” you tease him.
“Sure as hell am, darlin’.”
You lock your finger around his and he pulls you in for a sweet kiss.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur against his lips. You giggle again when he clears his throat and smacks your ass lightly, playfully. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, baby.” Joel pulls away and touches the tip of his nose to yours. “How’s ‘bout we get in the bath and get all cleaned up? Hm?”
“A bath?” You instantly perk up. “With bubbles?”
“With bubbles. And I’ll even let you throw in one of those smelly ball things you fuckin’ love so much.”
You swat at his chest. “Hey! My bath bombs smell really good, thank you very much!”
Joel doesn’t particularly like emerging from a bath smelling like a petunia, but for you, he’s more than happy to bathe in a sea of them, glitter and all.
You trace his collarbone with your index finger.
“Daddy? After our bath can we just cuddle in bed? Maybe watch a movie?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile sheepishly, adding, “Please?”
“‘Course. Pick any movie you want, sweetheart.”
“And can we have ice cream while we watch too?”
He pins you with a stern look. “Alright, now you’re just pushin’ it and takin’ advantage.”
You jut your lower lip. “Please, Daddy?”
There’s no arguing with that, not tonight.
Joel decides to let you have your way. “Alright.”
The two of you spend quite some time in the bath; normally a bath together ends with him inside you all over again, but tonight, all he’s doing is running a soapy wash cloth with your favorite shower gel—japanese cherry blossom—all over your body as he sits behind you, lips pressed against your ear. Joel washes you slowly, carefully, and all the while he’s whispering sweet, tender praise.
My good girl.
My perfect girl.
I’m s’proud of you.
I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.
After the bath, once you’re both dried and dressed in comfortable clothes—him in a clean pair of gray sweatpants and you in nothing but his t-shirt, Joel gives you the remote and instructs you to pick out a movie to watch.
“Make yourself real comfortable, baby,” he says to you, kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be back with that ice cream.”
You shoot him a hopeful glance. “Strawberry?”
“You tryin’ to be funny with me, darlin’?”
“No! That’s just my favorite flavor, silly.”
Joel grins to himself as he leaves the bedroom.
He knows that. Of course he knows that.
It’s why he always keeps a pint of it in his freezer.
You hop into bed and pull the blankets around you as your scan through the guide for a movie—you’d just decided on The Notebook when Joel appears again, a bowl and two spoons in his hands.
“You picked The Notebook again, didn’t you?” he asks without even looking at the flat screen that’s mounted on his wall over the fireplace.
“You said I could pick any movie I wanted.”
“Was just hopin’ you’d pick one we haven’t seen a thousand times,” he chuckled, sliding into his bed next to you. Joel places the bowl of strawberry ice cream in his lap and hands you a spoon. “C’mere, my sweet girl. Come closer.”
You snuggle up to him, and the two of you dig into the frozen dessert as the movie begins to play.
“Baby?” Joel speaks after a while, just as Allie and Noah share a passionate kiss in the pouring rain.
“Hm?” you ask, your fixed eyes on the flat screen, your mouth full of ice cream.
“You sure you’re okay?”
Swallowing, you look up at Joel, meeting his gaze.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” you answer honestly.
“‘Cause if there’s anythin’ else I can do for you…”
You purse your lips together and let out a tiny hum as you mull it over for a moment.
“You can hold me closer?” you finally suggest.
Joel shifts in his spot. “I can definitely do that—”
You stop him and point to the empty bowl.
“After you go and get us some more ice cream?”
He exhales an amused snort through his nose and shuffles out of bed, taking the bowl with him.
“Don’t get so used to bossin’ Daddy around,” Joel warns you playfully over his shoulder.
“Too late.”
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divider credit to @saradika 🍓
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kaeyaphile · 1 year
Text
crisis core sephiroth is going to be the death of me
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changetyre · 3 months
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Heyyyy I just read something with Lando and he says “I wasn’t asking” and I’m going to need moreeee please & thank you 😍
F*ck you!!! || Lando Norris x Reader ⒽⓌ
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SUMMARY: You absolutely despise the way Lando can having you screaming in anger and then pleasure in a matter of seconds…right? Part 1 Here
WARNINGS: **18+**, hate sex
A/N: I love me some hate sex, denying your feelings kinda fics
It was the worse feeling in the world, no doubt. Your first victory was right there, your hands ready to grasp it you could touch it with the tip of your fingers only for it to be ripped away from you.
The race had gone perfectly, exactly as you’d planned both you and your team had done an excellent job in what was undeniably one if the not the best race of your career, making your way up from P12 after a bad qualifying.
No further action
You read and re read the text ready to waltz into that damned stewards office and give them a piece of mind right before lighting the damn building on fire. That’s the amount of rage you felt right now.
Some part of you was absolutely ready to spend the rest of your life behind bars if it weren’t for that idiot of a man you so very much loved to fuck showed up in your drivers room.
“What the fuck do you want?” You scoffed, right about ready to slap him too.
He’d been the cause of it, happily taking the victory for himself without a care that he’d cost you your race and first and well deserved victory completely.
“I came to apologize.” Lando spoke, a smirk on his face that you wanted to wipe off but a fucked up part of you still enjoyed.
“Fuck off.” You shoved him out of the way as you continued grabbing your things scattered around the room to pack them.
“I am really sorry.” Lando repeated.
“Right you really did look sorry when you were happily spraying champagne up on the podium posing for any camera that pointed your way.” You bit back.
“Let me make it up to you then.” Lando grabbed your waist stoping you from moving around the room.
“Don’t touch me.” Lando almost believed you meant it if it weren’t for the fact you made no attempt whatsoever to get his hands off you.
“Wanna touch me instead baby?” That stupid confident smirk appeared on his face again.
“Fuck you!” You huffed angrily looking up at him.
“I bet you do.” Lando laughed before pushing his lip on yours.
You moaned in annoyance but once again didn’t try hard to push him away. Lando basked in the way you accepted it and tried fighting for dominance with your lips which only for today he’d be okay with giving you.
“I hate you.” You whispered as you yanked Lando’s hair back allowing you to trail your lips down his neck.
“I bet you do baby.” Lando only spurred you on as he felt you leaving marks across his skin.
“I do…so fucking much.” You almost moaned the words this time as you ripped Lando’s shirt off him letting your lips continue their journey downwards before yanking his pants down too.
“Show me how much darling.” Lando knew he had to be quiet, despite the fact that your little adventures weren’t secret to many anymore being victims of your loud ventures around the paddock after a day like today it didn’t seem wise to give people more to talk about.
You didn’t feel like prepping him, you quite frankly didn’t care for anything other than taking out your frustration on him, to make him whine and ache at your hands.
So as you began harshly sucking on his length you basked in the way his knees buckled from under him forcing him to find the nearest support to keep himself upright.
He tried to sit down but you were quick to deny him that luxury.
“You sit down and I’ll stop.” You threatened and you reveled in the way he obeyed, straightening up and his eyes begging for more.
Your own cheeks hurt with how hard you sucked him and you knew he wouldn’t last long, and you watched for the tell tale signs carefully.
“Sh*t that’s so good baby.” Lando panted as he gathered your hair in a ponytail.
His head fell back in pleasure, as he tried his hardest to contain the loud moans that wanted to escape his lips.
“I’m almost there…keep going…ah…ugh!” Lando’s groans got louder.
Just as he was about to release you stopped.
“WHAT THE-“ Lando absolutely hated the feeling, the ache that settled in his core with his pleasure being ripped away right at the last second.
“Feels shit doesn’t it.” You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.
“You little-“ Lando hated the fact that he for 1 second believed you’d make him feel good and forget about today.
“Have fun taking care of that.” You poked Lando’s rock-hard dick before getting up, grabbing your bags and leaving him.
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angelltheninth · 8 months
Text
BNHA Men when You Have A Near Death Experience During a Mission
Pairing: Izuku Midoriya, Bakugo Katsuki, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima x Reader
Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, nightmares, cuddles, sneaking around, literal sleeping together, life affirming kisses, crying
A/N: Time for some angst! Hope you're ready to get punched in the feels.
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Izuku never wanted to see you like that, on the ground and bleeding, broken. You can feel his tears falling onto your face, you can hear his cries, telling you to hold on that you'll be okay, you'll get fixed up in no time just hold on. In the following days he can't let go of the sight, his mind won't let him forget seeing you like in that state. When you get out of the hospital you notice that he's more quiet then usual, still sticking close to you but unsure what to say to you. If he was stronger then maybe you he could have watched your back better. So... will you train with him? Like a date. It's odd to count that as a date but he was always a weird boyfriend, in an adorable way.
"It might be sudden, you just got out of the hospital but I really want to get stronger. I haven't been sleeping well since then, every time I close my eyes the nightmares come rushing in. I want to get stronger, be able to stand by your side. Then, do we have a date?"
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Bakugo is the guy who will blame himself for you getting hurt but he will do it in the angriest way possible and actually make it seem like he's blaming everyone else. Needs to carry you to the hospital on his own, even if he himself is badly injured. If anyone so much as tries to touch you he will get aggressively protective, holding you closer to his chest in retaliation. The moment you open your eyes his mouth is on yours, his hands cupping your injured cheeks with the gentleness most doubt he could possess. He can't stay for long but for the time he can he doesn't want his hands to not be on you, he needs to know that you're okay.
"Fucking messed up back there. Don't give me that, you know I did! You could have died you idiot! Look... I'm not the best guy but you... you bring out a better side of me, I don't want to lose you. I can be sappy when I wanna. Keep your mouth shut about it or I'll shut it with mine."
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Shoto never wants to know what it feels like to lose a person he loves. There have already been so many close calls in his life, and now it's happening again. You keep telling him you'll be fine but how can you say that when you're loosing so much blood. The hall outside of your room in the hospital is in a constant flux of too hot and too cold because his emotions are all over the damn place right now. Seeing you awake calmed him down a little but it's not until he feels your hand in his pulling him next to you and letting him listen to your heartbeat that he truly calms down. It's a little cramped in the hospital bed but if you don't mind it then he'll stay like this.
"How could it have been worse? You almost died there. I never want to think about a worst outcome. I want to stay by your side forever, I want to go to sleep and wake up while listening to your heartbeat just like I am now. In a bigger bed of course."
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Eijiro had never been so angry in his life. At those who almost killed you yes but also at himself. He's your boyfriend, he should have payed more attention to what was going on around the two of you. Now you're bedridden in a hospital, unable to move without it causing pain. You'll heal but what happened will always haunt his mind. Because visiting hours have their limits he thinks it wouldn't be a problem to sneak in through the window, bring you flowers and snacks to make you feel better. You spend many hours talking, kissing, even long periods of silence. He eventually falls asleep in his chair and in the morning has to run right as he hears the door handle turn.
"Brought you flowers and your favorite snacks. I don't want you eating yucky hospital food. Are you doing better? Did you... see me when you... sorry, I don't like being that way, but when I saw you like that I lost it. I will smash through anything and anyone to keep you safe."
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heavenlyvision · 4 months
Text
Bare II
Word count: 12.8k
Pairing: Liu Kang x F!Reader
Read part one ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗ first !
A/N: Part 2 is finally here !! I am sorry it took so long. I lost power at home due to bad storms that came through on Christmas night and have been staying elsewhere, it’s really messed with my writing schedule :((( hopefully the power will be back on at home soon <33 Anywhos, enjoy this creation of my insanity !!!
Summary: Liu Kang pushes you on his want to train you in self-defence and you get to the bottom of why it’s so important to him. Later that night, he wakes you up from his heat… he seems to be having a really good dream.
Warnings: 18+ only, smut, angst but like not really, grinding, cockwarming, p in v sex, light edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, light burns, menace!Liu Kang, minor mention of creepy stranger
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When you wake up you’re still in Liu Kang’s bed, it’s warm and comfortable but he isn’t in it. Dragging yourself up, you sit in his bed and look around the room, which is also devoid of his presence. Your limbs feel heavy as you move, the ground is cold on your feet as you get out of his bed.
The sound of your bare feet hitting the floorboards is filling the quiet house and once you’ve reached the kitchen you can smell something good. There’s a plate of food and a cup of tea sitting on the counter, left for you, Liu Kang is nowhere to be seen but he seems to have made you breakfast and left you a note.
Looking at the note you can see that he’s… stupid. Big fire God is stupid. You skim it but essentially it has the vibes of “I have to go… we will talk about last night later.” Why are men dumb? You sigh and shake your head at the note, already exasperated with him, you wish he’d have woken you up to talk, how long would the conversation have taken.
All this note does is bring you unease, how hard would it have been to write something that doesn’t induce the fight or flight response in you? Seriously? All he had to write instead was, “Stellar sex, I am a busy fire God and have fire God shit to do but I am looking forward to seeing you later”…just something less ominous would have done wonders for you and your anxiety.
Now, you are grumpy, resulting in you eating your breakfast and drinking your tea, stewing in your annoyance. He is allowed to have doubts or whatever his note is meant to get across but leaving a weird note is, well… stupid. Briefly, you wonder what would happen if he came back and you were still here, his note said he intends on speaking with you later but that also feels like an aversion tactic.
To be fair, last night was more of a heat of the moment thing, you haven’t even considered what you would want from him. If he has no feelings for you then maybe it would be better to chalk it up to a mistake, you aren’t stupid, you like him… a lot and being a casual hook up is something you wouldn’t survive. Not from him, it would hurt too much but he doesn’t come across as having no feelings for you. He also doesn’t seem the type to do casual hook-ups.
Leaving without communicating with you properly is irritating, now you’re having to sit here and think of all the what ifs. It’s a waste of time and energy, especially since only one outcome is going to occur anyways. Still, you can’t help but sit here and wonder about what might happen, what he might want, if he would even honestly tell you what he wants.
The note is too vague and mostly conveys doubt in himself and his actions, it’s not explicitly stated but you know him well enough now to read between the lines. If he had felt completely guilt free, he would have stayed or woken you up to say goodbye. He had time to make breakfast, which means he had time to talk to you about this and chose not to.
Sighing again, you get up and clean the dishes he used for you, this day is going to be exhausting, you can already tell. You put your pants from last night back on and grab the rest of your things, ready to head back to your quarters. At the last second you remember the book he gifted you and run back to the room to grab it, it’s still on the nightstand where you left it.
Picking it up, you look it over and take notice of the copy he got. It’s the same published copy you had, which must have taken a bit to find because you got your copy some years ago now. He used some sticky notes for thoughts that wouldn’t fit in the spaces between the words, you did the same thing with yours. He’s properly read it; you can tell by the way his annotations are well thought out and eloquent. It’s such a kind gesture and it displays care for you in a way you’ve never experienced before.
A memory you have with your ex is when you’d asked him if he’d ever read your favourite book and he all but laughed in your face. You just wanted to be able to talk with him about it but obviously he never cared all that much for you. Relationships are hard and messy and now you are wondering what exactly you want. Grabbing the book and everything else you came with, you leave. Ready to walk back.
With the daylight, the trip through the Fire Temple is significantly easier to make. Nothing is obscured and you know exactly where you are, though you know you had poor visibility last night, you still can’t help but feel silly over getting lost and showing up at Liu Kang’s door the way you did.
You also can’t help but feel a little miffed by his blatant avoidance of you this morning, he gave you great sex, great orgasms, and the best gift you’ve ever received only for him to duck you in the morning. What the hell is that? You think the note wouldn’t even be that bad if he had said something less vague.
The walk back is filled with you angry mumbling to yourself, trying to understand his motivation, trying to understand how you’re feeling. Reading yourself and how you feel at any one point is hard, it’s why it took you so long to realise that you weren’t happy in the relationship with your ex. You knew something was wrong, you just took a bit to pinpoint it and by the time you had, it didn’t matter anymore.
Leaving was too difficult and you were comfortable, well, maybe not comfortable but it was familiar. The effort of moving out or asking him to move out was a hard thought and it left you feeling trapped. Clearly, he did not feel the same, having no trouble kicking you out when he was done with you.  
When you get back, the house is quiet and dark, the curtains are open but it’s still cloudy out after all the rain last night. It actually looks like you might get more. You decide to change out of the clothes you’re wearing into some fresh ones, finally wearing a pair of your own clean, dry underwear.
For a good chunk of the morning, you read the book gifted to you, reading over Liu Kang’s thoughts as you go. He has given well thought out insight into how the book has made him feel and why he thinks certain choices were made by the characters. A lot of the thoughts he had align with your own, he even picked up on a couple small things you hadn’t considered in all your read throughs.
It’s still one of the most thoughtful things someone has ever done for you and as you sit here reading how much thought he has put into his notes, you realise that being just his friend isn’t what you want, everything about him has captivated you. You aren’t sure what it is exactly you want from him but you don’t want things to go back to how they were before.
Before you lose your courage, you get up and leave to go looking for him. Waiting on him could take no time at all or too much time and you aren’t willing to wait right now. You aren’t exactly certain on what you’re going to say when you find him but if you don’t find him now, you might not ever tell him how you really feel.
Honesty is hard because it leaves you feeling exposed and open, honesty regarding how you feel is something you struggle with but you aren’t going to let your own hang ups get in the way. Not with him.  
The first drops of rain start to spit onto the ground below you and you consider going back to get an umbrella before ultimately deciding against it. Right now, finding Liu Kang is urgent, you only hope you find him fairly quickly. Especially if it’s about to rain now like it did last night.
The first stops you make are all his usual hang outs but he isn’t at any of them and you’re starting to get wet, the rain isn’t harsh like last night but you certainly aren’t dry. The last place you check is where you usually meet for tea but he isn’t here either, how is it that you seem to have the worst luck when it comes to finding him.
By the time you decide to give up your search and go home, you’re thoroughly soaked, your stomping footsteps have the water flicking back up at you. It’s chilly, not freezing, due to the fact it’s about midday or early afternoon, you can’t be certain on the exact time but either way the water has a cool bite to it without freezing you to the bone.
When you stomp your way into your house, Liu Kang is already there, seemingly about to leave after not finding you. He’s the tiniest bit damp but nowhere near as wet as you, looking to his right hand you see he’s holding an umbrella. The thought of a Fire God using an umbrella is funny to you.
He speaks first, “You need to stop going out in the rain.”
“In my defence… it hadn’t been raining like this when I left,” you shrug at him with your hands slightly raised.  
He retorts, “Was that not your last defence too?”
“Maybe,” you mumble, eyes averting his.
His tone is amused but also exasperated by you when he asks, “Why were you out there?”
“I was looking for you,” your eyes meet his again, “I wanted to talk with you.”
“I said I would talk with you later,” he seems confused.
You argue back, “No, you wrote a weird note that said you would talk with me later, which thanks for that by the way. Totally didn’t fill me with dread reading that first thing in the morning.”
“It was not my intention to worry you,” he steps closer as he speaks.
“Well… you did.” Your arms cross over your chest, still a bit cold. “How hard would it have been to wake me up and talk with me then.”
“I did not want to wake you.” He considers you for a moment, “You were sleeping so peacefully.”
You only scowl at him, it’s meant to be a kindness on his behalf but it felt cruel waking up to a weird letter from the man you slept with the night before. One that you have feelings for at that.
There’s quiet in the room for a moment, a quiet he breaks, “You should change out of your wet clothes.”
You hum at him and move across the room, slipping your shoes off first and leaving them at the front door. You’re only gone from the room for a minute, quickly changing out of your wet clothes into some dry ones, too many outfit changes for today.
Back in the living area, he’s moved to rest against the dining table, not sitting at it but waiting by it, for you. You stand in front of him and awkwardly shuffle your weight back and forth on both feet.
“What exactly about my note upset you?” He’s careful as he speaks, not wanting to upset you further.
“For starters, you left a note.” You look at him, brows raised a touch, “And secondly, your note displayed nothing but guilt or regret, it’s not a nice thing to read after a night that… after a night like that.” Your gaze avoids his again.
He takes in a breath, “My intention was not to make you feel bad…but I am not sure last night–”
“–I am gonna have to stop you right there, big guy.” You cut him off and talk before you’ve fully thought through exactly what you want to say, “I don’t want to hear about how you’ve talked yourself into thinking it was a bad idea. I liked it… I like you.” You’re internally screaming, you just admitted you liked him without thinking it through properly.
“You are making this difficult,” he sighs.
Your brows pinch at his statement, “I’m making what difficult?”
He gestures between the two of you, “Putting distance between us, this is not the most conventional situation, and I am not certain I am good for you.”
Of course, that is where his concerns lie, you tell him clearly, “I don’t want there to be distance between us.”
Initially, his voice is firm, eyes intense, “I do not have the luxury of being selfish…” And then he softens for you all at once, “…But you make me want to be.”
Your skin feels warm at his words, “You have a bad habit of saying things that make me incredibly happy.”
The beginnings of a smile are forming on his face, “Should I stop?”
“…No.”
He smiles full at your response; it’s tinged with a kind of smugness you would normally find unappealing but can’t help but enjoy on him.
You’re not going to let him know that though, “Don’t smile at me, I am still upset about your stupid note. Your pretty words haven’t changed that.”
“My note was… not well thought out. I apologise,” he seems sheepish, his apology genuine.
Keeping a straight face, you reply, “You’re lucky I like you.”
“I think so too,” his smile is so tender as he looks at you.
The way he’s looking at you makes you break, your mostly faux annoyance dropping from your face. You step closer and wrap your arms around him, hugging him. The action confuses him a bit, or at the very least catches him off guard. It takes him a second, but he hugs you back, pulling you closer to him and holding you firmly.
He’s warm and he smells nice, and you could stay here indefinitely, “Just to be clear, you like me too, right?” You feel embarrassed asking him, but you want clarity.
He pulls you back to look at you, both his hands reach up and hold either side of your face, his hands are gentle with you, “So much.”
The smile that breaks out across your face is large, beaming up at him. His eyes are bright, dazzled by your happiness. He leans down and kisses your cheek; you turn your face to the side slightly so you can kiss him on his lips. It’s quick, a small peck but he uses his hands on your face to adjust you, he leans down and takes your lips in his properly.
His kiss is full, heady. He moves his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your arms move up to loop around his neck. The hands on your hips wander slightly, moving to your back, the back of your head before moving back down to your hips. He’s overwhelming you completely, his touch is everywhere, his lips are soft but firm, demanding in the way he kisses you.
Suddenly, you’re being lifted, he’s pulled you up and he sits you on your dining table, your legs open for him to stand between. His lips go from yours to the side of your face, pressing kisses to your cheek. He trails them down to your neck; his mouth is hot, and his kisses are wet. He lightly sucks at your neck, nipping you every now and again. He’s being careful not to leave any marks behind, but he very clearly wants to.
The gasps and small noises that he pulls from you can’t be helped, you’re sensitive, especially to his touch. He trails his kisses back up the length of your neck, ending right beside your ear. His breath against you makes you shiver and hold back a whine.
“You are such a reactive little thing,” he mumbles against your ear and he’s right; you are but you could’ve sworn you weren’t. It’s just him.
Fighting back another shiver, you go to reply to him, but he breathes on your ear and what would have been the beginnings of your sentence cut off into a small whimper. When he pulls back, he has a very pleased look on his face. You’re scowling back at him, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
One of his hands reach up and grasp the side of your face, he angles you up slightly before leaning down and planting a full kiss on your lips. One you accept and return, despite your annoyance with him.
He moves back and hums, “As much as I would love to stay here and play with you, I have to go.”
“Cruel.” You comment, pouting at him.
He has a light smile on his lips, the rest of his features easy as he looks at you, “I will see you tomorrow, I’ll come get you.”
You can’t help but be sceptical of him, his tone is hiding something, “For what?”
“I am going to begin teaching you self-defence,” his expression holds steady, he’s not asking anymore. He’s being polite but his tone has an underlying dominance to it, not willing to argue with you on this.
So, you sigh at him, displaying that you’re still not completely on board, “Fine.”
“You will do great,” his hand holds onto yours, gripping it once in encouragement.
The concerns you have don’t have anything to do with how you might do performance wise, it’s more that you don’t really see it necessary and would rather avoid a fight it you could. Like you’ve told him previously, he keeps you separate from everything for the most part, so you don’t really understand why he wants this of you so badly.
The only reason you’ve continued to be so difficult about this is because it feels like he’s keeping something important from you and you’ve been trying to push it out of him. But as you’ve just witnessed, he is not entertaining conversation regarding this anymore. Not like that will stop you though, you just have to find a better opening.
“I am not worried about that,” your own hand grasps his once in response.
He knows what you mean, he’s been aware of the way you’ve been feeling him out every time the topic of ‘training’ comes up. He isn’t going to divulge anything though, instead he smiles politely at you and kisses you again. For the final time before he departs, his absence already felt the minute he’s out the door.
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
In the morning, Liu Kang keeps his promise. Which is unfortunate for you, it’s early morning and quite frankly, it’s too early for you when he’s knocking on your door. You don’t even want to get up and let him in, but you do. Which is quite the effort for you, but you manage and potter over to the front door, pulling it open to reveal him in all his glory. He looks good, he looks ready for the day… you do not.
His eyes are alight with mirth when he sees the state you’re in, still in your pyjamas, completely unkempt and unready for the day, “You look lovely,” he comments.
You groan at him, “It’s too early.”
“It is early, I can make some tea for you?” He’s trying to butter you up, since you’ve finally caved into what he wants.
You step to the side so he can enter, “I would like that.”
He moves closer to you, leaning down to kiss your cheek before brushing past your frame. He’s familiar with your kitchen and puts the kettle on, “You can get changed, it will probably be done then.”
“I will be back,” you smile at him, having him in your kitchen making tea for you makes your chest bloom with happiness.
Your footsteps can be heard shuffling back down the hall towards your room, Liu Kang can be heard opening cupboards in the kitchen. The clinking of mugs can also be heard as he grabs a couple of them for the pair of you.
In your room, you move over to your set of drawers, considering what would be most comfortable for today. You assume he’s going to have you moving around quite a bit, so you’ll have to wear something light and easy to move in. The safest bet is a pair of pants and a simple shirt, basic but should get the job done.
Once you’ve changed, you walk back to the kitchen where Liu Kang is, he’s sat at your dining table waiting for you. A cup of tea sitting across from him, for you.
You sit down in front of him, “Thank you for the tea.”
“You are more than welcome,” he answers, watching you as you take your first sip.
It’s warm and made exactly how you like it; he always makes it perfectly for you. A man of many talents. The tea soothes you, making you feel better about starting the day so early.
Your words are mostly spoken into your cup, “You better not make this a habit, I am not a morning person.”
He hums at you, “I make no promises.”
Your eyes squint at him over the rim of your mug, annoyed at the possibility of him waking you up this early regularly. He just smiles graciously back at you.
After tea, he washes up your mugs, even though you protest. Then he’s leading you out of your house and to a quiet area of the temple you have never been. It’s secluded but open, the perfect area to have tea. Not to Liu Kang though, to him it’s the perfect area to teach you self-defence.
You haven’t told him, but you actually know self-defence to a certain extent. You were single and living by yourself in the city for some time, so you had taken up some classes on it. It went fine, you aren’t skilled or anything, it’s just the basics in case you get assaulted or mugged. You know enough for if you need to get someone off you long enough to get away.
Your experience in the classes is part of the reason why you didn’t want to do this in the first place, the teacher was sketchy. He never did anything to you, but he enjoyed teaching that class a little too much and his hands lingered for just a little too long sometimes. You don’t know if it was malicious or not, but you were uncomfortable enough to never go back and not enrol in any new classes.
The idea of doing this with a stranger was a hard no but having it be Liu Kang makes it easier, you’d still rather not do it but that’s more because he’s keeping something from you. Something you will find out today, he will be answering your questions because you aren’t going to keep doing this for no reason. And you know he has a reason; he isn’t doing this just for kicks.
“Are you listening?” He asks you suddenly.
Was he talking? “Yes?”
“What did I just say?” He looks at you pointedly, waiting for your wrong answer.
You look off to the side, trying to think hard about what he may have been saying, “…Something about how… this is important, and you want me to take it seriously?” you try, your face cringing as you finish your sentence.
He looks to you and sighs, “Essentially, yes.”
A proud smile breaks out across your face, “See? I was paying attention,” you tell him, nodding your head.
One of his brows raise at you slightly, he knows you didn’t hear a thing he was saying before. He comes up to you, both his hands reach up and hold your face between his hands, his eyes looking into your own intensely. “This is important, focus. Please?”
“I will… sorry,” you feel bad, his eyes are pleading with you to take this seriously, so you will.
He leans down and kisses your lips softly, “Thank you.”
You hum at him in acknowledgement, momentarily distracted by his kiss, wanting more of him.
“I just want you to know some self-defence, it will be basic, and I will help you,” he assures you.
You aren’t worried though, “Sounds good.”
He moves behind you, “Okay, I am going to grab you from behind, do what you think you should do and then I will show you the correct way to free yourself.”
“I am ready, just go for it,” you tell him, he’s obviously a bit nervous, he doesn’t want to upset you or make you uncomfortable.
His arms wrap around you, under your arms, normally you would try and slide down between his arms to get away but his hold under yours means you won’t get very far. Instead, you lean all the way down and pull his ankle forward, using your weight and his loss of balance to push him back. He goes down and you go with him. His hold on you lessens and you use the opportunity to get yourself free and stand back up, you’re looking down at him now.
He’s on the floor looking up to you, his eyes examining your own, “You have done this before.”
“I never said I hadn’t,” You reply, he squints at you, and you give him your hand to help him up, which he takes.
When he’s on his feet again he asks you, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why haven’t you told me why it’s so important I know self-defence?” You counter.
He sighs at you, “I want to know you can take care of yourself.”
“Yes but it’s one thing to be able to care of yourself and another to learn self-defence in case of bodily harm,” you emphasise, “This came out of left field, Liu and you know it. Something changed for you, and I want to know what it was.”
“My feelings for you changed, I want you near me, always. I want to be with you, to care for you, always… but I can’t be.” He’s frowning slightly.
You look at him dubiously, “And so your solution was teaching me how to defend myself in an attack?”
“No.” He answers quickly, “My solution is bringing you with me.”
“What?”
“The champions, will be gathered soon and I will be spending a lot of time at the academy… it’s selfish of me but I would like you to come with me, I would like to have you beside me and I would feel better about that if you could defend yourself.” He’s still frowning, clearly unimpressed with his own wants.
“I will go with you anywhere,” you tell him because you would, you would go anywhere, as long as he is beside you.
He reaches for you, both his hands resting on either of your shoulders, his expression charmed by you and your words, “I would like that.”
You smile tenderly at him, “You realise you’ve been kind of silly, keeping this from me?”
“Maybe but how long did you keep your feelings for me to yourself?” He retorts.
“Not the same,” you huff at him, “And you did the same thing,” you point out.
He hums at you, a hand lifting off your shoulder to hold the side of your face, gently cradling it, “I will fix it now then, I like you and would like you to stay by my side.”
“I suppose I will come with you,” you’re pretending to be apathetic, but his words make you so happy.
His eyes lift with his smile, “I need to know the extent of your self-defence training.”
“I know only the basics; I know how to evade an attacker and get myself free of a hold. I don’t know much else.”
“It is more than I thought,” he’s smiling brightly at you.
“What?” You are confused as to why he is so happy right now.
“It means I can teach you offensive attacks,” he informs.
You frown at him, “If I am going to be with you, do I really need to know how to attack someone?”
“It would make me feel better,” he replies, his thumb strokes your cheek.
Your tone is serious as you address him, “Liu, I don’t want to have to attack someone, I hope you know that.”
“I know and hopefully, you won’t but I’d like to know you could.” His expression is serious and so is his tone.
“You’re pushy,” you complain.
The side of his lips quirk up in a smile, “Only because I care.”
“You will not be teaching me any attacks today.” He opens his mouth to protest but you hold a finger up, “No, I have to think about it, attacking someone is different from defending yourself.” You’re looking at him firmly.
You aren’t one of his champions, you are not a fighter. You learnt self-defence out of concern for your own safety and well-being, learning to attack someone is something else entirely and you will have to think on whether or not you want to learn something like that.
“I would like you to consider it, but I understand,” he says before pulling you to him, holding you firmly. You can’t tell if he wants to comfort you or himself.
You sigh against him, “I will show you all I do know today, though.”
“I would like that,” he speaks into the top of your head.
So, you show him all you know. You spend a good amount of time showing him the different kinds of self-defence moves you know, and he helps you, teaching you better ways to do things or correcting your form. It is informative and you’re comfortable with him, his hands are warm, and they guide you.
His touch is innocent, his only intent is helping you show him what you know. He has no ulterior motives, and you realise that the teacher you had was definitely just creepy because this man you’ve slept with is holding you with the innocence of a man who has never seen you naked and has no desire to, his only desire is teaching you and seeing what you’re capable of.
“What is wrong?” Liu Kang asks.
Your face has betrayed your silent moment of realisation, a deep frown set in your eyebrows that you hadn’t noticed, “It’s nothing.” You smile at him, dropping the frown from your face.
He takes you in for a moment, determining if he should push you on this but lets it go, the both of you picking up where you left off. It isn’t until late morning, almost midday that you both stop.
“You know significantly more than I thought you would,” he says.
Looking to him, you reply, “I told you; I only know the basics.”
He makes a sound of amusement, “You know a bit more than the basics.”
You’re a tad shocked, “I do?”
“You do.” He confirms.
“How odd,” you comment.
“Come on, let’s walk back,” he grabs your hand and leads you back. The walk is quiet, and you enjoy the warmth of his large hand for most of it.
Beside you, he squeezes the hand he’s holding to get your attention, “Are you okay, with everything?”
“Yeah, I am okay.” You assure him.
He isn’t sure and tries to offer you an out, “I am being selfish by wanting you with me, you do not have to come.”
“I meant what I said, I would go anywhere with you,” you smile at him and lean into his side.
He hums from beside you, “Good.”
₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
He doesn’t stay long with you; he has to leave for the rest of the afternoon into the evening, but he said he would visit you later in the night if it isn’t too late. You had told him to come by even if it is late, but you don’t know if he will.
The tail end of the day is spent doing whatever you can, mostly though, you read the book Liu Kang gifted you. The notes he left are like reading his mind, they’re extensive and you’re wondering what you could do in return. Something kind that he’d like, something he can appreciate as much as you appreciate the book, but you don’t know what exactly that would be.
Looking to the clock on the wall, you can see the time has slipped by quickly, closer to midnight now. You peel yourself from your spot on the couch and move to lock the door before deciding against it, hoping Liu will stop by and let himself in.
Instead, you potter down the hall and slip into your bed, reflecting on things, head full of thoughts. The day had taken more out of you than you expected it to, you’re still a little stunned that you know self-defence well enough to impress Liu, though he didn’t think you knew any sort of defence, so his surprise is warranted.
You suppose you took those classes fairly regularly for a while and you enjoyed learning, so it shouldn’t shock you completely that you know it well. It’s a damn shame about that teacher though, you really hope he isn’t still teaching.
Thinking about that city fills you with a sense of melancholy, so many bad memories you left behind but also some good things too. You think, you’ll want to go back soon, to see the few friends you had there, maybe go back to that café with Liu.
The plushness of your bed is calling you, and you find yourself sinking back further into it, adjusting yourself so you’re completely content. The comfort of the bed has your eyes drooping, dozing off and drifting into a quiet slumber. Your dreams are empty, thoughts clear for once and you feel warm, comforted. It’s peaceful and you don’t remember the last time you’ve had such a tranquil sleep.
But then the warmth has you getting hot, body temperature rising uncomfortably. You can’t move and eventually your body wakes you up, startling yourself slightly. When you open your eyes, everything is dark and your mind is hazy from the sleep but with what little consciousness you do have, you realise what the cause of the heat was. Liu has crawled into bed behind you and pulled your body to his, his arms keeping you close but whatever he’s dreaming about has his powers a bit out of whack. You wonder how much time has passed and how long he’s been in bed next to you.
His skin is burning up and it’s unfortunately what woke you up, he was unintentionally overheating you while you both slept. Shuffling, you turn around in his hold and put a hand on his face, he’s very hot. He unconsciously pulls you closer to him, a hand wanders down to your hip and pulls you to him. Your front collides with his and, oh? You can see now why he’s burning up; his cock is solid against you.
A sigh leaves his mouth from slightly above you, his cock grinding into you lazily. The hand you have on his cheek quickly taps at his face to wake him; you’re surprised by his unconscious desperation, and you briefly wonder what he is dreaming about.
He wakes up at your touch on his face, his eyes bleary as he looks down to you, he hums in question at you; wordlessly asking why you woke him up.
“Uhm, you…” The words trail off, you can’t seem to find out how to phrase what you want to tell him and now your sleepy brain is needy for him.
Liu grunts at you, fully aware of his own situation now that he’s awake, “Did I wake you?” His words are mumbled, still half asleep.
Your brain is a few steps behind your mouth and your response is to mutter out, “You are hot.”
His eyes close again but his mouth rises into a lazy smile, “You think so?”
You take a second to think of your words first this time, “I mean, yes but you were literally hot, your heat woke me up.”
“You think I am hot,” he teases you, voice deep with sleep.
Sighing you ask him bluntly, “What were you dreaming of?”
One of his eyes open to look down at you, eyebrow raised, “Guess.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes, you don’t like guessing games, “You sure you can’t just tell me?”
He doesn’t reply, his smile is sly.
He’s the one who was so worked up he almost burnt you in your sleep, “Are you sure you’re in a position to tease?” You enquire.
“And what do you mean by that?” You’ve caught his attention now.
“I mean, you are the needy one right now,” you observe.
“Hmmm, I may be needy,” He mocks your usage of the word, “but I will make you desperate,” his hand pulls your thigh over his hip, his hard cock pressing directly into your core; it makes you gasp. “Want me to show you what I was dreaming of?”
You fight the urge to grind yourself against his dick, not wanting to prove him right. You want to show that he is needier than you, at least tonight but with the way he holds your cunt firmly to his cock without so much as moving an inch, you think you might lose this battle. He’s so hard against you and you’re itching for him to move, to give you a fraction of relief but he’s only holding you, nothing more.
His gaze is unbothered, clearly, awake Liu Kang has far more control than asleep Liu Kang, “Answer me.”
You can feel yourself growing wetter the longer he holds you to him, you’re fighting against yourself. The urge to take what you need growing, but you doubt you would even get close to succeeding.
“Love your facial expression, do you know how desperate you already look for me?”
You look away and pout, “It’s not intentional…”
A finger hooks under your chin and makes your gaze meet his again, “It never is,” his tone is amused, “You wear all your thoughts on your face,” he comments.
“I want to know,” you answer his question from before, his brow raises and you clarify, “I want to know what you were dreaming about.”
“Are you sure?” He’s straight faced as he asks.
“Always.”
Suddenly, he rolls over and takes you with him, he sits you on his lap. You’re sitting on his cock and you’re trying so hard not to grind down into him, though you really would love nothing more than making him cum in his pants for you. He rips your underwear and sleep shorts off, the display of strength astounding to you. Instead of dropping them to the floor like a normal person though, he burns them, he burns your underwear and shorts to a crisp in front of you.
You’re shocked, “Wh– What the hell?”
“Next time, keep your bottom half bare,” he shrugs.
“Liu,” you’re still shocked, he might be a little bit more needier than he’s letting on.
“Yes?”
Your expression is stunned, “You could’ve just put them on the floor.”
“I could have, yes.” He confirms. “Can I stuff you full now? Or do you need another moment to scold me?”
You’re at a loss for words, torn between scolding him and wanting to be full of him. His face is unbothered, but his eyes are knowing, he knows what you will pick, and you really wish you were more spiteful, to teach him a lesson, but you want him inside you.
“Hmmm, I think…” his fingers slip to your pussy, sliding through your folds and spreading your slick all over yourself, “…You need me to fill you up right now,” his fingers are coated in your wetness when he removes them, he shows them to you before pushing them into your mouth.
Your lips wrap around his fingers and suck, cleaning them of yourself. Liu grunts at the feeling of your tongue licking at them, his eyes carefully watching the way your lips are engulfing his large fingers. His gaze is far away as he watches the way he pulls them out of your mouth, obsessing over your mouth, over your lips.
His focus comes back, and he frowns, his hands pull your shirt up and off you quickly; the action surprises you. Gathering yourself, you say, “Do not burn it!”
The expression he wears is amused and for a moment he looks like he’s considering burning it in front of you, just to see your reaction. He ultimately decides against it and chucks it on the floor, something he could have done to your shorts and underwear.
“Pleased?” He asks, raising a brow at you.
“As much as I can be after you’ve…” your retort trails off because he has completely ignored you, pulling his cock out of his pants as you were speaking.
And as you look at his big dick, you’re struck, completely wordless and salivating as you look at it and the way his hand grips himself. His thumb rubs over the tip of his cock, he must’ve been having one hell of a dream because he is incredibly hard and slick. His own precum dribbling from the head of his cock in thick globs, his thumb spreads it all over himself, hand dragging it down over his length.
His cock is shiny and coated in his own mess, you’re practically drooling, your cunt throbbing with your overwhelming need for him, “Liu,” your voice is breathy as you call out his name and it makes his cock jump in his hand.
Your hand reaches out to replace his own, holding him firmly but gently, you stroke up and down his length. Your movements spread more of his precum over his large cock, your thumb rubs at his tip, smearing it all over. His breaths are picking up, his hips twitching, holding back from fucking into your hand. His eyes are shut, savouring the feeling of your softer and smaller hand on him.
“Put. It. In,” he hisses out between clenched teeth, “Or I will.”
You hesitate, finding it an opportune time to tease him, “Why? Are you getting needy?” Your voice singsongs to him, full of mirth.
His eyes flick back open to look at you, his gaze dark and hungry and you feel like maybe, you did not have the upper hand you thought you had. Now, you think, he was maybe indulging you. His finger moves to your core, spreading your slick all over yourself again.
He avoids your clit and lightly pushes the tip of a finger into your pussy hole, only to drag it out and play with your cunt by smearing your arousal all over yourself. The action has your hand pulling back from his cock, grabbing at his wrist, holding onto him. He is working you up purposefully, not giving you any real pleasure. And it really does feel like a punishment because you already wanted him.
You go to ask him for more, “Can you–”
“–Shhh,” he cuts you off, not giving you the chance to request more from him, “You think I am needier than you?”
You don’t answer but your lack of a response is still a response.
“Hmmm, I will remind you of how fun you are to play with, how desperate you get for me,” his fingers still slide through your slick cunt. “How easy it is to have you cumming for me.”
Your pussy clenches down on emptiness, wanting so bad to be full of him. Wanting him to stop teasing you and force his cock inside your very wet cunt but you made a miss step, mistaking his directions for a moment of weakness. And while you were right about his need, he’s certainly not going to give up the control that easily.
God, you just need him to stop being so cruel, his cock is thick and heavy and slick, oozing precum still, but he’s not willing to give you the satisfaction, not now, not after your taunt.
“Liu, please– I… want you,” his fingers still avoid your clit, only really making a mess and not giving you any satisfactory pleasure, you feel like you might shed a tear.
He hums in thought at you, his gaze on your cunt and his fingers, “You want me?”
As you go to answer, his fingers slip over your clit, rubbing tight circles into it very suddenly. Your body collapses forward, hands coming out and landing on his chest to hold yourself up. He chuckles at your reaction, at the way you’re already borderline shaking on top of him. His fingers are relentless, and he was right because you’re already right on the edge and just as you think he might push you off it, he pulls his hand back. It lands on your hip, fingers wet and sticky from your cunt.
They drum against your skin, “You were saying?”
You glare at him, your voice shakes, “That was mean.”
He only smiles politely at you, his expression easy, unbothered by seemingly, everything. He’s waiting for you to speak, and you know exactly what he wants to hear but you only purse your lips and stare at him.
He tuts in response to your defiance, “Got to ask for the things you want, love.”
You pout, “I want you.”
“I am right here,” he retorts, the hand on your hip slides up the side of your body, landing on your tit.
His free hand comes up and grabs at your other tit, he fondles your chest, his hold firm. The way he’s groping you is driving you up a wall and his cock jumps against his abdomen at the way you whine for him. His index and middle fingers pinch your nipples between them as he grabs at you and another pitiful whine comes from you. He releases a mix between a sigh and groan at the sound, obviously struggling with his desire for you.
Your eyes are big and pitiful when you look to his, “Liu, please, I want you inside–”
“–Not what I want to hear,” he cuts you off, eyes stern as he looks at you.
Leaning forward, he presses his lips to your neck, your hands move from his chest to hold onto his shoulders, and you’re surprised at how hot he has gotten again. His body temperature increasing with the way he’s restraining himself; his mouth sucks a mark into your neck and his tongue is hot as it licks at your skin.
His hands grip your hips and pull you closer to him again, his mouth sucking marks into your neck, your chest. He’s working his way down, leaving hot and wet marks against your skin everywhere his lips go. Once he’s reached your breasts, he takes a nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking at it, the warmth of his mouth makes you twitch on top of him, a gasped whine exiting your lungs at his ministrations.
He pulls back but bites at your nipple lightly as he does, it makes you jump and gasp, “Liu, please…” He makes a noncommittal noise, still not hearing what he wants from you.
The grip he has on your hips moves to your thighs, he’s grabbing at your skin, enjoying the softness of your thighs, his hands are hot on your delicate skin, and you squirm in his lap. His gaze locks onto your thighs, and you think you know what he wants, probably wants to leave marks on them.
After he gets an eyeful, his eyes look to your cunt, your slick dripping down your thighs with how little he’s given you. So horny for him and he’s done nothing but edge you once and fondle you. One of his hands slips from your thigh to your pussy, fingers immediately massaging your clit, you’re so worked up that you moan at the slight touch. His other hand grips harshly at your thigh, grounding himself.
“You are so wet,” he observes, his fingers still rubbing your clit, “Why don’t you end your suffering and tell me what I want to hear?”
Your response isn’t much of a response at all, only a small broken whimper passing your lips. The pathetic sound has Liu’s abs tightening, his cock twitching, the heat he’s radiating increasing, obviously he’s torturing himself at the moment. He looks delicious and as much as you’d love to see how much it’d take to break him; you don’t think you would survive it.
“I need you, please,” you break for him, eyes pleading, wet and almost crying, so close to finishing and wanting him to let you. He doesn’t reply though, and it worries you, so you beg, “please, Liu –nngh– need you to– I–” You’re incoherent and your voice is whiney but when you look into his eyes, fuck. He looks… feral.
His hand speeds up for you, his grip on your thigh loosens just the smallest amount, enough so you can grind down onto him a bit. You’re leaking down his hand, down his wrist, your nails dig into his shoulders and right as you’re about to cum again, he pulls his hand away… again.
The sound you release is a borderline sob, your pussy is throbbing with need, and you’re so confused as to why he didn’t let you cum. Your eyes fill with unshed tears as you look at him, your voice is small when you ask, “Why?”
He wears a large smile on his face, eyes still feral but he seems to have found a new kind of resolve, “Something wrong?”
You’re speechless, are you still being punished? Why didn’t he let you cum, did you not give in to him? “What did I do wrong?” Your brows are pulled up, worried.
“Nothing, you have been perfect,” he smiles assuredly at you, but his expression has an underlying wicked hunger. He taps your thigh, so you hold yourself up, “I’m going to stuff you full now,” he informs you and at his words you hold yourself up for him.
You don’t want to get your hopes up, now feeling like his show of mercy will come with conditions but you are really hoping he will fill your cunt. He grips his cock in his hand, pulling you closer to him, when you’re in reach, he rubs the messy tip of himself through your folds. The pair of you already a mess in your own rights, the action mixing the two together.
“Take the tip,” he directs, voice firm, warning you to only take the tip of him.
“Yessir,” you murmur in response as a joke, but his dick twitches the smallest bit in his hold.
For your own sanity, you don’t tease him for it, fearing you may not survive anymore edging. You do as you’re told, lowering yourself onto his cock and taking only the tip of him, with how wet you both are, it’s an easy fit. You take his tip well, but you are slightly concerned with taking the rest of him; right now, you think, if he slammed up into you all at once, you’d cum on his dick alone.
Your thighs are burning slightly at how you’re having to hold yourself up, trying not to take anymore of him. He’s breathing heavily, his skin getting hotter again, his hands move to your thighs and grip them, pulling at the supple flesh. Your pussy is pulsing around the tip of him and he’s doing everything he can to hold back, having a specific plan for how he wants to fuck you tonight and doesn’t want to ruin it by losing control here.
His thumb slips to your clit and rubs into it, flicking at it, it makes you moan and has you itching to sit down on him. Wanting to feel completely stuffed full, “Liu, I want –nghh– I want all of you.”
“That’s too bad because I want you to do as I say,” he replies harshly, voice hissed between his clenched teeth. His commanding voice and the attention he’s giving your clit makes you clench down on him, he continues talking, “I want you to cum, that’s what I want.”
Something about him tonight is driving you crazy and you were already so close to cumming before he spoke but now, after hearing him tell you what he wants, you’re a split second away from cumming. The final straw is when you look down to where you’re taking just the tip of him, your own arousal sliding down the sides of his cock, the mess is obscene, and it makes you cry out.
Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders again, needing the leverage as you cum on him. The feeling of your walls fluttering on the head of his cock makes him groan, loudly. His head falls back on the headboard and his eyes close, needing a moment to recover before making his next move.
The breaths you release are huffed; he’s finally let you cum and it makes your previously unshed tears slip down your cheeks. The relief you feel is euphoric, your head dizzy with how good it felt. He only edged you twice and you just about lost your mind, if he ever tries to do that properly, he might kill you. Or drive you actually insane.
He opens his eyes to look at you, “Crying over the tip of my cock?” His tone is cocky, knowing he’s pulling you apart so well.
“No,” you lie, a hand moving off him to wipe at your cheeks but one of his own hands stop you, grabbing your wrist.
“Leave it, you look cute, crying over my dick,” he muses aloud to you.
You look at him sceptically but don’t wipe your face all the same, letting him have his way. When he’s sure you won’t wipe your face, he drops your hand.
“Sit down,” he says, “Take it all, for me.”
You feel yourself flutter with excitement, looking forward to finally being full of him. You slide down his length, taking more of him, slowly as you do. The stretch of him is delicious and you think, even if it hurt, you wouldn’t stop, your need for him outweighing any pain. You want him in you, want his pelvis grinding into your clit, need, you need his pelvis grinding into your clit.
The both of you are so slick and sticky the sounds can already be heard in the room, a soft squelching as your cunt sinks down on him. His hands hold your hips, helping guide you down onto him fully, you’re taking your time, wanting to be careful. Your hands move to his pecs, open palms splayed on his chest, there’s heat radiating from him, hotter now than when he almost overheated you in your sleep.
“You’re –nngh– really h–hot, Liu,” you tell him, concerned by it.
He smiles at you suggestively, and if you weren’t still trying to take all of his cock, you would roll your eyes at him. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, knowing you are worrying for him and his wellbeing, even with his cock a few inches in you.
He’s getting impatient at how long it’s taking you to get all of him inside you, his frustration reaching a head. Instead, he takes control and shoves you down on him, filling you all at once, the shock of it, of being so full suddenly, the slap of his pelvis against your clit, it makes you cum on him very suddenly. Small whimpers falling from your lips, your hips unconsciously keep grinding into him, riding out the high. Your cunt clenching down on him, hard, with your orgasm.
A guttural groan comes from Liu, you can feel it rumble in his chest under your hands, “That’s it– mmph– love how easy you cum for me–” he sighs out, relishing in the way you’re gripping his fat cock.
Your hips come to halt, done grinding down into him but his hands on you keep moving you against him. Encouraging you to keep grinding, it makes your stomach do flips, barely even coming down from your high before he’s trying to get you to cum again.
“It’s too much–”
“–I thought you needed it,” he counters.
You shudder against him, already on the edge so quickly after your last orgasm. You try to tell him how it feels, how it’s so overwhelming. Having his cock grinding so deeply inside you, having your clit drag against his pelvis, it’s so much. But nothing leaves you, nothing but a few more tears and small whimpers.
His expression as he watches you is sure; he knows what he’s doing, and he knows what he wants from you. You play right into his hand, and nothing brings him more joy than that, “You want to know what I need?” He asks you.
You shake your head at him, not really paying attention.
“I need you to cum again,” he tells you and he’s serious, his hands grip you harder and drag you against him firmer.
The added pressure has you cumming on him again, your cunt squeezing him tightly as you cream around him, again. He moans pleasurably, overjoyed at you doing as he says and at the way your cunt cums messily around him. He twitches inside you, sensitive and needy for you but having too much fun playing with you to stop.
Even as your body jolts from overstimulation, he doesn’t stop dragging you against him, still forcing your hips to grind down, “Liu, I need a moment–”
“–No, you don’t.”
With the way he’s filling you completely and the stimulation on your clit, he’s going to kill you, or have you passing out on his cock. Your arms struggle to keep yourself up, shaking against his chest. One of his hands leave your hips to pull you to him, your bare chest pressed to his own. He’s so hot.
How he’s holding you now, he leans back slightly, feet planting on the bed. Using his leverage to grind up into you as he forces you down on him, it has you moaning into his skin. The hand on your back slides up and grabs at the back of your neck, holding you to him.
“I know you’re already close again,” his voice is breaking, holding back his own sounds of pleasure until they only come out as whiney breaths.
You whinge against him, “I can’t–”
“–You can, and you will.”
His skin is so warm, so firm, all his muscles moving against you. His large cock fills you so well and you want him to actually fuck you, but you’re concerned you might not be able to take it. You’re drooling on his skin now, just from his incessant grinding, the thought of him actually fucking you has your cunt clenching and brain short circuiting.
“Come on, love–” his words are cut off by his own gasp, you’ve cum at the sound of his voice. It’s low but pitched with need and he sounds so fucking good that you cum on the spot, your pussy choking his dick harshly.
He groans at the way you grip him; his hands stop dragging you down onto him, but his hips chase yours, his own desperation showing in the way he’s rutting against you. His arms wrap around you, holding you to him tightly. He keeps grinding up into you and it makes you whine into his neck.
He’s breathing heavily next to your ear, borderline whimpering at the way you wrap so tightly around him, at the way you came so nicely for him.
“Liu, you –hah– feel too good –mmph– too much,” you mumble against his skin, his shoulder wet from where you’ve been drooling against him.
“–Hah– I am not even close to done with you yet,” he huffs in response, his hips still grinding up into you. With how he’s holding you, you have no choice but to take what he gives and what he’s giving right now is desperate grinding, still not fucking into you properly.
He moves his face into your neck and licks at the length of it, it makes you shudder against him, "Last one, and then –mmm– I’ll fuck you.”
You’re dazed as you check with him, “Promise?”
He hums at you, “Promise.”
His hips keep grinding up into you, his hand on your hip encouraging you to do the same, wanting you to finish for him. Your body is tired, but you rut down against him, it makes him hiss and then he bites your neck. The sounds he would have made muffled by his teeth in your skin, the feeling has your cunt spasming on him.
He pulls his mouth back from you just to lick and suck at your skin and then he’s biting your shoulder. The small pain driving you up a wall, it makes your pussy leak for him, your breaths are stuttered and you’re going to cum again.
He mumbles against your skin before pulling back a bit so you can hear him, “The way you’re gripping me, fuck–” He’s about to moan but instead bites your neck again, harder this time. The shock of the pain goes straight to your cunt and you cum on him, again.
You’re lucky he’s already pressed you completely to him because you would’ve collapsed onto him. Whines and whimpers are pulled from your chest, more tears slip down your cheeks and you feel so far away from your body, you don’t even feel like you’re on Earth anymore.
Liu is groaning into your skin, he pulls back and lathes over his bite mark with his tongue and when he looks at it, he hums in contentment. Pleased with the impression of his teeth in your soft skin. His hips have stopped grinding up into you, giving you a needed break, you’re slumped against him, breathing heavily.
“Been doing so good for me,” he compliments. You can only hum in response to him, you’re out of it.
He lets you catch your breath; his hands stroke up and down your back, his lips press kisses into your skin, over the bite marks he’s left. He’s giving you a quiet moment to gather yourself and you really appreciate it because at this point, you don’t even know how many orgasms he’s given you, but your body does and you’re feeling fucked out.
Once your breathing is normal, you tell him, “You’re going to kill me.”
He chuckles at you lightly, amused, “No, I’m not.” He pulls your head back so he can press his lips to yours, taking away any chance of you disputing him.
The kiss is kind and tender and a stark difference to how he’s just pulled multiple orgasms from you. He kisses you softly, his tongue slips into your mouth, and you melt against him. Your thighs spreading open further on him unconsciously, it has his cock inching just the tiniest bit more inside you and it makes you moan into the kiss.
He grunts against you; his hands grip at your hips. His body heat is still hot, he’s itching to fuck you but being as patient as he can be. When he pulls back from the kiss, he nips your lip lightly and it makes you gasp. He only smiles easily at you when you glare at him for it.
“Need you to move, want you on your hands and knees for me,” he taps your thigh, and you start pulling up, it has you releasing gasped whines. Just as you’re at the tip of him, his hands hold you on him, “Look at the mess you’ve made on me,” he practically growls out the words.
When you look down, the mess is obscene, so much of your cum coats his cock. Creamy ring at the base of him, you look to Liu but he’s looking at his cock and how messy it is. His dick jerks at the image, his hands hot on your hips.
“You are such a messy little thing, love the way you cum for me, so fucking easy to have you creaming on me, fuck–” he closes his eyes for a moment, he’s working himself up. He takes a breath and looks at you, eyes dark, “Hands and knees.”
Taking the hint, you pull yourself off him completely and shuffle around on the bed. You face the headboard and sit back on your knees, feeling a bit embarrassed at arching your back for him and hesitating to do so. He gets off the bed and stands up, removing his pants properly. He moves to the foot of the bed and points in front of himself, giving you wordless instructions.
You do as he indicates and move in front of him, he tells you, “Hands, knees,” and makes a spinning motion with his hand, instructing you to turn your back to him.
Turning around, you lean onto your hands, you feel sheepish as you do. Liu’s hand pushes your upper back down until your chest is on the bed, his other hand pushes your thighs open for him. You arch your back for him, your ass and cunt on full display. When he pulls away to look at you, he groans.
His hands play with the globes of your ass, pulling them apart and staring at your pussy, “Perfect, stay like this.”
Faintly, you can hear shuffling from behind you, you aren’t sure what he’s doing. But it shocks you when Liu drives his cock into you all at once, your body jolts forward and you moan. Liu curses lowly at the feel of you around him again. His curses are hissed and breathy, and he holds his hips to your ass for a moment, collecting himself.
Once he’s taken a second, he pulls out of you and forces himself back in. His initial choice in pace is already so devastating, his thrusts are harsh, stuffing his cock into you with each one. All you can do is take it though, so you do, because as overstimulated as you are, the way he’s finally fucking you has you feeling so blissed out, you wouldn’t rather be doing anything else.
He fucks into you so deep the tip of his cock kisses your cervix, your moans are pitiful, almost whimpers from how well he fills you, from how well he fucks you. He has you seeing stars and you would be embarrassed at how close you are to cumming on him again, but it feels so good, and you’ve been far gone ever since he stuck his dick in you completely the first time.
Liu’s moans flow more freely from him like this, letting himself indulge after robbing himself of the pleasure he desperately wanted from you. He was torturing you before sure, but he was also balls deep in your tight cunt, not doing anything but grind into you, his self-restraint is godly, and he thanks all that is good for it because he really does love making you coat his dick in your cum. He loved having you cry for him, overstimulated and needy, he’s going to cum at just the thought of it if he’s not careful.
Your moans hit a higher pitch and his thrusts pick up pace, knowing you’re close and still wanting another couple orgasms from you before he finally fills you with his cum. His hands on your hips fuck you back onto him as he thrusts forwards and you’re clenching down on him, a small pathetic whimper exiting you as you cum on him.
If you hadn’t already been arched the way you are, your arms would have given out and had you face planting into the bed below. Instead, you whimper at your unknown numbered orgasm and drool into the sheets. Mind swimming with thoughts of him, of his large hands, how hot they are against your skin, about the thick drag of his heavy cock against your walls, how easily he pushes you off the edge, so sure in his actions, so sure you’ll cum for him when he wants it.
Your pussy throbs around him, he grunts but doesn’t stop fucking you, he own need overwhelming him, his spoken thoughts not all that coherent anymore, “G –hah– you feel so fucki– feel so divine –nngh– mm going t– hah– to fuck all my cum inside you, fill up your –nngh– tight little –fuck– cunt,” his breaths are whiney, and his head is lost in the feel of you.
His hand reaches around your front to rub at your clit, the stimulation has you shrieking and trying to crawl away from him, “Liu– I –hah– can’t please–”
You keep trying to crawl up the bed away from him, but he pulls you right back with no effort, “Yes you can– I need you to –hah– fuck–”
He holds you back easily, you have no chance to escape his punishing thrusts and relentless fingers. He’s still mumbling nonsense but not only is he barely coherent, but your thoughts are barely coherent, all the blood rushing to your head. You can’t understand what he’s saying but it’s a mix between praises and curses.  
His fingers don’t stop and you cum on him, he’s effortlessly pulled another orgasm from you, and it makes your moan border on a yelp. Tears flow down your cheeks onto the bed sheets, you’re so sensitive now, your mind so far gone. He’s growling behind you at the way you pulse around him, the noises he makes barely human.
His hands are so hot on you, his skin burning up, he grabs both of your hands and pulls them back. Using you as leverage to fuck into you, he’s also making sure you can’t try and crawl away from him. His thrusts are wild, the wet noises in the room are so obscene, you think you’d die of shame if you had even half your wits about you.
You’ve heard the phrase fucked dumb and you thought you had been fucked dumb, last time Liu fucked you, but this is insane. He’s going to send you to an early grave, and you don’t even care, not with how delicious he sounds, the moans and grunts he’s letting out have you ascending to a higher plane.
His grip on your wrists are firm but he drops them and grabs your hips again, just to pull you back, your legs drop to the floor in front of him. Lucky he’s holding you up because you are not capable of it at the moment. Your front half is still pressed completely into the bed, Liu holds your lower half up, your tippy toes just barely grazing the floor. His dick is hitting everything inside you that has you folding in on yourself and insides twisting, he might make you cum again, you’re going to need some kind of higher being to take mercy on you because you are fucked.
He's animalistic behind you, focusing on his own high, at least you thought he was, but his hand reaches for your clit again and you try to squirm away from him. You are unsuccessful, you’re so weak and he’s got you in the palm of his hand and he knows it. You can’t even verbally protest, only wiggle and whine below him.
“Want you to –hah– fuck– I need you to squirt for me,” his voice is deep, laced with so much hunger.
You try to tell him, “I don –ah– ’t th –mmph– ink I–”
“You can.” He’s steadfast, certain you can and that he will make you.
His fingers slip over your clit, everything is so slick, both your lower halves slippery from all your orgasms. He’s not gentle, his thrusts are harsh, and his fingers are determined, his cock is bullying its way into your cunt, hitting so deeply inside you, you go cross eyed.
The build-up is making you crazy, everything he does is pulling you apart by the very fibre of your being. Your cunt is clenching down on him like a vice, the pleasure feels like too much and you squirm against him, trying to get away again. Nonsensical words fall from your lips trying to warn him, but he only laughs deeply at your attempts at evasion; he’s happy he’s getting what he wants. A particularly deep thrust sends you over the edge, you cum… everywhere.
Liu groans at the sight of you squirting for him, on him, his thrusts don’t slow, if anything, they speed up. Chasing his own high now, so ready to fill you to the brim with his cum. He’s trying very hard to keep his powers under control, not wanting to burn you but his hands are hot against you and the closer he gets to his high, the less control he has over himself.
You’re crying from the pleasure, it’s been so intense, you don’t even feel like a person anymore. You can’t even moan, the noises you make are small whines and cries. Liu is obsessing over how your cunt swallows his cock, how well you take him. He’s also enjoying the small sounds you’re making, his ego inflated hugely tonight.
Everything about you right now has Liu just about losing his mind, the sounds he lets out are wild and unrestrained. All you can do is take it and wait for him to finish, and you really want him to finish. You want to hear him cum, want to feel him twitch inside you as he finishes.
You clamp down on him harshly, the sudden tightness of your cunt has Liu keeling over slightly, moans breaking off into whimpers as he fucks his cum into you. His hands burn you and he fucks your hips down against the bed so it holds you up, wanting to remove his hands as quick as he can.
He grabs at the footboard of the bed, the wood smouldering under his hands, he’s burning his handprints into the wood. He humps into you for a while, riding out his high, rutting into you to keep his cum inside your pussy. You’re pressed to the bed, completely absent.
When he’s gathered some control back, he leans down over you, “Are you okay?”
“I– I think so,” you slur out, mouth mostly pressed into the mattress.
He hums and slowly pulls his cock from you, he takes a moment to watch his cum leak from you, wanting so badly to stuff it back in but knowing you’re already so sensitive and he doesn’t want to push you.
“Did I go too far?” He asks, scared he’s broken you.
“Mm good,” you singsong out, shakily giving him a thumbs up, “Worth it.”
He scoffs at you in amusement, eyes tracing over your fucked out body, landing on the light burns he’s left on your hips. Red handprints left behind; the sight has his ego inflating but he also feels guilty.
“Need to give you a cold shower,” he comments.
You murmur out to him, “Bit late for that.”
“For the burns,” he clarifies.
“Hmm?” You didn’t think they were that bad, you remember him being hot, not burning you. Getting up slowly and with Liu’s help, you twist to look at your hips, “Well, I’ll be.” You smile stupid at the burns, “I like ‘em.” You say before flopping back onto the bed.
“Need to run them under cool water,” he presses you.
You only groan at him, “Can’t move.”
He sighs at you and picks you up, carrying you to your bathroom. He has to hold you up in the shower but he’s happy to. Your legs are like jelly and you’re barely conscious.
You remember why this happened and ask him, “As good as your dream?”
“So much better,” he kisses your cheek, “In my dream, you only came a couple times, this was way better.”
You gape at him, “What?”
He just smiles happily at you, pleased with himself.
₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
A/N: THANK YOU FOR READING!!! I know it took me way longer than usual and I really appreciate all of you <33 As always, if you have any thoughts, questions, requests, my inbox is open ! P.S. the discord server got snippets of this way more and were updated more frequently, if you’d like to join send me a dm :))))
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Yandere Bachira/ Yandere Shidou + Obsessing Over Their Agent
Giving into their egos at the end of Blue Lock, they're used to getting everything they wanted and what they wanted next...was their cute little agent who handled their public relations and contracts♡
Characters: Bachira Meguru, Shidou Ryusei
Bachira:
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"You're staring again."
Bachira blinks at your words, dazed as he slowly was brought back to reality. Huh, he must've zoned out staring at your face again. Your sharp (e/c) eyes focused on your phone, your stoic expression making his heart beat a bit more quickly in his chest, and your hair which was all fixed up and neat was just begging for his fingers to come through it with how it looked. He tilted his head to the side cutely and closed his eyes, flashing you his most charming smile.
"Can you blame me?" He chuckled, moving his way over to you. With lightning fast reflexes, you stuck your foot up in the air to stop him while still focusing on your task at hand as he whined and tried to pinch your cheek. He pouted after a few unsuccessful minutes and frowned, "Aw! You're no fun, (Y/n)-chan!"
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but you did respond to him.
"Sir, don't be misinformed; this relationship is purely professional. I am your agent, you are my client. That is all." You spoke sternly to him as if he were a child, "Now, let's get you ready for that commercial shoot."
Just a client, huh?
Bachira sighs and holds his chest where his heart would be and looks at you with his big yellow puppy dog eyes: "That hurts, (Y/n)! After everything we've been through!"
Again, his attempts were met with silence and he frowned, seeing that you were still focused on your phone. That's not fair, (Y/n), so many people would've absolutely killed to be in your shoes in this moment and you have the audacity to brush him off? Fine, he'll just have to make it clear that there was no one else but you.
- He makes everything difficult for everyone if it doesn't involve you, he's still likeable, but everyone just talks about how he's a bit too energetic to stay still. You can't tell how many times make up crews, directors, and training coaches or even other players had to shyly come up to you and make Bachira comply with their wishes because "he behaves when you're around".
- Many times Bachira tries to make it appear you two are a couple; telling you that he loves you as you do his foundation for his upcoming interviews, excitedly running at you in between commercial breaks to ask you if he did well, and often wanting to take you out for casual outings as celebration but you declined. You didn't want to feed into whatever delusion he had in his head about you two.
- You tried to be a bit personal and suggest he try out some sports modeling, casually mentioning how a current model heart throb was interested in collaborating with him in hopes that it'd be enough to get him to move on but he frowned and shook his head. NO! He's not posing for pictures with anyone, especially not for some random model, if its not you!
- Even though you're in charge of his social media; he will still post pictures of you to his own account, admiring how cute you are when you're in the zone, or just captioning the photo with a simple: "Mine♥️💕" and even though you tell him to delete those photos everytime, you feel a bit uneasy when you realize you didn't even notice him pulling out his phone and getting these photos until he tagged you in them. You just hope he doesn't have anymore photos of you that you didn't know about.
- Bachira is without a doubt obsessive, he gets giddy when you call him because he believes one of these days you'll wake up and realize you love him back just as much, only to be slightly dissapointed when you are merely calling him to discuss contract details. That's fine, though! One of these days you're going to have to face the reality that you two were meant to be together♡
- You're just like him after all! It's just that you want to dominate a different field than him. Your goals are similar, be the best that Japan has to offer, making sure that Bachira succeeds on and off the field helps ensure your own success, and while you didn't want to deal with his annoying behavior all the time; it'd be a foolish choice to quit working for him. You think that he knows that too because he'll always try to test the waters of your relationship, never really believing your threats of switching to a different player.
- Because even if you didn't love him, you needed him, just as he needed you. Surely you'll end up loving him back, though, after all: there was no one else in his eyes besides you. So he'll work hard to be the best, not just for Japan, but for you. Each goal he makes, he looks at you and sees the briefest smile on your face and it drives him wild the rest of the game to keep scoring and scoring.
- Don't think you've tamed the monster inside of him, though. Because it'll never be truly satisfied until it finally has you. All of you.
Shidou:
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"Why're you buying flowers for that asshole?"
You felt a shiver go up your spine, feeling Shidou's sharp chin resting on your shoulder and feeling his warm breath on the back of your right ear, he was still a little sweaty from his daily drills and workouts...technically, he should've been working out still but his fitness coaches knew the moment you stepped into the room that he wouldn't be able to focus on anything but you.
"Technically, you're buying him flowers," You corrected, moving away from him. He raised an eyebrow but kept a deadpan face as you turned around to explain to him, "Shido, you're already controversial. You played way too hard and broke that man's ankle. Sending flowers is the least you could do."
Aw, give him some credit...he could've done a lot worse if he wanted too but he managed to restrain himself from doing that, all for you. Plus, it was entirely the other guy's fault anyways. That asshole was eyeing you up and down when you weren't looking and jokingly told Ryusei that he wished he had an agent that was as hot as you were instead of his current old and grumpy one. Shido knew he had the best things: the best cars, the best shoes, the best career a soccer player could ask for...but you were different. You were one of the things he had that made him the best, flipping his controversies into picturing him as this passionate player whose just motivated to represent his country, but you were meant for only him to admire. Everyone else is allowed to stare at you two with envy and jealously but that's ALL.
"I'm not sending him no damn flowers and neither are you." He scoffed, taking your phone from your hand and canceling the order. You frowned and tried to grab it back from him, he raised it above his head am to force you to reach for it and when you raised one arm and stood on both your tippy toes, he used his free arm to hook it around your waist and pull you close to him. Pining you against the wall, his pink eyes focused on you in a way that a predator would eye its prey.
"Quit thinkin' about some nobody player. You're MY agent."
- Before you, Shidou went through a lot of agents. Agents who quit on the spot because he was impossible to work with, agents who just stormed out of the doors because they couldn't take anymore, agents who still badmouth him to the public and feeding into his reputation.
- Then you walked in through those doors. Steely gazed, chin up and proud. You were cute, that's for sure, but you weren't gonna be any different then the rest of them. At least, thats what he had originally thought. You never lost your mind over the way he played, you never complained about how he was making your job impossible, and you never lost your cool.
- You were a professional at your job, you knew how to make him appeal to the audience and frame him in a better light while also making sure he didn't have to change too much...because he would never change. So you would work with what you had, how did the saying go? There's no such thing as bad publicity.
- Unlike Bachira, you just being there isn't gonna make him behave. If you're gonna make him do some lame ass photoshoot then he better be getting something out of it. At first it was just things like arranging a deal with a brand he liked, setting up a soccer match with some good players only for him to absolutely ruin them. He started to like you because of those things.
- However it escalated one day when he asked for something that took you off gaurd. A kiss. It was for an interview and he refused to let anyone touch him so they all ran crying to you, he instantly looked at you as you put a gentle hand on his shoulder and asked him what he wanted this time so you both could get through this.
- He didn't even really think about it either, he was a little shocked when he said it himself but he was just mesmerized by your lips that he wondered what it'd be like to kiss them. So he wanted to find out. You were flustered, rightfully so and tried to bargain with him but he was dead set on that kiss...oh well...it was one measly kiss. So you kissed his cheek and he frowned, not exactly what he wanted but you did give him what he wanted technically.
- But yeah, that just kinda sparked his obsession with you and his obsession isn't what you should be concerned about. It's his possessive nature, you work for him so you belong to him. He doesn't like you talking to other people most of the time, constantly grabbing your phone and hanging up important calls when the conversation goes somewhere he doesn't like or deems isn't as important as him.
- Shidou knows he doesn't love you but love isn't exactly on either of your radars since your focused on your career, which only does well as long as Shido's does well. It doesn't stop him from looking at you tying his tie for him, imagining you doing something more intimate than a mere kiss on the cheek, to take you out on fancy dates and buy you nice things and all the crap (he's tried before but you always refuse) and when he wakes up in the morning, he wonders how different it would be if you were next to him. He might love you but overall, it's a matter of possession. You belong to him. No one else.
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night-daily · 10 months
Text
Jealousy jealousy | Peter Parker x fem! reader
Summary: 3 times where Peter hears you fangirling over Spiderman and one time he finally explodes.
warnings: none.
a/n: enjoy and let me know if there's any mistakes please!:)
The first time, he overheard you talking to your friends, was an accident, he didn't on purpose it just happens every time he sees you, he has no control over his senses. And he doesn't realize he's eavesdropping until you say something that brings him back to reality.
“... I think he's hot.” whoa, were you talking about him? Nice. “I mean, have you seen how athletic he is?” fuck, it wasn't him. Yeah, he participates in P.E class but he has to pretend he isn't good at it so you or anyone else wouldn't get suspicious. So it couldn't be him.
Peter turned his face away from you, feeling insecure. You were dumping him? Who was this guy?
“Hey, what are we talking about?” One of your friends came to the table you and your friends were eating.
And of course, Peter needed to hear the name of the guy.
''I'm masochistic?''
“Spider man!” You exclaimed with a smirk on your face making your friends groan. His heart stopped for a second. “Again?” Your friend rolled playfully her eyes to you. And you nodded with your head cheerily.
Peter felt his body relax at your words. So you like Spider man uh? Only if you knew Spider man likes you too.
The second time, the two of you are in his room, he sitting at his desk doing homework while you are doing yours in his bed. Well, you got bored doing the homework so now you were just rambling stuff about your classes, your friends, and...
“Hey, have you heard about Spider man?” Peter's body froze. “You know, the Superhero.” He hums in agreement, incapable to make a comment. “I heard some people show up at the crime scenes just to watch him in action.” And Peter dislike that people, they could get hurt and they didn't even care, and for what? just to watch him? “Yeah, that's crazy.” He expected you to agree with him, but you were quiet. “That's crazy, right?” He turns his chair to look at you, but you were avoiding his eyes. “... I don't know, to be honest, I would like to watch him in person too, even a glimpse of him.” Now he was seeing red. Why would you do that? Why would you put your life in danger for someone who you don't even know? Why would you do that for Spider man?
He couldn't help but feel a hole in his chest, it was a heavy and ugly feeling, he had never felt something like that. Jealousy. “What’s so good about him, anyway?” Peter muttered, turning himself, and ignoring the smile that crept across your face.
The third time, you were getting ready to hang out with your friends at the new coffee shop, doing your makeup you saw Peter through the mirror leaning against the doorframe of your room.
“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” your teasing smile sent butterflies to his stomach. “Why would I want a picture? If I have you all for myself.” He came closer to you from behind your back, placing kisses on your naked shoulder. “Oh, you're lucky that I haven't met Spider man then.” He stopped kissing your shoulder “Please, go with him if you like him so much” You turned your face to him. “I'm kidding Pete, I already have you and I love you so much.” You squeezed his hand. “Also, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't notice me, I bet he dates models”
He didn't know why he was more upset, you doubting how beautiful you are or assuming that Spider man wouldn't notice you. But you were wrong in both assumptions.
“You are the fucking prettiest girl I've ever met and anyone would be so lucky to share the same oxygen you breathe because I know I am.” And he smashed your lips, it was a passive-aggressive kiss. “I'm lucky too.”
And the one time he finally explodes, Peter was resting in his bed after a long night patrol when you crossed the door excitedly.
“PETER YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT” Oh, sure he did. “What happened, love?” He played fool. “So, remember when you dropped me at the corner of the street? Well, guess what!?” You made it a short pause not giving him the chance to respond “SPIDER MAN WAS THERE TOO” He gasped. “No way!” You grabbed your phone and unlocked it “AND HE GAVE ME FLOWERS. NOT JUST THAT, TULIPS, MY FAVORITES” You showed him the photos of you and your tulips, you looked so happy and that makes him happy too. “He shouldn’t go after other people’s girlfriends” He half-joked. You laughed “Maybe after all you have a rival” He wasn't smiling anymore “I mean, who gifts tulips to a complete stranger? Maybe he likes me? OH MY GOD, SPIDER MAN LIKES ME! WOULD YOU IMAGINE US TOGE-” “Babe, I'm Spider man!” Peter cuts you off. He couldn't stand anymore hear you falling for Spider man. But how would you react? Would you hate him for keeping it secret?
“I knew it!” He was shocked “Wait, what?” you shrugged “Honey, you aren't that subtle.” Now, if you knew it, why you had never told anything to him? “I never told you anything because I kind of enjoy you being like this and I want to know how much you could take it before admitting you were jealous and you were Spider man.” Peter blushed “I never would have thought I’d ever be jealous about me.” You winked at him “Oh, jealousy looks good on you.”
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sasayego · 3 days
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Heyyy…. May i request a wife reader x dick grayson… she is mad at him and is giving him a silent treatment, but he is so done with this that he starts annoying her by saying Mrs. Grayson after every sentense and closing tightly lids
anon this is so adorable. i am going feral. also i am so severely sorry for my IA-ness.
tags — just overall fluff. some light swearing
In hindsight, you should've known that this would entail not just dating, but also marrying a vigilante. How could someone blame you, anyways? You were sitting at home, about to go to bed, when Nightwing crashed into your apartment after being chucked across the city by some villain or the other.
He had a major concussion. You didn't know how to treat thrown vigilantes who definitely had a couple of broken ribs and a torn ACL.
What you did know was how to comfort a man who was clearly in pain, who was trying to stifle his screams, because let's face it, the vigilante life should clearly not be glamorized.
He felt bad for the wreckage in your apartment. Every week, there'd be thousands of dollars at your doorstep from him, ready to pay it off. He had to be rich. There was no way he was giving your entire salary in four months and a half.
Eventually, you figured out his secret identity. And instead of being angry about it, Dick Grayson felt awfully in love with a girl who was as intelligent as he hoped she'd be. Sure she wasn't a supermodel, but she made him laugh. She made him think. She wasn't easy to get along with at times, but she made him better.
Three years later, he put a ring on it.
"I told you," you snapped, "you just keep going in stupid situations, and normally, I wouldn't mind, but it's like you refuse my help or anyone else's."
Dick knew he had a really bad hero complex. He couldn't stand anyone else getting hurt because of his issues. "I can handle it," he responded. "And isn't it just annoying that you've been mad at me for the past two days? Can't you just give it a rest?"
"I'll give it a rest when you start accepting help from others," you responded, your brows furrowing. "God, you're so—you're so—ugh!"
Dick rolled his eyes and then smirked at you, that stupid boyish smirk that made your heart tingle and everything else disappear. "I'm so what, sweetheart? What am I, Mrs. Grayson?"
You glared at him. "Dick!" You huffed, both saying his name and the insult. "That's it. I want a cooling down period. Leave me and the kitchen alone!"
He grinned, looking back at you, a mischievous glance in his eye. "Oh, I will, Mrs. Grayson. I will."
* * *
Making dinner was one of your forms of therapy. Dick was starting to go out for patrol, much to your distaste, no doubt about to pick a fight with someone who would give him considerable damage.
You didn't want him to go, you wanted to keep him here and kiss him forever, but he would leave anyways. It's my moral duty to the people of Bludhaven to keep them safe, he had said to you one night. I could never bring it to myself to disappoint these people. To make them unsafe. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure people are as safe as can be.
And though you really disliked it, you knew that was one of the core reasons why you were so undoubtedly in love with him.
You turned around to grab the jar of pickles, still steaming from the fight, only to find that it was incredibly hard to open.
"What. The. Hell?" You hissed. You had opened it up just a day ago, and put it easily back, making sure it wasn't that hard.
Your face turned red and you looked at it again before trying to open it up, straining and groaning, only for your muscles to give out. There was only one explanation for this.
Your stupid, lovable, husband.
And after a few minutes of recollecting your pride, you stomped over to your bedroom where he was dressing. He was in the midst of putting the top half of his suit on, and your mouth turned a little dry when you saw him shirtless.
You were pretty sure that when the first time you saw him shirtless, literal heart eyes came out of your eyes. You gawked for a couple of seconds, admiring the contour of his muscles, only for him to turn around and smirk at you.
He knew what you were doing. Dammit.
"Hi, Mrs. Grayson," he teased. "Enjoying the view?"
"Shut up," you snapped, and held out the jar. "Open this up right now and stop screwing with my jars."
He smirked at you. "What's the magic word?"
"The magic word is 'I will beat you up if you don't open the jar up right now'," you responded, glaring at him. "Now. Open."
He laughed, tossing his head back, his voice echoing off the room before taking the jar. You watched intently as his triceps flexed when he opened the jar up with ease and returned it back.
"Thank you," you said, your voice having an edge to it. You were about to turn around before he grabbed you by the arm.
"What, no good luck kiss?" Dick asked huskily in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine.
"Even if I give you one, you'll still end up badly injured."
"C'mon," he murmured, planting a light kiss on your neck, his hands dancing on your waist. He squeezed your sides slightly. "I always fight better when my girl kisses me."
You looked up at him and snorted. "In your dreams," you responded, but he took this moment to crash his lips against you. You felt dizzy and couldn't help but to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
When the both of you stopped, he laughed, looking at you breathless, his blue eyes twinkling in the night sky.
"Knew you couldn't be mad at me for that long, Mrs. Grayson."
"Shut up," you grumbled, punching his shoulder lightly. "Go save Bludhaven, Boy Wonder."
He stepped out the window and then turned back at him, smirking. "You know I am, sweetheart. And when I come back, I'm gonna finish what I started."
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sserpente · 7 months
Text
What makes a Loki a Loki?
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Synopsis: Every time the TVA annihilates a timeline in order to “fix” the universe, Variants get left behind. Variants who then get taken to the TVA to be either brainwashed or pruned, deleted from existence. But not you. Not those who fight back. As part of a rebellion against the ruthless time police, you live a life on the run, a life as a nomad, dedicating yourselves to one goal: To destroy the TVA just like it intends to destroy you. Nothing could have prepared you for the God of Mischief himself to interfere with those plans. So what happens when he finds out that in order to protect yourself, you pretended to be a Loki yourself?
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A/N: *tiptoes in quietly, gently puts the oneshot on your dashboard, tiptoes out again* This should have been posted weeks ago. I’m so sorry. I was in a writing slump and then I neglected it altogether because I was playing Baldur’s Gate 3 literally non-stop. Also threw in a request from @jazziefeybaby as it fit really well here, you’ll see! ;) SO, WHO IS EXCITED FOR SEASON 2 BECAUSE I AM!
Words: 4421 Warnings: semi-public smut
You skittered around the corner into a narrow alley. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Barbed wire, right in front of you. You didn’t slow down and took a deep breath instead. As soon as you were close enough, you jumped, pushing yourself off the brick wall with one foot to grab the very top of the wire. Pain rippled through your palm, a sticky wetness almost making you lose your grip but you pushed through and pulled yourself up.
With a lot more grace than you would have expected from yourself, you landed and kept on running. The man who was chasing you looked familiar but, being more concerned with your survival, you hadn’t taken the luxury of studying his face. He seemed more skilled, faster than the others.
You’d still outrun him. You knew these streets well enough to find your way about blindly. And that was exactly the reason why you came to a halt with a start, surprised and shocked to find the man chasing you appear right in front of you. Your eyes widened. For just a split second, you allowed yourself to take in his features.
Long black hair, a sharp jawline and cheekbones to die for, thin lips, and piercing blue eyes… there was no doubt. You had seen this man before. But it couldn’t be…
You turned on your heel, ready to bolt in the opposite direction when you saw the strange man charge toward you yet again. An illusion. The man who had appeared in front of you was an illusion…
“Nice try, you fucker…” you muttered. You turned yet again, running off. It wasn’t until you saw the illusion flicker and solidify that you realised your mistake. A groan escaped your lips when you collided with a hard chest, all air knocked from your body. The recoil threw you off balance and you tumbled to the hard asphalt, hurting your already bleeding palms further. They were burning like hell, adding to your anger. He had teleported. That fucker had teleported.
You glared at the questionable TVA agent, ripping off the black mask covering your face from the nose down. He had you. For now, it was game over. “Who the hell are you?”
The stranger’s lips parted, a frown growing on his face. He was about to speak up when you were joined by another TVA agent with grey hair and a moustache. He slowed down, out of breath entirely.
“Well done, Loki.” Loki. “T-take her,” he continued then, waving at the Minutemen in their silly armour. You growled when they grabbed you by the collar and pulled you back on your feet, fastening one of those ridiculous time displacement collars around you.
They had to drag you through the time door they opened all the while Loki kept on watching you in silence… and, if you were not mistaken, fascination.
“Take her to the interrogation rooms, I’ll be right with you,” the TVA agent with the moustache announced. Loki led the way and the Minutemen holding on to your arms to keep you in check retreated. You would have called them fools if you hadn’t witnessed a live demonstration of Loki’s powers only a moment ago. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
“Sit,” he said upon entering the room, pointing to a table with three chairs—one on one side, the other two on the opposite side. You rolled your eyes. The only reason you did as you were told, so you told yourself, was because your feet were tired from all the running, and thus made a point of it by crossing your arms before your chest.
“If you think I’m going to tell you anything at all, you’re a fool.”
Loki scoffed. “We’ll see about that,” he said, narrowing his blue eyes at you. “Let’s start with something easy. What’s your name? You already know mine by now. I am Loki, of Asgard.”
It was truly one of him then. You would have laughed out loud if it wasn’t for your fucked-up situation. So you told him your name coldly. A nickname, no last name. He didn’t deserve that information yet.
“Look, the more you resist, the harder you are going to make this for yourself. I know from personal experience. They can be quite brutal.”
“Oh, I know. That’s why we’ve been running from them.  And yet…” You smiled at him mockingly. “Here you are, right among them, wearing a TVA uniform.”
“Desperate circumstance,” was all he replied. “It’s complicated.”
It was on you to scoff this time.
“I understand that your group has been wanted by the TVA for a while now. Why? Who are you? Why are they hunting you down?” He stared at you for a few moments. It was like a game at this point. Who would blink first?
“Shit, you really don’t know, do you? They didn’t tell you a thing. Shouldn’t surprise me.”
Loki leaned back. “Tell me.”
“You’re serious,” you spat. “They recruited you to chase us and you don’t even know of the crimes we’ve allegedly committed?”
The God of Mischief remained silent. You had him—for now.
“So? What is a Loki Variant doing working with the TVA of all horrible corporations then? What desperate circumstances prompted you to team up with the enemy?”
“Mobius is not an enemy.”
You shrugged. “He is to me.”
The God of Mischief appeared to think about it for a moment. It was like he was contemplating whether you were telling the truth. Just before you could offer him another snarky remark, however, the TVA agent in question entered the room, breaking the intense eye contact between the two of you for just a fraction of a second.
He sat down as if this was a casual business meeting, fixing his tie in the process. “Any luck yet?”
“Define luck,” Loki said without taking his eyes off of you.
“Well… Loki has probably told you by now but I’m Agent Mobius. And listen, let me make one thing clear. You don’t wanna get on Loki’s bad side.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“Maybe. It could be. Or you could just tell us what you know.”
“And then die anyway? Or turn into a brainless TVA agent like you? No. I’d rather keep my dignity and my pride before I kick the bucket.”
Mobius sighed. “Who is your leader?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“How many of you are there?”
“More than one, clearly.”
You smirked all the while Loki kept glaring at you as if he was trying to figure you out. Which he probably was.
“You’re not going to leave this place either way. But if you cooperate now, then I can make sure to make this more comfortable for you, alright?”
“What? So you won’t wipe my memory, perhaps? Hire me like a puppet? Like him?” You nodded at Loki with your chin. “I’d rather die a slow and painful death.”
Much to your surprise though, Mobius smirked with a start. “Does she remind you of someone?”
Loki did not take his eyes off of you for a second. “Yes. Indeed she does.”
“You don’t think she could be…”
“One of me? Doubtfully. She has no powers or if she does, she was very good at hiding them.”
You frowned, overwhelmed by sudden hot flush. There was no way he could guess that…  “Powers? What are you on about?”
“Who are they, exactly? This group she belongs to,” Loki asked, ignoring you entirely.
“We call them time breakers. Rebels whose only purpose is to kill—us.”
You scoffed. “Wow, you really believe that, don’t you?”
“Oh, were you not trying to kill me back there?”
“I was. And I would try again. But not for the whitewashed reason you believe I would.”
Mobius sighed. “We understand that there is a small group of you here in Manhattan. Why don’t you tell us where your friends are? We could… help.”
“No,” you said dryly, crossing your arms before your chest again.
Mobius sighed once more. “Okay, you know what, let’s continue this tomorrow. See if you’re more approachable after a good night’s sleep. Then you can get patched up too,” he said, pointing at your injured hands.
“Hardly. Hope is a tedious thing.”
The TVA agent ignored your comment. “Thanks for your help today, Loki. Will you take her to the cells? Just in case she tries something.”
You rolled your eyes and stood, too proud to be dragged about again. Right before you could make your way to the door, however, Loki grabbed your arm. “There is something else.”
“What?”
“You looked at me like you recognised me.”
“I did not,” you said quickly. “Clearly I did not.”
You could only hope that the God of Lies himself would fall for your words, for he could not know under any circumstances that this man, the infamous leader of the time breakers… was a Loki too.
Loki led you to the cells without a word. One of the Minutemen guarding it opened one of them for you to step in, seemingly used to agents bringing in new prisoners without asking questions. But unlike what you expected, Loki entered the cell with you.
“Comfy,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “But I actually have a bed. Perhaps I’ll like it here after all.”
“We’re alone now. You recognised me. Don’t deny it.” Damn it.
You rolled your eyes, anxiety rippling through you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes. You do.”
You scoffed. “Do you wanna know why they’re really hunting us, Loki?”
He waited for you to continue. “It’s because they fucked up. You know how they destroy entire timelines, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, some of us didn’t take kindly to being… annihilated, to be wiped from existence. One of us… one of us was the first, he got away and he came for others, taking them under his wing and building an army with but one goal—to bring down everything the TVA stands for. I’m what they call a Variant, Loki. I’m just trying to survive. And if that means that I have to destroy those who aim to destroy me, I will. You of all people should know.”
“Me?”
You scoffed once more. “You’re a Variant too, aren’t you? It’s as clear as daylight.” You knew he was, so the question was a rhetorical one. He looked just like him, only this Loki… this Loki right before you, he seemed… softer. Gentler. He was just as handsome of course and yet… there was something about him that attracted you to the point it scared you.
“So there you have it. You captured me for a death sentence—but you already know that. They’re never gonna let me go. According to them, I shouldn’t exist. And I’d rather live a life on the run rather than become a mindless soldier like the others. Like you,” you spat. You’d attempted to despise him in the interrogation room. You just… couldn’t.
Loki swallowed. He studied you quietly for a moment and sat down on the edge of the small desk in the cell.
“I’m just like you,” you repeated. “You should be joining me, us, instead of working with them.”
“You don’t know Mobius like I know him. He is not a bad person.”
“Oh yeah?”
“No. He is not what you think he is.” His blue eyes darkened, yours widening when he stepped closer to you.
“Don’t you think we both know how corrupt the TVA is? I understand. I understand your pain and I understand your anger. You don’t have a home. Mobius and I, we can give you one. Not here at the TVA, not as an agent. But in order for us to do that, you have to tell us what you know. Some Variants, they are… dangerous. That Variant who leads you...”
You gnashed your teeth, meeting his piercing gaze. Perhaps that was your mistake. You swallowed.
Loki’s face fell. “He’s a Loki…”
“What?”
“He’s a Loki, is he not?”
You tightened your jaw, remaining silent.
“So that is why you recognised me.”
Oh, fuck it. “Well, unlike you, he truly is a saviour, Loki.”
You didn’t know what to expect from him after that. But certainly not that he would sigh, turn around… and leave the cell, leaving you behind pondering over what the hell had just happened.
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He knew. Not just about you following another Loki but also… the effect that he had on you. Both of them. Mobius had kept his so-called promise. You were not going anywhere. Day in and out, they asked you more questions you refused to answer and even started taking you out on the field with them in the hopes you’d sooner or later provide useful information to them. You were on edge, constantly.
The more time you spent with him, the more Loki made you feel things you’d never thought possible. He might have figured out that he was not the first Variant you were dealing with—but he had still not yet found out how you had managed to survive that well.
It was an accomplishment you were rather proud of. The double deception had you reel with excitement and even superiority, for they were desperate for your secrets. Desperate. That’s what they truly were. Both Mobius, Loki, and the entire TVA were reaching for straws at this point. They needed all the help they could get—perhaps that was why you were still alive. Perhaps that was why they hadn’t turned you into a mindless agent. Or perhaps Loki had convinced them to keep you just the way you were.
You had seen the way he looked at you when he thought you didn’t notice. There was a silent admiration in his blue gaze whenever you caught him, along with an urge you hadn’t quite been able to place until you started spending more time together. It was desire. Carnal desire. And whatever connection there was between you, he was giving in to it.
It became a game all too soon. The subtle looks, the dancing around one another—wondering, preying on who would cave first. Sex was not off the table, you had realised that much. Neither of you needed to speak the word to agree that this was inevitably what your odd relationship would lead to. It was a circumstance Mobius had not failed to notice.
“I digress… is there something you want from me?” The man Mobius had managed to track down wasn’t quite part of your group. In fact, he’d tried to kill you before he had realised who you were, or rather… who you had pretended to be.
You kept in the background, quiet and observing, ensuring the slimy git wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your face. You didn’t even know his name.
“You’re hiding something,” Loki whispered with a start.
You flinched. His breath was a little too close for your liking. He enjoyed doing that, so you’d realised. Creeping up on you, catching you off guard like he was a predator and you were his prey.
“No shit?”
“I’m not talking about the Time Breakers. You know this man. Who is he?”
Frowning, you took a step back only to collide with a pillar. Damn it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Instead of responding, Loki nudged you forward—and right into view of the git as you lost your balance and tumbled a little.
“You? Shit, they’re with you? I’m… I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I apologise.”
“He’s afraid of you,” Loki stated with wonder in his voice.
You rolled your eyes. “What? Is that so unbelievable?”
“Actually, yes.”
“You don’t mess with a Loki,” the git responded for you.
You gnashed your teeth in response when Loki narrowed his eyes at him. Lucky for you, however, he appeared to think the git was referring to him rather than you.
“I’m sorry… a what?” His confused expression almost made you laugh but then again, the situation was rather sinister. “I‘m a Loki. I am Loki. Not her.”
Mobius clocked it first; and you were overcome with the overwhelming urge of wanting to wipe the shit-eating grin from his face fast.
“Ask her,” he said.
“Ask her what?”
“Ask her how she survived this long. Ask her why she has the respect of her leader.”
Loki raised his eyebrows. His blue gaze travelled over to you as if to silently pass on the question.
When you didn’t say anything, Mobius chuckled. “She’s pretending to be you, Loki. She’s pretending to be a Variant. That’s why Marcus here is so terrified.”
“Oh, Marcus? That’s what the slimy git is called?” Changing the topic did not work in your favour. Loki did not let it go.
“Thanks,” Marcus murmured.
Loki, on the other hand, remained unfazed. “You were pretending to be me?”
“Not you. One of you. A goddess of Mischief. It worked quite well for some time. It was his idea, actually.”
“So you were hiding this under my nose this entire time?” Loki smirked—certainly not the reaction you had expected from him. You’d assumed he’d lash out or feel deeply offended or perhaps both. Instead, you sensed pride.
“You’re taking this a lot calmer than I assumed you would.”
His smirk grew even wider—eerily so, almost. “I am flattered, darling.”
“You’re what now?”
“Well, I must say, it’s quite an impressive disguise. Tell me, did you wear something more flattering whenever you pretended to be me?”
“Oh fuck off.”
“Lokis have style, dear. Dressed like this I might have a hard time believing you.” Your heart skipped a beat when he winked. The way your body reacted pissed you off enough to growl.
“Are we done here? You got what you came for. The git doesn’t know anything else.”
“Wait! I know something. I know where her leader is currently hiding.” Marcus pointed at you.
“I can assure you, you do not,” you interrupted, crossing your arms before your chest.
“The docks, head to the docks! There’s a warehouse there, and it comes with a basement. There’s a hatch to the left of the south entrance. That’s where you’ll find him.”
You wished that Loki wasn’t as perceptive as he was when he noticed you stiffening—and perhaps, that was all both he and Mobius needed to know to confirm the git was telling the truth.
You stormed out before either of them could comment. You had to go back. You had to warn him. The Loki you were with now, you hated to admit that you trusted him. Hel, you even trusted Mobius now—but their cause? You didn’t trust that. Nothing good would come out of confronting the very Loki Variant who had helped keep you alive all this time… right? You owed him that.
You could swear that you heard Loki sigh when you took off, almost as if he didn’t take your attempt to escape seriously. You scoffed at the thought. He’d tricked you once before, he wouldn’t easily be able to pull the same maneuver on you again.
You left the main street fast, diving into a narrower side alley dimly lit by the street lanterns. It was getting dark out—that would make it easier for you to blend in with the shadows. Rapidly moving shadows, too.
Loki was right behind you. Even without turning around, you could practically feel him. His energy, his… his magic?
You gasped when you tripped over something seemingly invisible only to find a horned shadow gliding across the brick wall to your left. It was his shadow. He was making his shadow attack you. Before you were able to react, it wrapped its arm around your waist, ramming you against the wall. You hissed in pain.
“What the fuck!”
Pressed against the bricks, the invisible grip around your neck tightened immediately.
“I don’t think so, dear,” Loki purred. Annoyingly enough, he wasn’t even slightly out of breath. He narrowed his eyes at you as he approached you without a care in the world, the tension between you tripling. You struggled against the invisible bonds, unable to budge an inch. Within the twinkling of an eye, he was right in front of you, his hands replacing the shadowy shackles.
He was almost… surprised when he felt it too. Almost as if the constant banter, the unintentional flirting, and all those longing glances would not have led to this very outcome. And then, you could see it in his blue eyes, he realised that he’d won this game of seduction the two of you had been playing without ever setting the rules.
To hel with the other Loki. To hel with the git, to hel with Mobius, wherever he was. Loki was consuming you. Perhaps he already had a very long time ago when you had taken up on your leader’s advice and pretended to be a Variant yourself to keep yourself safe.
His kiss caught you off guard nonetheless, igniting you from the inside out. You moaned into his mouth, all of the bottled-up desire for this man unleashed at once. It felt like you were meant to be kissing, like you were supposed to become his all along.
Loki was met with no objection when he slid his slim fingers under your shirt, swayed by his own longing for you. You only pulled away when he lifted the skirt the TVA had given you to wear, his thumbs hooking under the hem of your knickers.
“You’re not going to fuck me in public!” you hissed, your resistance bleeding away more with every passing moment.
“Such vulgar language… did they truly believe you were a Loki with this mouth?”
“Oh, fuck off!”
Instead, he kissed you once more, pressing you against the wall even further until you gasped for air. That was it—the moment you were done for, taken in by his dominance and submitting, much to your dismay, willingly.
You jumped, wrapping your arms around his middle and holding on all the while he all but yanked the belt off of his TVA trousers, pushing them down just far enough to reveal the growing bulge between his legs. He’d kept his Asgardian underwear—but for now, it was in the way. The moan that escaped your lips the moment you finally felt his hard cock against your pussy lips to test your wetness was unholy if anything.
You had to press your face against his neck to stop yourself from crying out when he sheathed himself inside of you with but one swift thrust. Loki’s groans were heavenly—you could tell it took him every fibre of his being to not lose his composure even though right now… that was all you wanted. For him to fuck you like he meant it.
You threw your head back when he withdrew only to rut back into you, finding a rhythm that had your eyes roll to the back of your head. You didn’t have much time for this, of course. You weren’t keen on getting caught, especially not by Mobius.
And gods, he was screwing you good… working out that tension between you with every single stroke. It felt so right you could burst as you clung to him, inviting him even deeper both physically and mentally. Right now, in this very moment, you were his—and you were rather certain that he was yours. Where you’d go from there, you did not know but that didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was his warm dick sliding in and out of you, making you see stars—and doubling the frustration when he slowed down with a start.
“Why are you… stopping?”
“It’s been a while…” He smirked against your lips.
“Don’t hold back on my account. You’re a prince—I expect you know how to make it worthwhile for your partners.”
Loki growled in response and you knew then and there that he’d accepted your challenge. He ground against you, circling his hips, hitting pleasure spots hidden deep inside of you. He riled you up further and further, almost possessed by the idea of giving you pleasure before he took his own.
Your back was hurting at this point, the rough wall against your skin close to drawing blood. You didn’t care. You wanted more. More of him.
The God of Mischief picked up his speed again, burying his face in your neck now and inhaling your scent deeply—his little grunts had you dig your fingernails into his TVA jacket, and fuck, you never wanted this moment to end.
Faster and faster, Loki brought you closer to shattering into a million pieces. How the hell that was possible, you had no idea—the man had not even touched your clit, and yet, you were about to… gods, you were about to…
You cried out his name when you came, clenching around his cock repeatedly. Your toes curled as you milked him for all he was worth, triggering his own release fast.
With one final stroke, he buried himself inside of you as deep as he could before coating the inside of your pussy with his seed, his member jerking against your walls. And then—silence. Comfortable, relaxing silence.
You whimpered at the loss of him when he withdrew, set you back on the ground, and took a step back, his magic ensuring to make you both look presentable again.
“Thanks. Well, I certainly feel better now…” you muttered.
Loki smirked. “So do I. Well then. Shall we?” He offered you his arm, presumably to take you back to Mobius.
“You’re not…” Panting, you caught your breath for a moment. “You’re not really going to side with the TVA for this, are you?”
Loki sighed. “No. But I won’t let you destroy the TVA either. As much as I hate to say it, we need them—as strategic allies, if anything.”
“Spoken like a true king, huh?”
The God of Mischief narrowed his eyes a little, smirking down at you. “I wonder what else you have learned about me through this other… Loki.”
“More than you think.” You paused. “What about Mobius?”
“Mobius I trust with my life, pet.” Pet. Oh, for Heaven’s sake… “Don’t you worry.”
You wouldn’t. Not about this anyway. For now, you’d worry about not falling in love with him.
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A/N: And sceeene! Keep an eye on my socials, will you? I’ll be seeing the first 2 episodes of Season 2 at the BFI on the 5th and I’ll be doing the TVA Experience on the 7th! I’m so hyped! I simply must share it with you all! Also if you’re in London and you see me there… COME SAY HI!
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finelinevogue · 1 year
Note
just an idea, but what about the fact that harry has fine line on the setlist… 👀
just remember it’s all your decision and what your up for writing
Xx
fine line kisses
you made me cry writing this cause i had fine line playing in the background too🥹
word count: +1.5k
pairing: boyfriend!harry x reader
You were stood to the side of the stage when it happened.
Harry was on stage and about to finish his last song before the encore and you were ready to greet him with a loving kiss for all his hard work so far.
Just as you watched him finish up Watermelon Sugar, he walks to the side of the stage opposite to you and you wonder whether he's forgotten which side of the stage to come off from. However when you see him pick up his galaxy and cat painted guitar you begin to wonder what he is up to.
Harry walks over to the microphone as the crowd softens their deafening cheers to see what he has to say next.
"How are we doing Denmark?" He asks again, always checking in on his fans to make sure they're all still alright.
The crowd screams and settles down as Harry strums one random chord on his guitar, probably to check that it is working.
"This next song wasn't planned until about an hour ago. It's one that means a lot to me and I am aware it means a lot to all of you too." He pauses to let the screams deafen the stadium, as people begin to guess what song is going to be played next. "Tonight, though, I am playing this song for my girlfriend. This is Fine Line."
The familiar strum of chords sounds through the stadium and you have to keep yourself from letting your legs collapse beneath you.
Your eyes water at the mere first few strums of the guitar and your gaze doesn't falter from your boyfriend on stage.
This was not real.
It was hard to comprehend that he was finally playing Fine Line at a show that you were in attendance of. You always go on about it being his best song and how it means so much to you, but you never thought he would so openly declare that.
The fans would thank you later.
Throughout the whole song you sway your body gently and cup your hands together over your mouth. The tears don't stop falling as you quietly sing along with him. In a stadium full of thousands it just feels like you and him in this moment.
The crowd looks beautiful with their flashlights on and the lights in the stadium are dimmed to pink. The ambience is unforgettable.
Harry's vocals are something magical to behold too. He has never pushed himself to sing notes he finds difficult, just in case his voice breaks or gets hurts, but tonight he pushes all those boundaries. He sings in a higher key for the second verse and the crowd cheer because of it. You nod your head silently as you watch him present the best performance of his career.
With the horns too, the music is something else.
By the end of the song where it is just the instrumental you are fully crying and your body is shaking as you sob. The makeup that you had put on is no, no doubt, smudged all over your face.
"Thank you. Thank you so much." Harry repeats as he holds his hand of his heart and air-kisses all of his fans.
And before you know it, he is running off backstage to the wing that you're stood in.
You walk backwards as he runs towards you and the rest of his team. They all clap and cheer for him, just as the audience is. He only had three minutes before he has to go back onstage for the encore.
When he catches sight of you he can't help but frown. He walks over to you with his arms open wide. You, however, walk back away from him.
"No. Don't even..." You shake your head, still crying.
If he touches you now, you may never stop crying because of how much love you have for him. It'll all come to fruition with one hug.
"Baby, don't be silly. You need a hug." He chuckles as you still won't let him near you.
"No. You have ruined me. Look at me!" Your tone of voice shows Harry that you are only joking, but he still wants to be near you just in case a small part of you is genuinely sad.
"You look beautiful."
"I am a mess, no thanks to you." You let out a strained groan as you try to compose yourself.
"Was my performance that bad?" He teases, standing in front of you but no longer trying to touch you. He didn't want to overwhelm you.
"Fuck off." You give him a sarcastic glare. "You know it was good. Better than good, actually. And I'm... fuck... I'm really p-proud of you a-and I love you." You begin to cry again.
"Y/N, baby..." He says quietly.
"Ugh you're so annoying. Why am I crying?" You laugh in joke.
Harry laughs too, dimples out from smiling so hard. He never thought that his music could impact someone this much, but it makes him feel alive to see someone react so emotionally to his music.
"You're allowed to cry, babe, it's fine. You're alright."
"Don't even go saying things like that right now. It's too soon." You point a glare at him as you breathe to cool down.
"Okay, take some deep breathes with me. In, one, two, three and out, one, two three.." Harry repeats with you, stepping a little closer to you each time.
By the seventh count he has managed to wrap his arms around you, one around your waist to pull you infinitely close, and the other to cup around your head protectively as you rest it on his chest. You've stopped crying and he can tell your sadness is dissipating with every second he holds you.
"I love you so much." He says against your head, kissing the crown of your head a couple of times. He feels your arms squeeze around his waist in response.
"I love you too." Your response is muffled, since you're buried so deep into the softness of his chest.
"Sorry I made you cry." He laughs and you feel his chest moving from his laughter.
“Sorry I’m a blubbering mess.”
"It's okay. You can cry as much as you want, because I'll always be here to give you a hug."
"You'll set me off again if you're not careful." You warn him, before he says anything more smushy.
He laughs a giggle that makes you happy to hear, "Sorry."
"H! Thirty seconds!" Someone shouts to him.
You pull away from him. Harry reaches up to your eyes to wipe underneath any mascara debris. He smiles as he does so, making you smile in return.
"Beautiful." He reminds you.
"I love you." You remind him.
"I love you too." He smiles, "And stay right here, okay? I want to run straight off this stage, after, and proper kiss you. Don't leave me."
"You'll get your post-concert kiss, H." You nod knowingly, because he never misses it.
"It's all I'll be thinking about."
You blow him an air kiss in anticipation of the real one, which he catches and pretends to pocket until he can really get to kiss you.
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sebastianswallows · 21 days
Text
The Little Death — 3. Strengthen what they would prohibit
— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader
— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.
— WARNINGS: just a bit of smut
— WORDCOUNT: 2k
— TAGLIST: @elf-punk @lowlyloved @pomtherine​ @localravenclaw​
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Laws to suppress tend to strengthen what they would prohibit. — Bene Gesserit Coda
Sleeping was sweet. At some point indistinguishable from oblivion she became aware of not being aware of being asleep, but she wasn’t ready to wake up yet. The tendrils of her mind touched only shyly the membrane on the other side of which reality was waiting. And even though her feet were cold and her head felt heavy, she felt as though she was floating in the air, held by some invisible force in perfect safety.
A sense of urgency tugged at her, and with reluctance she let herself be pulled. Gradually she realised that her neck hurt from the awkward pose she’d fallen asleep in. That she was sitting on the floor, her legs curled under her and stiff. That his hands were feeling up her body.
Her eyes opened to the sight of her new master sitting on his knees before her. Feyd was still completely naked, and his body dared to have a rosy flush from sleep across his pale white skin. He held a knife to her, slicing through her shift to part it from her body, smiling as if he was opening a gift. He paused at her chest and slid his hand across her skin — the one that wasn’t holding the blade, mercifully — and gently cupped her breast, holding it in such a way that her nipple was caught between his index and his thumb. A practised hand. She reacted before her body rebelled and responded to him.
“Get off of me,” she hissed, and in one motion she slapped his groping hand away and gripped the knife out of the other.
He looked at her in excitement for a moment, or perhaps his mind had not caught up to things and was still tasting her body. She flung the blade away before she could find out which. Feyd pouted like a spoiled brat.
“Yesterday, you agreed that —”
“I’m a Bene Gesserit, not a concubine,” she said as she pulled the tatters of the shift around her and moved further away.
Feyd was still processing the novel information that there was a difference when he got up to his feet. She busied herself with her ruined clothes and tried to ignore that his cock was right in front of her. He looked down and seemed a few times to want to say something, or ask, but then his mind was made up and he walked right past her. Oh, he just went to pick up his blade.
She took this opening to move away and gathered up her clothes.
“Won’t you dress me?” he asked, turning to her with a puzzled expression.
“No,” she said, plain as can be, and slipped into the washroom. She only caught him muttering something about her being useless as she shut the door.
He was gone by the time she came out again.
It crossed her mind that she might have hurt his feelings. After all, he can’t have been used to women slapping his attention away like that. He’d even been fairly considerate, for a Harkonnen. No blood drawn.
But in hindsight, she recognised her instincts were correct. She was the kind of toy he’d never had before. Nobody had ever treated him that way, and now he was going to spend the whole day trying to understand his own emotions, spilling his poison on the other staff no doubt.
She walked through the palace with newfound confidence, and even when eyes turned to her, followed her quick steps and the flowing of her gown, nobody dared question her. Quite efficient in communications, these Harkonnen. They already know who I am, she thought with reserved admiration.
Her first stop was the laundry to replace her ruined clothes and get a couple more. She would need them, living with Feyd-Rautha, it seemed. She ate later, quickly and in the most unassuming part of the canteen. Arrakeen gruel with a Harkonnen twist, dry and oily with a sprinkling of melange on top. It stuck in her throat and there was only cactus juice to wash it down with.
It was only during her noon meditations, on a lonely rock outside the southern wing, that the impact of everything that happened finally came upon her. She shivered terribly, felt tears bead at the corners of her eyes, and breathed deeply to steady her pulse. Fear had passed through her, and death, and she was still left standing. It was a very precise part she had to play, and for all her training and prescience, the spice could only show her certain futures.
Rejecting his touches had been the right choice. Refusing to look at his body had been the right choice too. She teased both him and herself, and the natural energies that flowed between men and women would do half the work for her, especially with such an excitable specimen as Feyd-Rautha to work with. Now all she needed to do was reward him.
She thought back to his nightmares, those twitches and struggles in the dark, alone, and she remembered the instincts of her body: to hold him, to comfort him, to feel his naked skin on hers and let them melt into each other. She smiled, thankful for the infinite genetic wisdom, guiding her path through this most dangerous of circumstances, because now she knew exactly what Feyd wanted.
“Terra firma,” she said to herself. “Something firm and unyielding. Capable of giving him both punishment and pleasure.”
She waited for him in his chambers by the window, sewing that morning’s ruined shift. Her mind was split between that task and meditation, letting her consciousness drift through the environment, expanding to the outer halls. There was a slight commotion in the hidden room next door, and she felt the unmistakable presence of Feyd there. He wasn’t alone. But he felt happy, confident, but with some restraint still in his manner. She could hardly grasp the threads of his thoughts before he moved too far away from her senses.
He entered the room not long after, stopping in the doorway when he saw her there.
She held his gaze, allowing her eyes to say nothing while his told her everything. He was apprehensive, excited, fearful, and fought against an inner urge to see in her a motherly figure — after all, she’d chosen to be seen sitting quietly in the pale light sewing quite on purpose. Her lips were set in a line that wasn’t yet a smile.
He shut the door behind him with finality and walked toward her.
“I hope you had a good day, my lord na-Baron,” she said, getting up to her feet to lightly bow.
“We started harvesting the spice again today,” said Feyd. “The first batches have already started filling the silos.”
He wanted to be praised…
“A great achievement. Your uncle must be pleased,” she smiled.
“Well, he’s always been easy to satisfy.”
Feyd stopped before her and shamelessly looked down her figure. He smelled of sand and sunlight, and a hint of cinnamon. She could almost feel the warmth radiating from his suit. Without asking, he reached for her hand that held the needle and let his finger trace its length. It fell off the sharp tip without breaking his skin.
“Fixing what I broke this morning?” he chuckled.
“Yes. I have the impression there will be many more mornings like that.”
“Not if you do as I say,” he rasped.
“I can not sleep naked as you do. The nights in Arrakeen are too cold.”
“Funny,” he said with a playful tilt of his head and a smile. “You didn’t seem to mind seeing me. Yet I can’t see you?”
She hardened her expression deliberately, chastisement evident in her every muscle. “No,” she answered.
He nodded and tried in other ways to seem indifferent, but he couldn’t hold it up for long. He gripped her sewing hand again, but this time harder, and without giving her the option to protest, he tore the shift from her hands and threw it down behind her.
“If you live to serve,” he hissed, “you serve.”
“That’s not what —”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
She didn’t stop him from unlacing her dress, although her every muscle shouted at her to. His fingers were more careful than she thought, and he made short work of it. Then, without daring to look into her eyes, he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around. He wanted to take her black veil off by himself… Of course.
He felt at first how it was held — pinned within her hair from both sides. As gently as a bard unboxing his instrument, he uncovered her, letting the veil fall to the floor, then his hands went to her shoulders and pushed the dress down her limp arms. It went down to her waist where a narrow belt held it.
She was surprised to feel a touch upon her back, careful and precise, but harsh. If she focused, she could almost hear his heartbeat, hear his breathing, see behind her closed eyelids the expression on his face. His presence was as intense as when she’d first seen him take his first steps on Arrakis. He was not someone who liked to be ignored.
She turned to find him smiling, and couldn’t help a shiver of pleasure to find him happy from so small a thing. She realised then that what he’d been enjoying was the way tendrils of her hair fell on her skin. She held his gaze and, as if it meant nothing to her, took out the pins that kept it all together. It fell in waves around her shoulders and framed her breasts in teasing curtains, her hardened nipples just barely peeking through.
Feyd drew a sharp inhale and smiled as if he’d just received a present. Even his eyes looked innocent for a moment as if all power and control were drained from him, rendered unnecessary, because he’d just gotten everything he wanted. And then she slapped him in the face.
It was probably the hardest hit she’d ever given, and it still wasn’t enough to move him. He didn’t even waver on his feet. But his expression fell from pampered to petulant. It took a moment for his anger to be summoned up, and he flashed his black teeth at the sensation, cupping his cheek to soak the feeling in. He blinked and frowned at her — confused, perhaps, as to why she didn’t seem afraid, or why she dared to do it in the first place. But she saw in his expression a similar sort of thing to what passed across the eyes of sisters who accessed genetic memories. In his case, it was probably half-forgotten recollections from his childhood.
“You want it harder?” she asked with a deliberately indifferent tone.
Feyd didn’t waste a single breath. He gripped her throat and started squeezing, but she was unshakable now. Beneath his skin, she knew, her slap still sang throughout his blood. She stood before him half-naked, and he was the vulnerable one.
She slid her hands out of the sleeves of her dress and gripped his wrist — not to push it away, but to hold it — and dipped her head to bite into the flesh between his fingers. Feyd breathed in but let her do it, a shiver of pleasure running up his arm. He moaned, and immediately she felt his blood against her tongue. Pretending to enjoy it, she closed her eyes and drank it down. Then, with a kittenish lick at his wound in parting, she raised her head and started walking.
“You say I’m here to serve,” she whispered, pushing him toward the bed. “I know just how you want it.”
She brought him to the edge of the mattress and kneeled, forcing him to sit down. He did it as if mesmerised. As reward, she kissed him where his skin was bleeding, then sank her teeth in it again.
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