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#not tagging him but the little clue in the text
sleepyfan-blog · 2 days
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Chase
Author’s note: The fourth fic for Nadesir! previous. Next
Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @kit-williams
Warnings: kidnapping, violence, ask me if you want me to tag something else
Summary: Nadesir catches the trail of one of the lurking Alpha Legionnaires, but something more worrying comes up.
Nadesir silently made his way through the forest, using his wings to keep from leaving tracks on the ground. For reasons known only to them, the Dark Angel Interrogator Chaplain and the squad he had brought with him had decided to linger in the small human town, and had been terrorizing random Astartes by asking questions that made no fucking sense to him. Perhaps it was a Loyalist thing that they were chasing? Not that the Night Lord Raptor had made it his business to find out what the Dark Angels were up to - though he hoped that they would fuck off soon. With the Alpha Legionaries somewhere in the forest that he was currently flying through doing fuck knows what, the presence of another group of deeply mysterious and secretive Astartes was... Not great. While he was looking for four-legged prey to hunt, Nadesir was keeping a careful eye on his surroundings, just in case he caught a glimpse of a hydra lurking in these woods, or to catch their trail.
If he could find where they were hiding out in - when not sneaking around the town in the guise as other marines - it might help? If he could make his way through the Alpha Legion base, try to snoop through their things, to see if they had any plans written down - likely coded, if it was written down - he and the other bonded Astares who lived with their humans might have a clue as to what those teal-hued snakes were after. Not that Nadesir was of the opinion that they should give the Alpha Legionaries whatever it was they were after. Not with the underhanded groxshit that they've been pulling for months now. 
Snap!
A branch broke loudly, startling the Night Lord, and Nadesir choked back the instinctive desire to hiss or growl at whatever had made such a sound, whirling where he was hovering to try and see the cause of the broken branch. At first, all he could see were several different kinds of trees - odd, as none of them were the type of tree to shed branches at this time of year unless the tree was damaged or sick somehow - when he saw a flash of teal and silver. A vicious smirk spread across his face beneath his helmet as he flew as swiftly and as silently as he could manage toward the brightly colored flash he'd seen.
He quickly approached where he'd seen the initial flash of silver and teal, noting that particular Alpha Legionnaire had indeed been caught in the deadfall trap that he'd left out for unwary prey, from the destroyed trap and the scrapings of paint on the underside of the large and heavy branch the other had likely been trapped - or partially - trapped under. There were a set of Astartes-sized footprints for him to follow deeper into the woods. The smirk on his face broadened to a grin, and he was about to fly off to hunt down his two-legged prey when he paused for a moment as he got a message from his bonded.
[You busy, Vanya?]
He hesitated for a moment before answering, using the text-to-speech feature in his helmet (making sure that his external comms were off - no need to potentially tip off to his prey that he was closeby) [Somewhat, but never too busy for you. Did you need something? I am on a hunt.]
[Oh, have fun! I just thought I saw you at the grocery store. Must have been another Night Lord.] She said, unintentionally causing Nadesir to panic a little.
He didn't know of any other Night Lords who lived in this area, and there were no Night Lords in the migratory war bands who passed through this town. At least, that had been true the last time one of the warbands had passed through, and they'd come and gone before this group of Alpha Legionnaires had decided to be spooky bastards. [... Be careful, darling. Most of my brothers are... Spectacular in how poorly socialized they are, to use your words. And it's possible that the Night Lord You saw was actually one of the shape-shifter Astartes borrowing someone else's form.]
[I'll keep that in mind. Have fun on your hunt, Vanya!] She texted back [I'll tell you when I get home.]
[See you soon, this hunt shouldn't take long.] Nadesir promised, anxiety and determination making his hearts beat quickly. He was torn between his desire to run the Alpha Legionnaire to ground, and flying back to his bonded... Especialy with this suspect Night Lord in town, he was worried that this might be some kind of trap or bluff -
Snap!
Another broken branch. Another flash of teal and silver paint.
A silent snarl left Nadesir as he lunged for his prey, while also making sure to send all of the information he'd gathered on this hunt to the Ultramarine Lieutenant who'd been put in charge of handling all information that the allied Astartes in the area had gathered on their wholly unwelcome visitors. That way if he was captured or went completely silent, they had some sort of clue as to what had happened to him.
The trees were too close together for Nadesir to fly properly, but he leapt from branch to branch in the upper canopy, gliding on silent wings as he sought out the Alpha Legionnaire he'd caught sight of twice, one hand on his bolter, the other helping to steady himself on the branch he leapt to, to keep from making too much noise. 
It did not take long for the Night Lord to catch up with the single Alpha Legionnaire who was limping on the ground.
...
Why was there only one of them? Of the traitor legions (were Alpha legionnaires traitor? They were labeled such by the Loyalists, but Nadesir wouldn't be surprised if the true answer was much more complicated. Even so, was this Alpha Legionnaire a traitor, or was he from a time before the Horus Heresy?) the Alpha Legion almost never splintered off into groups fewer than two. He looked for signs of more Alpha Legionnaires, but did not find any. He kept pace with the bastard Hydra limping around on the ground, careful to keep behind him and moving as silently as possible, in the hopes that if the other did not know he was there, that he would not alert the other to his presence. And the injured Alpha fucker definitely seemed to be headed in a specific direction, rather than wandering around aimlessly.
Nadesir stalked the injured Alpha Legionnaire from the forest canopy, resisting the urge to swoop down and pounce on the bastard - to tear him limb from limb and leave a pretty little warning for his fellow teal fucks to find in the woods - patience was the mark of a true hunter, and if he was lucky, the other would lead him directly to wherever it was the group of Alpha Legionnaires were lairing. Hours passed, and the Alpha legionnaire eventually limped up a well-worn forest trail to a wooden cabin, knocking on it four times before entering.
Anticipation sung through the Night Lord's veins, but he again sent his current coordinates and a short explanation as to what he'd found to Lieutenant Ollias. He paused for a moment, realizing that his beloved bonded had sent him three more messages, while he'd been focused on the hunt, each more concerning than the last.
[I'm almost home, but I think I'll need to spend some time at a neighbor's place. I think someone's following me.]
then
[How badly socialized are most Night Lords, again? The one from the grocery store is trying to talk to me. Says he can smell you on me?]
and finally, a terrifying 
[Help! He's ajklreg-]
The timestamp was half an hour ago. No no no no no! Nadesir knew that he should have turned around and gone to his beloved at the first mention of another Night Lord. It was too unusual a happenstance for it to be a good thing, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something awful had happened to his bonded. He could only hope that she was still alive. He'd been told by older Astartes that they had felt when their human had died. Had felt the bond snap as their sanity waned. Forcing down the panic, Nadesir closed his eyes as he reached out to the wonderful, strange bond that he had with his beloved human, trying to get a general sense of where she was, his body already moving towards where she was by the time he opened his eyes again.
He could hear and smell the large, unmarked van coming minutes before it arrived, its noisy engine and awful pollutants chugging along, with his bonded inside of it. The van was moving at speed - but no faster than Nadesir himself could run. He silently judged the distance before landing on the roof of the van with an unfortunate thud.
Nadesir dug his claws into the roof of the van, the inferior metals bending and buckling beneath his strength and frantic determination. the metal shrieked and screeched as he tore open a hole large enough to see what was going on.
His human was bound and gagged, held in place by a wide-eyed human male. She was struggling against him. There were several other humans in the van, two of whom were also bound and gagged, the other six trying to keep them in place. All three of the captured humans were bonded to Astartes. He leaned in, growling in the dominant human language "I don't care what foolishness you think you're up to, but I will be taking the humans you are foolishly attempting to kidnap. Resist and I will kill you."
"Y-y-you wouldn't dare!" One of the capturing humans stuttered. He stunk of fear and was dressed in a black suit and tie, with a white under-shirt. "I-I am-"
"I. Don't. Care. Who. You think you are. You attempted to kidnap my bonded, and the bonded of two others I consider allies and friends. Then again, I could leave you stranded here. The Hydra hunt in this region. I'm sure they would feast upon your fear and helplessness before tearing you apart." Nadesir hissed. Or he could leave them for the Salamanders to find. While they were loving and soft to those whom they cherished... Well, these idiots definitely would have roused the fury of the dragons. And enraged Salamanders were breathtakingly vicious and cruel. 
"We... We... We still have a working-" Suit and tie stuttered uselessly.
Nadesir ignored his babbling, looking over to his beloved - who continued to struggle furiously against her captor. He reached for her, cutting the ropes off of her, offering her his combat knife "I'm going to stop the vehicle. I imagine these two's bonded aren't far behind you." He gently bumped his helmeted head against her forehead in a gesture of affection. "Strike hard and fast, my heart." Before he crawled back on top of the van, pulling his bolter from it's holster and shooting at the hood of the van, aiming for where the engine probably was, and blowing a large hole through the middle of it.
There was a lot of panicked shouting and wailing from the would-be kidnappers. Their symphony of fear was almost enough to provoke Nadesir to purr - but he wouldn't. Not until his precious human was safe. And that the other kidnapped humans were safe too. 
Sure enough, he could see several large green Astartes sprinting down the road towards the rapidly slowing van. He waved at them from his perch, calling out to them over vox {You here to retrieve our kidnapped humans?}
{Yes! Your appearance is timely, if surprising. We were told you were on a hunt?} The lead Salamander asked. He was one of the Primaris Marines - larger and allegedly better than first born marines. The young dragon was sure a fast fucker, at any rate. Nadesir wasn't sure what his name was.
{I was. Then my human texted me for help, so I followed my bond to where my human is. I've given her my combat knife and freed her hands and legs, so the others who were captured are going to be freed soon too.} Nadesir explained, looking back into the hole he'd created. Sure enough, his beloved had freed the other two bonded humans - and was threatening Suit-and-Tie human at knife point, using methods he'd taught her. He's so proud of her. He calls out to her "Are you ready to go, love? Or do you want to kill your would-be capturer? Or I could kill him for you, and give you his heart to devour. Or his liver. Or both!" He was... Mostly joking. He knew that cannibalism wasn't something that most humans on ancient terra did unless under extreme circumstances and desperate. But he was leaning into the terrifying reputation that his legion had earned on Ancient Terra.
"... I'd rather they face the justice system, then have them killed out of hand, Vanya. Even if this shithead's parents are wealthy enough to pay off the courts." His human huffed, glaring darkly at suit-and-tie.
"Mmm, the squad of angry Dragons says otherwise, dearheart." Nadesir crooned. He doubted that these would-be kidnappers would last long in captivity, unless they had some very compelling information to give to the local chapter masters. "Then again, the Interrogator Chaplain has been getting restless... I'm sure he'd be delighted to... Mete out the due justice these fools have earned." Oh look, and the scary bastard and his posse were following the squad of furious Salamanders. "You never should have kidnapped our humans. Ready to go home, darling?"
His human blinked and smiled, handing him his combat knife. Instead, he picked her up, nuzzling her lovingly. "I thought you wanted to hunt?" she asked, confused. 
"If you think that I am going to be anywhere but at your side for months after you got kidnapped, you should reconsider that idea. I... I am sorry to have failed in protecting you, beloved." Nadesir rumbled, guilt and shame gnawing at him. One of the would-be kidnappers tried to reach for a weapon, but with a flick of his wrist, he cut the bastard's offending hand off with one of his claws without looking.
"Hey... It wasn't your fault I got grabbed, love. And you came to get me as soon as you knew I was in trouble. I... I'd like to go home now. I'll talk to whoever Captain Urar sends to talk to me about what happened tomorrow." His beloved responded, shaking a little as she buried her face in his chest.
Nadesir kissed the top of her head. It was still a failure on his part that she'd gotten kidnapped - perhaps he needed to ensure his reputation was terrifying enough that none would dare approach her with covetous thoughts? Ah, but he didn't want to potentially scare her away, either... These were things to consider later, however. The squad of Salamanders had arrived and he nodded politely to the sergeant leading them, saying "I'm going to take my human home. We'll both give full reports of what we know happened tomorrow."
"That works for me, go on home." The sergeant responded. "And yes, I'm aware of the Pride half a klik behind me. They're bored and frankly, I think that letting them handle the idiots would be entertaining."
The night lord raptor nodded, holding his human closer as he took to the skies. She slowly started to relax in her arms, the fear and anxiety in her scent giving way to wonder and delight. She always did really enjoy it when he took her for a flight.
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ahappydnp · 1 year
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the VISCERAL reactions i get everytime i see the shoes pic. i literally wanna put this on my wall (and i genuinely might). it's like a fucking heart. they must have been so relaxed. Haven't been able to write shit today because it has rattled me damnnnn (writing and reading y'alls reactions cheers me up too im not alone in this)
was there ever a time before the shoe pic have we ever had a thought before shoe
dan’s out here soft launching and killing us in the process
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tvckerwash · 1 month
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J.D felt horrible about it, but with everything that had happened the last few months—Hell, the last few years—He had admittedly somewhat forgotten that Terrence existed.
Looking through Connie’s data, dealing with corporate civilian bureaucracy, and being “demoted” into doing menial grunt work aboard the Staff of Charon has taken up the bulk of his time since returning from Longshore, so he hasn't gone to visit the guy and offer morale support during his grueling physical therapy sessions in quite a while.
Apparently, having a building collapse on top of you and needing surgical reconstruction of a large portion of the bones in your body really, really sucked.
J.D mentally grimaced at the prospect of speaking to the temperamental man. He had been waiting to tell him about their team until he was officially discharged from medical, and only after Sharky came to terms with the loss would he even think about introducing Connie into the mix. The man's hatred of the Freelancers was, understandably, incredibly intense.
He loved Sharky, he really did, and he wouldn't trade him for anyone else, but Terrance could be annoyingly stubborn and overly dramatic, and a lack of any semblance of a proper chain of command didn't make his job any easier. The guy just didn't respect his experience and skill as an ODST like the others did, which was beyond frustrating at times.
(God, what a mess). He sighed, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.
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avatarofwar · 3 months
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idk if you remember getting that ask but i sent one about sekiro ages ago and i wanted to say i have started and played through a lot of game and i am enjoying it a lot. it is a very pretty game and the combat is fun but i also am so glad you talked about wolf as a character because i like the guy a lot :D so thanks for posting abt him !!!!
nice to see you're enjoying it! it's a fucking amazing game, not just combat-wise (not to say that I don't adore the combat, it's really good, the audio design is fucking incredible, it's really satisfying to master the combat and just feel yourself get better at it as you get further in the game), but also, just. the story and the characters are all really good (with the exception of owl, who I fucking despise, but he's still a really well written piece of shit)
and yeah wolf is super fucking good. his growth is So Fucking Good. I will admit I am biased towards liking him because he is like. designed to be a blorbo. but he's really good and I need to get him out of situations and into therapy. he needs it
also it is no problem talking about him, I am always glad to have an excuse to analyse him because I do that anyway, completely unprompted by anyone but my brain
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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year
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the boys reaction to the reader sending them lewd photos (with consent!)
Oof fuck yeah 😎
tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:
Oh sweetheart, you fucked up (in the best way obviously)
He got the text that said “for your eyes only ;)” with an image following after the text, he knew better than to open it around others so he waited. Even when he was alone waited.
And then when he finally decided to open it, hands shaking just a little bit, he was in awe
You were sat in front of a mirror, legs spread and on your knees, back curved to get that flattering angle he loved so much, wearing nothing but his balaclava, your hair poking out from under the edges, doe eyes feigning innocence, your free hand disappearing between your legs
He calls you immediately, white knuckling his phone while he’s adjusting his jeans, suddenly tight, uncomfortable, and far too warm
“You have any idea what you’ve done?”
“No clue what you’re talking about, could use a hint though.” He heard the shit eating grin over the receiver and could practically see you biting your lower lip, eye lashes fluttering in feigned ignorance
“Better find you on your knees when I get home.”
“Or what?” He heard the breathlessness in your voice, knew how much you loved it when he gave you orders. Still he had to at least hand it to you for trying to keep up the coquettish act,
“Careful, pet, choices have consequences.”
(On GOD that line makes me WEAK)
After that interaction, he went silent until you woke up to a text a few days later that reads ‘Home in 5’ the text was sent five minutes ago and you heard the lock clicking at the front door
Consequences, love
John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:
The least restraint out of all of them tbh
He gets your text and sees that there’s an attachment and he calmly dismissed himself from the group, they’re at a pub, celebrating a job well done and you decided to hang back and let John have his night with his mates team
As soon as he’s alone and he opens the picture, his hand is running over his face and his baby blues are like saucers
You’re on your back, legs closed and turned to the side to show off the curve of your hips that drives him feral, you’re wearing nothing but his dog tags, with one of them between your plush lips and the other resting at the center of your chest
“Sorry, lads, gotta run.” He’s back at the table, grabbing his coat and his keys
“Already? We just got here.” Gaz shouted after him as he practically sprinted out of the building
“Shame. Be seein’ ya!”
He’s well over the speed limit and fighting his keys to get them in the lock, in a matter of seconds he’s got you in his arms, kissing the breath out of you
By the end of the night, and well into the morning, there won’t be a single inch of you that hasn’t been lavished
John Price:
Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Da-
John is a patient man, he can bide his time well, knowing what it does to you
So when he sees the text and the attachment that followed, it wasn’t any different. He could wait. He knew what it was. He’s a patient man. So, just like Ghost, he waited. Except even when he was alone he didn’t open it. He’d text you as if he never saw the message and it had you wondering if it had any effect on him at all.
Sweetheart, of course it did. He could feel his phone burning a hole through his pocket despite being cool to the touch. But he wanted to wait until he knew for sure he was going home and when.
He was on the way home when he finally decided to open the picture and thank god he waited
You were sat in his favorite chair, legs crossed over the armrest, back arched over the other, wearing nothing but his hat, with one of his cigars lit between your fingers, you had captioned it with ‘what can I say? I miss my man’
If he’d seen the picture when you’d sent it, he wouldn’t be thinking straight for the rest of his time over seas. No thoughts. Head empty. Just bending you over one of the armrests and biting down on your shoulder as you’re crying out his name.
And that’s exactly what he did when he saw you.
Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:
Oh honey, even though your text said ‘your eyes only’ he shrugged and figured no one was around to see so he opened it and his face went hot so fast, he barely had a chance to take a good look before he locked the phone and put it in his pocket.
He backed out of his chair rather clumsily and practically tripped over his feet trying to get to the bathroom
The lock had barely clicked when he dug his phone out of his pocket to get a better look and my god you looked delectable
You were wearing his cap and his jacket, which you left open, with nothing else. You were sitting on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread, biting your lip, tweaking your nipple with you free hand
‘Wish my man would serve me instead instead.’
He didn’t even bother going back to meet up with everyone else, he just went straight home, he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you for all you’re worth, before placing you on the edge of the bed and dropping to his knees.
And serve you he did.
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toji-girl · 1 month
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tags: repost + drunk! fem reader + alcohol + age gap + Toji is soft and sweet but also possessive and jealous + you feel him up + he carries you + slightly suggestive + self-ship piece made for everyone to enjoy + lmk any missing tag please!
Three missed calls and one unheard voicemail.
Saturday 2:30 am, September 2nd; Hey…I called you two times, first one rang a few times then went straight to voicemail, and the second call the same thing happened, now this is the third and final time I have attempted to reach out before I come out looking. Where are you? Don’t make me ask again princess.
You stared down at your phone screen with a scoff at your boyfriend’s behavior. Dating an older man is not for the weak or the people who get annoyed easily. It was Friday night and you left his place after staying there all week.
So weren’t you entitled to go out and have some fun? You did ask if he wanted to go but said something along the lines of my back hurts not tonight doll but apparently not enough for him to come out and look for you.
It wasn’t as if you were going out with a bunch of your guy friends, sure there’d be a few but mostly it was just you and your girlfriends wanting a night out, and being twenty-eight it only made sense, right?
You stood in front of the mirror in your best friend’s bedroom flanked by your group of friends. Aya stood behind you and cupped your breasts when you took a picture. “Send that to gramps, he’d lose it.”
Cackles could be heard from your close knit of women who leaned in and made pouty faces taking another one to send to Toji who was currently at his house waiting for you to call him so he can come and pick you up.
It was after the fourth bar everyone decided to stop by Aya’s apartment since it was the closest one at the time and you were beyond tipsy sending him random messages throughout the evening. “He’s not that old.” You shot back.
“Old enough to be your dad! His son is close to our age! Have you thought about a little son vs. dad duo? I wonder who’s better at eating pussy?” She teased and changed into yet another outfit before going back out again.
Your face scrunched up as you threw a balled-up dress at her head. “You’re disgusting, and I can promise you that it’s Toji. That man had me crying last night just from - ”
You stopped mid sentence feeling your face flush, your inebriated brain played the memories of just that; the way he had your legs thrown over his shoulders as he made out with your pussy slowly fingerfucking you until you squirted.
Em who you also haven known since preschool snatched your phone from your hand to open the text thread between you and Toji. “Just from what? Maybe an older dude is the way to go, they can dick you down good.”
She sighed wistfully already like she didn’t have a boyfriend. “Do not look through our messages because you will be disappointed in me, I’m dirty.” You squealed trying to reach for your phone only to get smacked on the hand.
“Oh my god! You sent him a picture of your whole pussy?" She shrieked shoving your phone back in your chest with a loud cackle as the other girls joined in falling on Aya's bed with more laughter.
They all sat up and looked at you like you were their momma bird and they were waiting to be fed. "You are dirty, do you like it when daddy spanks you?" Aya asked in a deep tone trying her best to mock Toji.
You picked up a small plushie and threw it at her head feeling your cheeks flame to a level of uncomfortable warmth. "Stop! You guys are making me want to go back to his house and get fucked dumb and I did yes, he loves it and I love showing it off to him." You huffed.
With everyone ready you and everyone else linked arms and squeezed through the front door of the apartment and down the street not having a single clue that Toji was already two steps behind you, after the first time you didn't answer this was the only way to check on you and make sure nothing was going down.
He couldn't help but click his tongue a little as you swayed and clung to Aya who wasn't much better than you as everyone got shoved through the line and into the doors. It was a split-second decision he made to follow after, one he wouldn't regret one bit.
Toji was sure he would never fall in love again after his first marriage, the idea of his heart being shattered again wasn't something he wanted to go through with which is why he was here at almost three in the morning stalking you making sure you were okay and stayed safe; his pretty little girlfriend who keeps gushing about him.
It wasn't hard not to hear you giggle and talk about how much you love your boyfriend who does everything for you and how could you really not? Thankfully you were drunk enough that you didn't notice him standing in the corner dressed darkly with a hat covering most of his face.
"I think you should just move in with him but then we'd never see you again, what about our weekly date nights? You've been putting it off since you met gramps." Aya pouted as you and her danced close to the edge of the bar keeping your eyes on your friends and drinks.
You glared at Aya and let her tug you closer indulging in one of her favorite love languages. "Stop calling him that. He's barely in his forties and treats me so well, I do love him Aya, I really do." You admitted wishing you were in his arms peppering his face with kisses.
Aya handed you your drink with a shit-eating grin. "I just love teasing you is all, and I know older men are all that and a bag of chips but babe...you have to remember that he is way older than you with a kid younger than us, I think maybe your daddy issues are showing."
"How about you butt out of my relationship." You hissed feeling the fun bubbly feeling of being drunk turn into something else; a hot red rage that took a hold of you like a vice. You stumbled back away from her and broke away from your group of friends for a breath of air.
When you came back inside you still didn't see Toji who now moved after hearing your conversation with Aya and knew you were going to cry about it to him later which he'd happily lap up and soothe away any thoughts that would even begin to push him out of your life.
The booze in your veins pumped along with the blasting music as you nursed another drink while trying your best to pull out your phone to text Toji.
[You - 3:26 am]
srry im drink plz pick me up
Toji who was a mere few feet from you when he felt his phone vibrate which he quickly slid from his pocket to read your message clicking his tongue again as he looked over at you and his heart melted. You looked sad and defeated which is not a good thing paired with the alcohol you drank.
You hunched over the oak bar and sighed when you felt a pair of hands on your upper back, you didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. "What's the matter with my princess?" He asked.
Toji grasped your shoulders and pulled you back a little into his chest, the back of your head rested on his abs as he tilted your head up to look at him, unshed tears swam in your eyes. "How'd you get here so quickly?" You asked slurring your words together with a giggle.
He bent down to press a soft chaste kiss to your forehead before collecting you in his arms letting you hang off his left one almost as if you were a doll, his hand pulled your dress down before patting your ass with a heavy sigh looking for your friends to update them on you.
"I'm taking her back to my place, and I'm sure she will call you in the morning," Toji told your group of friends who only nodded in response watching you hang off of him, your head hung low. "Byeeeee!!" You squealed when he made his way to the exit.
Once he got you both outside he sat you down on your feet holding your upper arms. "Can you walk to the car? It's down the street." He asked immediately getting his answer when you stumbled back again, thankfully you were close enough he was able to wrap one large arm around your waist keeping you upright.
Toji used his strength and sobriety to his advantage to hoist you up again tossing you over his shoulder carefully, one hand rested on your ass to make sure it didn't bunch up. "Mhm! Toji!" You screamed reaching your hands down to squeeze and slap his ass hearing him grunt and huff your name.
"Making sure my princess gets home. Stop." His hand came down with a little force on your backside to catch your attention when you tried to interrupt him with a string of unintelligible noises.
You hung from his shoulder like a lifeless rag doll until he finally made it to his car and unlocked it with the key in his pocket. When he sat you down again your hands reached up to grab his pecs with a grin. "Love you and your big 'ole tits. Wanna bite 'em." You squealed.
He couldn't help but roll his eyes a little at you but still let you get your way as you used the extra height from your high heels to motorboat him with a loud laugh. "Me and my big tits love you too, now get in the car so I can get you into bed." He ordered with a grunt.
Ten minutes later you found yourself settled into Toji's bed watching him as he cleaned your face with a washrag before he took off your fake eyelashes the best he could. "What's the point of these? They look like fuckin' spiders." He said and tucked you in earning a giggle.
Toji never got his answer seeing that you were asleep, your hand curled into his shirt still. His mind wandered about your conversation with Aya earlier and knew that you two would need to have one of your own.
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slytherinslut0 · 6 months
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MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me
Chapter Twenty Four-Info:you and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.
Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, ANGST ANGST ANGST, Kissing, Childhood Trauma, Slight!GunPlay(very slight), More Angst, Sadism, Slight Emotional Manipulation.
Find the rest of the chapters HERE.
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Your fingers glided gently across the pages of your open book, tracing the lines of text as if seeking to absorb the knowledge directly into your skin. The ambient hush of the library enveloped you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages turning and the occasional murmur of voices in the distance. It was a haven of tranquility, a sanctuary where you could finally turn your thoughts off and allow yourself to get lost within the words of the text.
In this cocoon of silence, you immersed yourself, your eyes traversing the lines on the page with a voracious hunger for understanding. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of old parchment and the subtle aroma of polished wood, creating a sensory symphony that enhanced your focus. But amidst this serenity, an abrupt disruption shattered your concentration. The creak of a chair being pulled out and the faint sound of footsteps approached, heralding an unexpected presence.
Startled, your eyes lifted from the text to find Mattheo seated across from you--his dark, penetrating gaze drilled into yours, his eyes narrowed with a glaring suspicion as he analyzed your features, slowly and cautiously--not daring to speak. The sudden intrusion in such a public setting caught you off guard; a mix of surprise and unease filling your lungs as you blinked, glancing around the room to ensure no attention had been drawn.
It had been two days since the events in the bathroom, two whole days where the conversations were as bland as a piece of raw fucking chicken, and yet, here he was. Without warning. You had no fucking clue what he was doing here, but the look in his eyes told you it wasn't for any particularly pleasant reason.
"When were you planning on informing me about your little friend's new companion, hm?" His voice sliced through the air like a blade, his eyes narrowing with sadism. "I mean...I just happened to stumble upon her leaving my brother's dorm, and I'd highly fucking doubt she was there for a casual browse through his book collection, wouldn't you agree?"
Your eyes widened in shock, nerves flooding through you like an icy tide, freezing your words in your throat. You had been meaning to tell him, but since the two of you had hardly been speaking, it seemingly slipped your mind.
You glanced around the room, as if searching for an escape from the intensity of his gaze, before finally managing to whisper, "Are you fucking serious right now? Why is that any bloody concern of yours?"
"I just find it utterly fascinating," he sneered, his voice dripping with dangerous intent as he leaned over the table, scuffing his chair toward you. "...the intricate web of secrets you weave, Raven...not very Ravenclaw of you, now is it?"
"How is that a secret?" you hissed, your voice laced with both irritation and trepidation. "And why would I care about Emily getting with Tom? I never had any feelings for-"
"Not talking about that," he interrupted, his tone sharp as he cut through your words. "I'm talking about everything, in a far more broad context...all of the willing little lies and deceit...all the ways you've used me, just as much, if not more, than I've used you...you even managed to outwit Tom, which is one hell of an impressive accomplishment all on its own, I'll give you that."
The oxygen in the room vanished, leaving you nearly gasping for breath. "I...outwit Tom?"
"Well, it was only thanks to his blaring review that you landed this mentorship, was it fucking not?..." he scanned your features, his brows pinching in focus. "Every calculated step you've taken, every deceptive move you've made, all orchestrated to extract what you wanted for your bloody career...it truly makes a man wonder..."
His words struck like a cold breeze, sending a chill down your spine as you struggled to process the weight of his insinuations--you were beyond startled by the pace of this conversation, each syllable from his lips landing like a punch to the gut, rendering your mouth mute.
"I..." his words had you reeling, your voice catching in your throat, your confidence shattered by his unsettling revelation. "What the hell are you implying, Mattheo?"
Your throat tightened as you struggled to maintain composure. Swallowing hard, you tried to play it off, squinting at him in an attempt to mask your anxiety. But his penetrating gaze saw through your facades, leaving you defenseless against his piercing scrutiny. Mattheo's movements were deliberate, each shift in his chair calculated to exude an air of intimidation and control. His eyes, sharp and predatory, followed your every reaction as if he were studying his prey before a calculated strike.
"I did some digging on you last night...on your background...what your parents do...since, you know, you clearly had no interest in telling me yourself..." a sinister smile played on his lips, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic satisfaction. His voice lowered to a barely audible murmur, laced with a sense of superiority. "After the night at the lake, after that little spat we had...I just...I just couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to you than met the eye...and boy was I ever fucking right.”
Letting his words sink in, he leaned back in his chair, that sickening grin still plastered across his face. As the realization of his words settled like a heavy stone in your chest, you grew increasingly uncomfortable, acutely aware of the other students nearby. Their presence, though not directly involved, added a layer of unease to the situation.
Leaning across the table, you whispered urgently, "Do you have to do this here?" The words escaped your lips in a hushed plea, your voice strained with the need for privacy and a shred of dignity. "Like at least-"
Mattheo's response was chillingly calm, his grin widening with malicious delight.
"Oh, princess, come on," he purred, his tone a twisted mockery of sweetness. "Why continue to hide the truth? Let them hear what kind of person you really are..."
Your anger surged, the intensity of your emotions making your fingers grip the book tightly as you leaned in closer to him.
"You're a despicable asshole, you know that?" you spat out, your voice edged with pure disdain. "What's your bloody angle here?"
"Never claimed otherwise, did I?" His tone was flat, devoid of any remorse; meeting your words with an infuriating calmness. "Unlike you, I don't pretend to be something I'm not."
Your eyes rolled so forcefully it felt like you were glimpsing the inside of your skull, a groan of frustration clawing at your throat. Of course, he chose this moment--a place where you had to hold back your torrent of emotions, where you couldn't unleash the full force of your anger upon him. He knew exactly what he was bloody doing here, and it was fucking infuriating.
"Enough with the games, Riddle," you snapped, the words escaping through clenched teeth, your patience stretched to its limit. "Stop being a bloody arse and spit it out already."
"Your family history," he said, leaning in so close that your eyes locked in a battle of wills, each glance a dagger threatening to pierce the other's resolve. "It isn't as pristine as one might think...in fact, I'd almost be inclined to say it's the complete fucking opposite."
Your entire body tensed, coiling like a tightly wound spring. There was a pause as you studied his face, trying to decipher exactly what he knew before responding.
"Careful, Mattheo," you retorted, your voice laced with a sharp edge. "Just because you've unearthed a few skeletons doesn't mean you've cleared the whole closet."
"Honestly, Raven, I'm just curious," his grin stretched wider, the atmosphere around him growing denser with an almost palpable tension. "How did you manage to play the part for so long? You certainly had me fooled...even managed to trick the sorting hat into believing your little fucking charade...it's quite impressive, truthfully..."
A knot tightened in the pit of your stomach, every nerve inside you screaming in turmoil. "I...I don't know what you're talking about-"
"Don't even bother," Mattheo's words cut through your feeble denial, and he tilted his head, his intensity thickening the air around you. "I see right fucking through you, now, princess...that innocent act won't work on me anymore..."
His eyes, like burning coals, seared into your skin as if trying to uncover hidden truths. The room seemed to close in around you, amplifying the weight of his accusation.
"Generation after generation of Pureblood fucking Slytherins..." he continued, his voice low and laced with feign exasperation. "And yet, here you are...apparently as Ravenclaw as they come...you've managed to make yourself so damn-near invisible that no one even fucking noticed..."
Your breath hitched, caught in the vice grip of his merciless scrutiny. The truth of his words hung heavily in the air, a damning revelation that sent a shiver down your spine. Your carefully constructed facade, your shield against the world, was crumbling, and Mattheo had managed to find the cracks, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in his piercing gaze.
"I'll admit, I feel rather idiotic for not piecing it together sooner..." he sneered, his tone cutting through the tension like a knife, hands curling into fists atop of the desk. "I guess I was too entranced by your starry-eyed facade to see the cunning Slytherin hiding beneath, even though it was right in front of my face this whole time...your biting sarcasm, your unrelenting ambition, and your overly-eager knack for deceit--classic fucking Slytherin traits, aren't they, Raven?"
Your entire being blazed with a searing heat, a tempest of conflicting emotions threatening to consume you. The urge to throttle him until he fell silent warred with a fierce desire to pull him close and lose yourself in a breathless kiss. How infuriating it was to witness his sharp wit, a talent he wielded effortlessly, yet one he seemed unwilling to apply to his fucking studies.
At your silence, he huffed, glimpsing your lips again. "Not even the stars can change the essence of who you are, princess." He whispered, a hint of mockery in his tone. "Maybe it's about time you were honest with yourself."
Your anger surged like a tidal wave, crashing against the shores of your restraint. In that charged moment, you leaned in closer, as close as you possibly could, your body practically vibrating with intensity. How dare he sit there, smug and superior, acting like he had unraveled the very fabric of your being just because he had dug up a few skeletons from your family's closet?
Sure, your parents weren't paragons of virtue, but their actions don't define you--and that was the very the essence of all this. Every choice you've made, every hardship you've endured, has been a deliberate effort to distance yourself from their toxic legacy. His derisive remarks only fueled the fire, and you practically hurled the words at him, your voice laden with disdain.
"You don't know a single fucking thing about me," you seethed, "all you fucking know is what the inside of my body feels like...don't you dare sit there and act like you've got me all figured out."
Your steps were purposeful as you pushed up and away from the table, leaving him sitting there, his words lingering in the air like a bitter aftertaste. You moved back into the library, the familiar scent of old books surrounding you like a protective barrier, but you knew it wouldn't shield you from the storm that was Mattheo bloody Riddle for long. No, that would be far too fucking easy.
And nothing about your situation with that boy was easy.
As you put your book back on the shelf, you felt his presence behind you, a suffocating weight pressing down on your shoulders as you reluctantly spun back around to face him.
"Why'd you do it, huh?" Mattheo's voice cut through the air like a razor, his narrowed eyes fixed on you as he backed you up against the shelf, his presence overwhelming. "Are you truly that ashamed of who you fucking are?"
"Mattheo," you spat, your fists clenching at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. "Please, don't push it...if I wanted to tell you about that, I would have..."
"Yeah, you're ashamed," he sneered, dismissing your words with a cynical laugh, confirming his original point. "You're ashamed of where you come from...fuck, I always knew we were alike, but I never knew it'd be this much-"
"What the fuck is this? Some type of elaborate power-play move? Some type of big intimidation act to get me to tell you about my life?..." you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. "If you wanted to know, why didn't you just ask me? Instead of fucking me every chance you got why didn't you try having a real conversation with me? Try actually opening up to me for once?"
"Even if I did..." he said, dropping his tone into a low whisper. "Would you have told me? You said it yourself that you don't fucking trust me..."
"What do you want to know, Riddle? Huh? You want me to tell you how I grew up in a mansion full of emptiness? How my parents were never around and I was left with my cold, reserved grandmother, who cared more about her fucking butler than me?...or maybe you want to know about how I was raised in a world of expectations, forced to be perfect in every way imaginable, while my parents only bothered to acknowledge my existence when it served their social ambitions..."
You paused, frowning at him, your features a near scowl. "You're sure quick to call me a rich little princess...and sure, maybe you're right, maybe I had all the material things one could ever desire...but it was never enough, could never be enough. Something was always missing, like a void inside me that nothing would ever fucking fill."
Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you continued, the weight of your past bearing down on you. "When my grandmother got sick, it was the only time she actually fucking spoke to me. She told me to be different, to break free from the mold that had plagued my family for decades. I was there with her in her final moments, the first and only fucking time she ever said she loved me. And where were my parents? Absent, as always. They didn't even show up until days after her death, showering me with gifts, as if their mere presence could make up for years of neglect..."
In an unrelenting torrent, words cascaded from your lips, each syllable carrying the burden of years' worth of pent-up emotions. Mattheo's unwavering gaze never strayed, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts, absorbing every uttered syllable as though he never anticipated such revelations.
"Sure, maybe I was handed whatever I wanted on a silver fucking platter--but I was always alone, and truthfully, that's how I fucking preferred it. I never believed in destiny, Mattheo...the stars never whispered my name, my future...I had to shape my own path, I had to become something of my own...once my grandma passed, I was left with the butler. My parents didn't care about what I did as long as my grades were to their standards. They had no idea I wasn't in Slytherin until my third fucking year..."
You paused, your eyes catching Mattheo's parted lips, a reflection of sheer astonishment. Despite fighting to maintain composure, your voice softened with each breath, your heart pounding in your throat.
"I had to grab my own fate with two hungry hands, pulling and pushing and molding my life into something I could be fucking proud of...and then you came along, with your smart mouth and your fucking effortless charm...and you just...you forced your way right into my bloody heart, tore down my walls like you fucking belonged there." The bitterness in your voice hung in the air, the pain of your past etched into every word, your chest heaving with emotion as Mattheo stood in front of you, speechless. "Yes, I've made mistakes, but they belong entirely to me...and thats precisely what sets us apart, you went through some shit and let it possess you...I chose to fight back."
Trembling fingers betrayed the turmoil within, your entire body quivering in the aftermath of the verbal storm you'd just unleashed upon Mattheo. Only when the deafening silence enveloped you did the weight of your words become palpable.
Unable to endure the silence any longer, you broke eye contact, running a trembling hand through your hair. "I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to trauma dump on you like that, I just-"
"No," he declared, "don't you dare apologize to me...I should be the one apologizing to you."
Mattheo's interruption sliced through the charged air, his voice emerging rasped and strained, as though he had withheld words for years. Swallowing, you met his intense gaze, attempting to decipher the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling within his eyes.
"Don't pity me, Mattheo...I'm well past needing that," you whispered, your figure leaning subtly against the bookshelf, a tangible weariness emanating from your being. "Everything you've ever said was right...two sides of the same coin, the masks, the fact that we're each haunted by our own ghosts. You've always been fucking right. The only misstep was when you claimed you'd be my ruin."
Mattheo arched an eyebrow, bridging the distance between you with a measured step. "And why is that?"
"Because, little did you know, I was already in ruins," you murmured, reaching out to loop your fingers around his belt, pulling him closer. "If anything, you've been my bloody salvation...you did something I wasn't sure I was capable of anymore--you made me feel."
A tangible tension hung in the air as Mattheo's hands gripped your hips with a silent urgency, a fervent plea for your presence.
"As if you're going to fucking say that," he countered, his grip conveying unspoken desires. "As if that's not precisely what you did to me."
"Yeah?" you smirked, your voice a sultry whisper. "And what do I make you feel?"
"Everything, Raven," he cooed, lips grazing sensually over your jawline. "Hate, desire, anger, lust...among other things."
Your breath hitched, suspended in the charged exchange. "Among other--"
Before you could finish, Mattheo cut you off, his lips crashing onto yours in a searing kiss, a palpable surge of desire that eclipsed the need for spoken words. He pressed you against the bookshelf, the wooden solidity of the shelves meeting your back. His hands, with a journey of their own, glided up your sides, their warmth leaving a trail of anticipation. They found their destination on your face, gently cupping it with a possessiveness that made your heart flutter, and you sighed into his mouth, letting your hands rest at his sides.
"Everything about you is so fucking addictive..." Mattheo's confession hung in the air, a declaration punctuated by the heat of his lips tracing a fervent path along your jaw. His hand, a serpentine caress, slithered down your arm, leaving a tingling trail of warmth in its wake. "You are both hellfire and holy water...soft yet strong...and every bloody time I touch you I feel a little less war-torn, like your chaos balances out mine...I just...I have no idea what peace feels like Raven, but I have to imagine it feels a lot like you..."
"Mm...fuck, I've missed you..." a soft sigh escaped your lips as his kisses descended, exploring the landscape of your neck. Your fingers instinctively tightened their grip on his shirt. "Whatever happened to that break you said you wanted..."
"Fuck the break," he growled, desire lacing his voice. His hand ventured boldly behind your head, the other finding a home on your hip, possessive and hungry. "I want you so fucking bad...I want to fuck you right here...right against this fucking shelf...cover your filthy little mouth so no one can hear you fucking moaning for me..."
"Shit..." you mewled, gasping slightly as his hand slid around to grip your ass. "Maybe...if two people can't seem to stay the fuck away from eachother, they aren't meant to be apart, hm?"
"Maybe you're right..." Mattheo purred, nipping at your earlobe as he pressed you back against the shelf. "I've always been a strong man, Raven...but you break me without effort...you are my weakness, the chink in my fucking armour..."
"Your undoing?" you murmured, your fingers tracing over his belt.
He hummed. "Precisely."
"When are you going to open up to me, Mattheo?" You whispered, your voice a fragile murmur as though you were afraid of the answer, slipping your fingers under his belt now, gliding along its path. "Tell me all the bad things you've done...tell me what made you into the weapon you are...you don't need to be afraid...I saw your darkness from the very beginning and I'm still fucking here, aren't I?..."
"Why?" His grip tightened, breath hitching. "Why didn't you run?"
Your lids fluttered, slowly losing yourself in the warmth of his breath against your neck. His scent enveloped you; a familiar, soothing balm to the ache he'd caused with his recent request for a break. The answer formed easily in your heart, though voicing it required vulnerability, more than you'd ever expected to give.
"Because...it was a reflection of mine."
Mattheo's only response was a deep growl that rumbled through the charged space, a primal sound that resonated with desire. Without hesitation, he pulled you back into a hungry kiss, his body pulsating with pent-up energy seeking release. The intensity of the kiss mirrored the raw hunger between you, a magnetic force that defied all notions of any further separation.
As your fingers continued their exploration along his belt, tracing the contours with a teasing caress, you encountered an unexpected sensation--cold, unyielding metal tucked between the leather and his abdomen, its texture rough, and harsh. A chill ran down your spine as confusion slowly crept over you, your eyes fluttering open in slow, tentative blinks, fingers seemingly frozen in place.
Mattheo, lost in the heat of the moment, seemed oblivious to your sudden unease. The kiss deepened, his hunger transferring into the fervency of the embrace. But your focus had shifted, and your trembling fingers tentatively confirmed the nature of the cold object--something metallic, something that should not be there. You gently pulled away from the kiss, your eyes wide with realization, fixated on the metal object now halfway exposed. Dread tightened your chest as your brows pinched, flicking back up to meet his eyes.
"Mattheo," you whispered, the name carrying a weight of urgency, "what is this?"
Mattheo's swallow echoed in the charged silence, his gaze dropping to your hand, his chest still heaving from the passionate kiss. His eyes widened as the weight of your question settled in, a realization dawning on him, as if he had momentarily forgotten about the object concealed within his belt.
"Raven, I-"
He began, but you interrupted, yanking your hand back. "No-what the fuck-"
"Stop," Mattheo commanded, his tone abruptly taking on a harsh edge. With deliberate movements, he pulled up his shirt slightly, revealing more of the mysterious object nestled between his belt. The revelation hung in the air, and Mattheo, eyes now serious, asked a question that carried the weight of the moment: "Do you trust me, Raven?"
Your eyes squinted as a realization crashed over you, the rhythm of your heart shifting into a turbulent drumbeat within your chest. There was absolutely no denying it--that sleek, ominous silhouette spoke volumes. That was a fucking gun.
Frozen in a surreal disbelief, your ability to think, blink, or move was momentarily hijacked. Mattheo's hand surged upward with a suddenness that matched the shock in your eyes, seizing your jaw with a commanding force. His fingers, both firm and urgent, redirected your gaze, forcing you back to the depth of his eyes, which were now darker than the midnight sky.
"Answer me," he demanded, the intensity of his words amplified by the gravity of the situation. "Do you fucking trust me?"
The weight of the question echoed in the charged air. Your mind spun, grappling with the incredulity of the scene unfolding before you. Firearms had been a distant memory, relegated to hunting trips with a Muggle friend back in middle school. Yet, the stark reality of Mattheo possessing a fucking handgun in the heart of Hogwarts shattered any remnants of normalcy, the shockwaves reverberating through your very core.
"I-I-" you stammered.
Mattheo jostled your head in his grip, pulling you closer. "Yes or no question, Raven."
Blinking, you found yourself caught in a tempest of conflicting emotions. The tendrils of trust warred with the unsettling presence of the gun, a contradiction that defied all reason. In the throbbing silence, Mattheo's growl of frustration pierced the air. Relinquishing his grip on your jaw, he seized your wrist, directing it back toward the ominous weapon.
"Take it out," he commanded, his eyes fixed on yours. "Right now, Raven. Take it."
A whimper escaped you, your fingers trembling as they tentatively wrapped around the cold metal. With visible reluctance, you extended it out, pointing the gun down at the floor. Mattheo's grip on your wrist persisted, unyielding, anchoring you in the unsettling reality of the moment.
"I'll ask you one more fucking time," he whispered harshly, the words slicing through the charged air like a razor. His breath, warm against your face, carried an unsettling contrast to the gravity of his demand. "Do you trust me?"
Another desperate whimper slipped past your lips, the nodding of your head an almost frantic plea. "Yes! Please, I trust you. Just take it back-"
Mattheo's reply erupted as a snarl, a guttural growl that echoed with a feral intensity. His features, twisted by a crazed possession, accentuated the mad determination in his eyes as he tightened his grip on your wrist. With an unhinged sense of purpose, he directed it upward, the cold barrel now pressing menacingly against his own temple.
"Pull it," he said stoically, the eerie calmness chilling against the tension. "Pull the trigger."
Your jaw dropped, the brimming tears reflecting the disbelief that swirled in your eyes. "No! What the fu-"
"Do it," he repeated, the calmness persisting. "Go on, baby, pull it."
Sickened and paralyzed by the surreal horror of the moment, you hesitated, the sheer shock of what Mattheo was asking you to do anchoring you in a moment of profound disbelief. Your mind swarmed with recollections of the crazy things you'd done for him before, but this--this was unlike anything you had ever fucking imagined. The weight of the gun in your hand, the gravity of the situation, left your brain reeling as the stark realization of the moment seized hold of your senses.
His frustration, palpable and charged, manifested in another growl. With a menacing determination, he shifted his hand to envelop yours, forcing your finger down, the pressure on the trigger unrelenting.
You heard the click, you felt the click--and yet, nothing happened.
"Fuck..." you choked out, a turbulent blend of relief and confusion seizing your senses in a tumultuous embrace. "What the fuck..."
He blinked, his dark eyes tracing over your lips as he clicked it again. And again. The ensuing silence, pregnant with the surreal gravity of the situation, echoed through the seemingly empty library. Each breath you exhaled became a struggle, the air tinged with the weight of the inexplicable moment, your senses teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.
Then, like a tidal wave crashing over you, the realization struck with breathtaking force. "It's enchanted..."
"About fucking time you caught on." Mattheo nodded, his acknowledgement cutting through the charged air with terse confirmation. He released the hold on your hand, pulling the gun away and casually slipping it back under his belt. "This gun only serves one purpose Raven, and it's never to kill, only to protect..."
Your heart leapt. "Protect what?"
"Doesn't matter," he said, a gentle hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes. “You can trust me, Raven…you can always fucking trust me…”
You exhaled, a long, exasperated breath. “I know, Mattheo…”
“Good girl,” he cooed, a smirk playing on his lips as he stoically reached into his back pocket, as if on a quest for something. "Has Nott popped the question yet?"
Your cheeks flushed. "Yes.."
"Good," he replied, his other hand securing your wrist before he withdrew his busy one, placing a handful of Galleons in your outstretched palm. "Go treat yourself to a dress. Something red, something tight."
As he withdrew his hand, he leaned in, placing a hot, wet kiss on your cheek, smirking from ear to ear as he said. "I've got something I have to do tonight, so I can't stay...but I look forward to respectfully ripping off whichever lovely dress you decide on."
"Respectfully?" you quipped, a playful glint in your eyes. "I'll make sure to pick a dress that demands nothing less than the most dignified removal, then."
"Oh, Raven...I can promise you it'll be the furthest thing from dignified." He snickered, wetting his lips as he took a few steps back, slowly beginning to make his retreat. "See you then."
As he spun around, making his exit, your mind followed suit, a whirlwind of emotions from this entire encounter. Only Mattheo Riddle could master the art of rendering you utterly anxious, furious, emotional, aroused, terrified, and, finally, relieved--all within the span of under an hour. You'd never encountered a man who expertly navigated every one of your buttons and boundaries like he did, yet you couldn't deny the potent influence he held over you.
You couldn't deny that as soon as he left, an insatiable longing for his presence consumed you, an undeniable yearning for his return.
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Chapter 25->
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fuckmyskywalker · 3 months
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝. — 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.
18+. Smut. Cheating. Affairs. Dilf!Anakin. Female Reader | AFAB!Reader. Age gap. Minor sexist remarks. Tit sucking/play. | Word count: 1.2k (not proofread!)
This is a draft from like May 2023. I don't remember why I never finished it but here it is. Can't believe it's almost a year old.
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"Could you stop staring at them?" You ask with a frown, rolling up the car window. Anakin’s blue eyes hold a lustful intensity as they admire your bare tits, bringing his hand to his lips to remove the cigarette and exhaling the smoke outside the parked vehicle. 
"They're pretty," Anakin smirks, tired eyes almost glowing under the dim street lamps of the empty road. You have no clue where he brought you, but then again— you don’t ask too many questions about Anakin. "You have bigger tits than my wife."
"Ugh, you're fucking disgusting" You roll your eyes, looking away so he can’t see the ghost of a smile on your lips. As mean and hypocritical the compliment is— something about being approved under the eyes of a man who could easily be your father makes your stomach twirl.
“It's true,” Anakin continues pushing through, well aware that with enough sweet talk, you’ll fall under his claws… even his definition of ‘sweet talking’ leaves much to be desired. “Plus, yours are still intact, you know.” 
“Meaning?” 
“Kids, idiot. Your tits don’t have stretch marks or are saggy,” Anakin replies as if it wasn’t obvious. The comment makes you give him a dirty look. Age won’t take the sexist tendencies. 
“I think stretch marks are hot” You reply with a mindless shrug. “You have stretch marks on your lower back.” Anakin rolls his eyes, flicking the burnt cigarette outside the window. 
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?” He bites back, looking outside for a moment to hide the smirk on his lips. It’s hilarious how similar you two can be sometimes. Anakin throws the cigarette pack back in the cup holder and turns around, leaving one hand on the steering wheel and returning his eyes to your tits.
But you saw his little smirk anyway.
He considers smoking another one, but he can already imagine the lecture from his wife about the smell and he already showered this morning so he doesn’t want to sleep with damp hair.  Anakin notices how you twist your shirt on your lap, playing with the seams and the tag. You are nervous, which isn’t something unrealistic when you are with him. He can be so unpredictable and the whole thing of “having an affair with a married man who is old enough to be your father” already gives you enough of adrenaline and anxiety; Sometimes Anakin asks himself how the affair started, when did it changed from lingering looks and polite smiles to fucking you in the couch, after knowing you his whole life as the neighbor’s daughter who grew up playing dolls with Leia and hide and seek with Luke. 
It has been a couple of minutes since he asked you to remove your shirt, not really touching you, maybe edging you by waiting for his next move. Sneaking with Anakin is always like this. Finding a cheap motel every four days or so— because God forbids you to go to the same one three times in a row, that could be suspicious— eating some greasy takeout in the parking lot and then wandering around the streets. It may look that Anakin is prolonging the “date”, but you know better. He just dreads driving back home, he dislikes going back to his so-called perfect family. You know things are terrible under the tall, well-built roof. You hear it from him, read Leia’s texts, and wait for her when she has to stop his parents from arguing. Perhaps you are tangling yourself too much with the broken family… or tangling too much with his dick in your mouth and his fingers between your legs.
Your window is closed but not his. Outside isn’t particularly cold but you are shirtless. Your nipples are hard and sensitive and Anakin seems to enjoy the view. You can see the outline of his erection, choosing not to point it out. “Can I put my shirt on? I don’t want to die of hypothermia.”
“No,” Anakin simply answers. 
He doesn’t break eye contact with your chest when he speaks, as if he is in a trance. His hand cupped your left breast, not the gloved one that you know his wife hates, no— the flesh one, the one that is warm all the time. You relax under his touch, already used to being groped at any time. It’s oddly comforting. Or maybe it is the feeling of being desired.
Closing your eyes, you sigh, content with the minimal contact. A few seconds later his right hand joins and he is now freely palming your breasts, squeezing them softly, and rubbing your perky nipples with his palms. You don’t get why his wife hates his leather glove so much. Or is it the mechanical hand underneath? You would never know, nor you wish to— You can’t even bring yourself to think about anything else right now. His fingertips, calloused and rough pinch the tender nubs making you moan. 
He intercalates the groping and the pinching, taking his sweet time until you are breathless. Anakin can be patient when he wants to, not when he needs to. The constant teasing makes you press your thighs together, already turned on by his harsh touch.
Anakin continues torturing you until you are panting, closing your eyes and arching your back every time he pulls them softly. He even bounces them a little, licking his lips. He always knew he loved tits, but yours were his absolute favorites.
“Recline your seat” Anakin murmurs.
“What?” You snap out of your weak daze, looking at the older man with half-lidded eyes.
A deep chuckle bounces inside his car, you never cease to amaze him. “Brainless bitch,” He says with a tone that could be mistaken for affectionate. Anakin removes his hands much to your dismay, shaking his hand and clicking his tongue when you whimper in protest. “Shut up.” Reaching his hand towards your side, he pulls the lever of your seat. Reclining it and making you gasp. Your eyes meet the ceiling just in time for him to lower his face, attaching his mouth on your left nipple and sucking.
Your hand instantly touches his hair, running your fingers through the silky sea of blonde and gray. How can be so handsome in his late 40s? Only God knows. He sucks and bites, enjoying it a little too much. Anakin wouldn’t be Anakin if he doesn’t leave a couple of hickeys and bites, and you can’t complain. Seeing them the next morning when you get ready for school is always a blessing… and a gloomy reminder of the twisted relationship you are involved in— if you can even call it a relationship.
“What time is it?” He suddenly asks, lifting his head and licking his lips. 
You check your phone on the pull handle. “9:48, why?”
“My wife should be asleep. Look for another motel,” Anakin cradles your face, guiding your face towards his and kissing you, sliding his tongue between your lips and making you moan weakly from just a kiss. That’s the type of effect he has on you. “And call your parents, tell them you will be staying over in a sleepover with Leia.”
489 notes · View notes
fairlyang · 4 months
Text
Appreciate 🕷️
caught masturbating while babysitting
w/c: 5.1K
pairing: dilfneighbor!miguel x latinababysitter!reader
tags: 18+ smut. slow burn oops, age gap (not specified but reader is early 20's, mig early 30's, dirty thoughts ensue, caught masturbating, he helps you out, fingering, staying quiet
notes: the getting caught fucking KILLED me rn while editing I cannot😭
Miguel O'Hara was one of your neighbors and your parents quickly got a liking to the single father across the street. He was very laidback and kind, accommodating with all the neighbors for literally anything.
So considering that when Miguel would say he never had time for himself due to always taking care of his daughter, Gabriella, your dad told him you'd be happy to babysit for him while he took him out to get a couple drinks with a few of the other dads in the neighborhood.
But of course you had no fucking clue this conversation was even had until the day your dad promised him some drinks.
"Oye mija le prometí a Miguel que ibas a quedar a su hija para sacarlo a tomarnos unos tragos." He tells you standing by your doorway while you sat on your bed and then just walks away. (Hey honey I promised Miguel that you were going to take care of his daughter so we could take him out to have a couple drinks)
"Porque hiciste eso?!!?!" You yelled and quickly hopped out of bed and ran after him beyond pissed. (Why did you do that?!!?!)
"Si apenas me estaba alistando para salir con mis amigas no chingues!!!!" You screamed following down the stairs in your heels that clicked on every step. (I was just getting ready to go hang out with my friends. it's a phrase that can be used for shock or when shit goes wrong)
"Pues dile a Miguel que se canceló el plan entonces." He says so confident you wouldn't do it until you walk past him and heading straight to the front door. (Then go tell Miguel that the plans are canceled)
"AY OKAY! Que quieres?" He says and rolls his eyes as you turn around to face him. (What do you want?)
"Me debes un enorme favor. Lo que sea cuando te lo pida." You say and point a finger at him, just to show you really mean it. (You owe me enormous favor. Whatever it is, whenever I ask you of it)
"Ya que-" (ugh whatever- or like 'since I have no other choice')
"Tu mismo te hiciste esto." You quickly cut him off and he only groans. (You only did this to yourself)
"Pues deja me pongo cómoda. Ya que no tengo otra opción." You say and glare at him to which he only gives you a goofy smile. (Let me get comfortable. Now that I don't have another option)
You reluctantly went upstairs, annoyed that this was how your Friday night was gonna go over going clubbing with your friends.
But shit happens, what can you really do?
You go back to your room and take off your perfectly chosen red mini dress and put the sweats you were wearing earlier back on. You then grab a tee shirt that had hello kitty on it with some sunglasses, hoping to get some brownie points by the little girl at least.
You then slip on a pair of purple crocs and you're done. Until you realized you had already put your makeup on so now you have to take it off.
What a waste.
You grab a makeup wipe that you had on your desk and wipe off your eye makeup, then everything else only leaving your lips alone.
Then grabbing your phone off your bed, sending a quick text to your friends that you can't make it and you head back downstairs. "Vámonos." Your dad says and snaps his finger as if he has any room to complain. (Let's go.)
He opened the front door and you walked out right behind him as you mumble how annoying he was to which he told you to just calm down and it wouldn't be that bad.
You walked across the street and stepped up to his front door, your dad ringing the doorbell to which you then hear loud footsteps coming from inside.
Then the door opens by none other than the very energetic 8 year old. This was going to be a long night...
You smile down at her and give her a wave which she returns and gives you a toothy grin of her own. "Gabi donde está tu papá?" You asked and she just pointed up. (where's your dad?)
"Se está poniendo sus tenis! Dijo voy a jugar con alguien nueva." She says and goes back inside letting out giggles as she walks to the living room. (He's putting on his shoes! He said I get to play with someone new)
You follow her in and see coloring books, crayons, colored pencils and markers all over the coffee table in front of the tv. "Te gusta colorear?" She asked as she takes a seat behind the table as you make your way around the couch to sit on the floor with her. (Do you like to color?)
"Si me encanta!" You say and her eyes lit up. (Yes I love it!)
Suddenly you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and straighten up as Miguel comes down giving you a bright smile.
And lord did he clean up nice.
He was wearing a black button up with some jeans and black boots. You gave him a smile as he walked over to you and Gabi, who was also shining her big smile. "Papi también le gusta colorear!!" She says jumping up onto the couch and grinning ear to ear. (she also likes to color!!)
He gasps and tickles her sides making her erupt into fits of giggles, "de verdad?" He says and turns to you, to which you give a small shrug and just smile. (really?)
He stops tickling her and she hops off the couch just to sit back down on the floor. You turn to him and he walks around the couch leaning down, and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek to which you return at the same time.
"Thank you so much for this, I really appreciate it." He says and you pull back, waving him off before he continues, "Gabi's on a little sugar rush right now but she'll be calm within the next hour and will want to go to bed right after. She's a very deep sleeper so feel free to use the tv and help yourself to any of the food."
You nod and watch as he bends over and whispers something to her ear to which Gabi nods and gives him a thumbs up. He gets up and mouthed another thank you then walks out the front door.
Maybe this won't be too bad.
And it wasn't.
You ended up coloring two pages of a finding nemo coloring book while she was coloring on a spongebob coloring book. And surprisingly stayed in the lines.
After that she wanted you to play with her dolls to which you felt happy to, it was like reliving your childhood and she was such a sweet kid.
You noticed it was 8pm and helped Gabi put away all her coloring things and let her lead you to her bedroom.
She runs in as you carry her art supplies and she points to a desk for you to leave them on.
You walk over to her dresser where Miguel left a pair of pjs for her to put on and help her take off shoes as well as her glittery shirt and pants.
She then puts on her pjs and goes off the brush her teeth all by herself. Made your job even easier.
She runs back in after a few minutes and plops down onto her bed, "can you tuck me in? Porfis?" She asks and give little puppy dog eyes. (Please)
"Of course." You nod and walk over to her princess bed.
"Como un burrito!" She giggles making you laugh. (Like a burrito!)
So you pull her blanket over her body and let her lift her arms before tucking her in tightly which just made the little girl giggle. You go down and tuck her nicely tight before coming up and passing her the stuffed animal she was reaching for.
A spider.
Weird option but it had cute eyes.
"Goodnight Gabi, duerme con cosas bonitas." You whisper and smile at her as she gives you one back. (Sleep with pretty things)
You turn off her lamp from her bedside table, then walk towards her door, turning the light switch off before finally closing the door.
You head downstairs, turning off all the lights, and plop down on one of the couches in the living room. You scroll on your phone but then quickly grow bored so you reach over the coffee table and grab the remote control.
You turn the tv on and go through the apps they had and decide to watch 'A Nightmare on Elm Street'. You kick your crocs off then make yourself comfortable before turning to watch the tv.
You got to watch the first scene before your eyes started fluttering and you pass out.
You don't wake up until you hear the jingle of the door and you jump up, wiping your eyes and sitting up to watch Miguel come through the door, surprisingly not shit faced.
You stood up and greeted him with a hug, then a kiss on the cheek as he gives you one back. "Como les fue?" You ask and he shrugs. (How'd it go?)
You then pull away and take quick notice of the lipstick stains along his neck. You look back up at him and he smiles, "estuvo bien." (It was good)
Sure looks like it.
You shrug and smile, "que bien! If you need me to babysit just let my parents know and hopefully I'll be available." You offer and he sighs. (That's good!)
"I really appreciate it," he starts and takes his wallet out which you look at with a confused look, "me vale que era un favor, no me siento bien en no pagarte un poco." (I don't care that it was a favor, I feel bad in not paying you a little bit)
"Y más porque tu papá me dijo que tu ya tenías planes y ni sabías de esto." He says with a sympathetic smile while handing you a $50 bill. (And more because your dad told me that you had plans and didn't know about this)
You widen your eyes and shake your head, "no te preocupes! Está bien y Gabi se porto bien! No me tienes que pagar Miguel." You say and wave him off. (Don't worry about it! It's okay and Gabi behaved well! You don't have to pay me.)
"Por favor tómalo, me siento mal. Agarra el dinero para que tomes con tus amigas, yo picho." He says, letting out a chuckle at the last two words and you sigh. (Please take it, I feel bad. Grab the money so you can drink with your friends, I'll pay."
His eyes were pleading and it looked like he felt bad but it wasn't even his fault. If anything your dad should be the one paying.
"Si no para la próxima le digo a Gabi que lo esconda de tu ropa." He threatens making you burst out laughing. (If not for the next time I'll tell Gabi to hide it in your clothes)
"Creo que quiero ver eso..." you joke and he laughs. (I think I wanna see that)
"Mis papas me matarán si lo tomo Miguel. De verdad estás bien!" You reassure him and he sighs. (My parents will kill me if I take it Miguel. Seriously you're fine!)
"Eres bien terca." He mutters and you scoff. (You're very stubborn)
A smirk tugs on his lips and you had to fight the thoughts entering your mind. Sure he was fine as hell, you already knew that but you shouldn't be thinking this mid conversation.
"Maybe next time I'll accept it!" You say and shrug as he slides the bill back in his wallet.
"Fine." He sighs in defeat and tilts his head to the side, "but I'll still make Gabi hide it in your clothes just for good measure." He jokes making you smile.
"Yeah yeah." You wave him off and walk past him to the front door.
"Thank you again, I appreciate it." He says turning to face you and opens the door for you.
"Course! Anytime, and now I'll actually know about it." You joke making him roll his eyes.
"Tu papá es algo más." He says and you nod. (Your dad is something else)
"Lo se." You mutter and finally walk out before you waste anymore of his time. (I know)
"Cuidate!" He shouts as you walk out of his porch and onto the sidewalk. (Stay safe!)
You turn back to him and wave before turning back and crossing the street back to your house. You open the door assuming your dad didn't lock it and sure enough it was open.
As you stepped in and closed the door you noticed Miguel was still outside his door, making sure you did stay safe.
So sweet.
You give him one last wave before closing the door and immediately head to your room.
You open the door and quickly close it before taking off your crocs once again and plopping down onto your bed.
And now finally your thoughts could roam free.
His hair was slicked back before he left the house, right now that shit was all over the place.
And the lipstick stains on his neck??
He definitely got his own fun tonight but you couldn't help but feel so jealous.
It's not your fault if you occasionally had a wandering eye whenever Miguel was around.
Or peeking out through your bedroom window to watch him when he mowed the lawn. Shirtless.
Or stare at him longer than you should at random carne asadas the neighbors would host.
It was natural for a young woman to feel attraction towards an older man like him.
Especially with daddy issues but that's besides the point-
He stood out from the other dads in the neighborhood, he was younger. Respectful, kind, helpful.
Everything a woman could ever ask for.
So you couldn't help but instantly felt a twinge of jealousy when you saw the lipstick stains on his neck.
Why couldn't that be you that left them?
At least now you know he looked really good in red..
But at what cost? Feeling your entire being now getting taken over by jealousy of a man you have no right to and probably stand no chance in ever having?
Or touching...
And there came the horny thoughts that always seemed to appear in the back of your mind. He always just did something to you. Your body couldn't help but want him, crave him, his touch.
So you repeated the endless cycle of anytime you see him just having to masturbate. It was getting bad dude, but not hurting anyone.
Besides maybe your heart that I wasn't him giving you orgasm after orgasm.
——————
Alas you had to use your own fingers to make you cum and not Miguel's. Again.
But you moved on and let the next day pass. Nothing eventful happened, and there were no Miguel sightings to be found.
That was until you got a text from an unknown number and low and behold it was the man you were daydreaming about all day.
Unknown number
Hey it's Miguel! I asked your dad for your number, hope that's fine but was wondering if you could babysit for me tmrw?
Got scheduled for a late shift at the lab and don't want Gabi home alone🥲
It was embarrassing how quickly you started typing your response but how could you say no?
You're good!! And I'd love to! What time?
No way he could sense your desperation to see him again through text. Right?
You added him to your contacts before he finally texts back.
Miguel💞
Around 6, getting out at midnight so please let me pay you this time
You sigh and quickly type back.
Alrightttt
And sounds good I'll be seeing you guys tmrw:)
And with that no more messages from him came in but he left a like to your second message.
And the rest of your night was uneventful besides the occasional wet dream filling your mind and distracting you.
——————
It was the next day and you were practically counting down the hours until you had to go babysit.
Given you wouldn't even see Miguel for too long before or after but still. You'd have to make do with the amount of time you will see him.
But because you knew you'd just be playing or coloring with Gabi again, you decided to just dress comfortably over trying to impress Miguel for less than five minutes.
So sweats and a tee shirt again but no bra because who the fuck wants to willingly wear a bra for six hours?
Yeah right.
Now all dressed you grabbed your airpods and phone, slipped your crocs on and went downstairs. Saying a quick goodbye to your parents before exiting your house and trying not to skip on over to Miguel's house.
It was 5:45 but you figured you'd get there early just cause, definitely not to possibly spend a little more time with him.
Definitely not.
You walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell. Instantly the door flew open and Gabi opened the door wide so you could come in.
You ruffle her hair as she grins up at you, "cómo estás Gabi?" (How are you?)
"Bien! Apenas comí pozole!" She says as you walk in and she happily closes the door behind you. (Good! I just ate pozole!)
You gasp and were about to respond when Miguel came down. "The pot is still warm si te quieres servir un plato." He says giving you a quick hug and kiss on your cheek. (if you want a plate)
"Might just have to." You reply giving him a smile once he pulled away.
He was wearing a white lab coat, maybe a white button up and you didn't want to look down to see the rest.
His hair was slicked back again but the best part was that he was wearing thick black glasses. It made him look 100x more attractive but you remained calm.
No way to act like a barbarian right now.
Maybe later.
"Okay have her in bed by seven because she's got school tomorrow and no sweets besides pan dulce with a glass of milk." He says and you chuckle as Gabi storms up to him with a pout on her face.
But he didn't budge.
"Tv and fridge are all yours. Make yourself at home and I'll be back by midnight." He tells you then looks down at Gabi.
"Pórtate bien." He says, leaning down and giving her a kiss on her forehead and a hug. (Behave)
"Ya se papi, ya se." She says and playfully rolls her eyes. (I know dad, I know)
He gives her a warning look before blowing her a kiss as he walks to the front door. He gives her one last look and she just waves him goodbye. He chuckles and opens the door then shuts it behind him.
"Can we watch Bluey?" She looks up at you with pleading little eyes and you nod as she sprints to the living room without another word.
So you end up watching Bluey with Gabi for a good nine episodes before you were slowly losing yourself into this little kids show. The little accents and cute storylines just got to your heartstrings.
And with fifteen minutes left to spare, you wait until the episode Gabi was watching was over before hitting the back button leading you back to the disney+ home screen.
Gabi whined and you shook your head, "no more, you've gotta get ready for bed!"
She groans but nonetheless heads upstairs with you trailing behind her. She gets dressed into her pjs then heads straight to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
She's literally an angel.
No way Miguel would have a hard time finding a sitter for her. She's every babysitter's dream. Besides the occasional sarcasm she got from her dad.
But nonetheless still an angel.
Finally she's in bed and you're tucking her in, once again passing her the stuffed spider, who you learned she named Gabri, after her favorite uncle.
You then shut off the lights and walk out of her room, closing the door gently.
You walk back downstairs turning off the lights before heading to the living room. You plop down on the couch and get comfortable, this time putting on a blanket that was on the armrest because it was getting cold.
You play a random movie, snuggling the blanket to your face to warm yourself up when you realize it smells like Miguel.
Maybe he was sitting there earlier?
You breathed in and breathed out, feeling so relaxed. Your eyes start fluttering and it's the second time you pass out at Miguel's place. 
You get woken up by screams coming from the tv, probably wasn't the best to play a scary movie but oh well.
You stretched and let out a yawn before switching positions and laying down so your legs were stretched out over the whole couch. You laid your head on the arm rest and wiped your eyes before taking your phone and airpods from your pocket.
You put them both in your ears before just scrolling through your phone. You move the blanket so it was mostly by your chest and stomach, exposing your legs because you weren't cold but still wanted it on you.
Just then you inhale his scent again and he must've been wearing something expensive because it smelled so good.
You then got the absolute best idea imaginable. And with Miguel being away for another two hours along with Gabi sleeping and probably snoring heavily in her room, you would be good.
So you put some music on, a mix of The Weeknd and Lana Del Rey to get you in the perfect mood. But as you closed your eyes your imagination immediately ran wild and there was no stopping you.
You spread your legs and slowly ran a hand over your body, playing with your tits then softly pinching your hardened nipples. Then trailing it up and down your stomach before it lands on the waistband of your sweats.
You slipped your hand in and began by just tracing along your inner thigh, then went deeper. You led two fingers down to rub your clit, only a couple circles before going down and rubbing your slit over your panties.
Your arousal was already building up, and this blanket was helping a ton. You just imagined Miguel on top of you, not caring if he crushed you, just craving him above you. The way he'd be looking down at your eyes while he toyed with you. Had his way with you.
You needed him so desperately, his touch, his mouth, his fingers. Absolutely everything and anything he'd give you.
Your fingers made their way back up to your clit and you started rubbing faster circles against it while bucking your hips up, imagining it's Miguel's fingers.
A moan slipped past your lips and you tried your best to keep quiet as your fingers worked fairly against your bundle of nerves.
"Miguel-" you whispered before letting out a shaky breath as you held onto the blanket tightly with your left arm.
Just the thought of this big, smoking hot dilf climbing on top of you was almost enough to make you explode.
Fortunately your thoughts went broader than that.
Not only is he tall, and big but his cock would most definitely be the best thing you'd ever lay your eyes on. He'd be really thick and you'd probably struggle keeping him inside you.
He'd stretch you out to absolute perfect and you'd tighten around him so good he's be moaning out your name from how good your pussy feels.
You felt your slick seep through your panties and it only made you more relentless. You slipped your hand under your panties, and brought your two fingers to tease your hole.
You'd need the practice.
You dipped your fingers into your folds, just letting your fingers get soaked before finally slipping them both in making you whine.
You bite your lip to shut yourself up before slipping them in harshly, imagine that's how Miguel would fuck you. You feel yourself clench against your fingers as you start to fuck yourself immediately fast, needing him so fucking badly.
His cock would fill you up so good and you wouldn't mind if he came inside. You wouldn't want him to waste any of it.
You cover your mouth with the blanket let yourself moan into it, as you breathe him in with every inhale. You let out mumbled moans of just his name, as you start to fuck yourself harder, your immersion working better than ever tonight.
And it might've manifested into itself when you felt a gently tap on your shoulder which made you open your eyes, and freeze in fear.
It was Miguel.
"W-w-what are you d-doing back so e-early?!?" You ask as you felt your heartbeat increase rapidly.
But you couldn't seem to slip your fingers out. Unable to move and staring blankly ahead and not to your right as Miguel's body loomed over you.
"Finished what we needed to do faster than expected." He says and you could feel his gaze on you. It was hard to miss.
And you were growing more and more nervous by the second. "And this is what you're doing huh?" He whispers and it doesn't help your nerves at all but does make you clench against your fingers.
"I-I- I'm sorry-" you apologize feeling your body flush with embarrassment but get interrupted.
"A good hour before I was meant to come home too. Que pensaste?" He snarls and you hold your breath. (what were you thinking?)
Shit.
"Aww and gripping this poor blanket for dear life." He says in that teasing tone but you don't have it in you to look at him.
"No me lo esperaba de ti." He whispers and you take a deep breath. (I wasn't expecting this from you)
"P-perdón-" (S-sorry)
"Shh stay quiet..." he whispers and see him going down to his knees out of your peripheral.
"Let me appreciate you in some other way for what you've done for me tonight." He murmurs softly in your ear.
He then brings a hand down between your legs, before placing his hand on top of yours, fingers still buried inside you. Your lip was quivering and you couldn't believe this was happening.
And you're not dreaming.
He then pulls it away only to slip it under your sweats then panties before sliding his fingers between your folds. You whimpered and bucked your hips up, always a needy mess.
"What did I stay? Stay quiet." He coos in your ear, bringing his other hand up to your throat, lightly squeezing.
You finally turn your head to look at him only to smile at him before he leans in to kiss you. You kissed back immediately and he lets go of your throat and instead cups your jaw as you moan into his mouth. He pulls away making you pout, "No hagas que me repita nena." He whispers and you nod. (Don't make me repeat myself baby girl)
"Take your fingers out for me." He whispers and you nod, immediately listening.
You slip your fingers out and take them out between your legs. "Good girl." He murmurs and move his fingers down, teasing your hole with the tip of his finger.
"Miguel- fuck-" you moan then cover your mouth with the blanket again.
"Need more?" He coos and you whimper, nodding.
"Tell me." He whispers and you move your hand away.
"Please- I need you so fucking badly- por favor, te necesito- mmm te necesito tanto Miguel." You plead and he slides his fingers inside you. (Please I need you, I need you so much)
"Feel good huh baby?" He asks and you nod, unable to speak as his fingers start pumping into you fast.
You clamp a hand over your already covered mouth and try your hardest to keep quiet but his fingers filled you up. Two fingers, were able to feel fulfilling inside you.
"Estas tan hermosa mami." He whispers in your ear and you let out a muffled whimper, your walls clenching against his fingers. (You're so beautiful)
He left gentle kisses along your jaw, and neck while pumping his fingers faster and harder. You rolled your eyes back as you kept quiet, or tried to.
You bucked your hips up and tilted your head to the side as Miguel began sucking on your skin, leaving marks then kissing them after. Your walls clenched against your fingers and you could feel that familiarity in your lower abdomen.
"Te vas a quedar bien calladita para mi verdad?" He whispers making you gasp and nod. (You're gonna stay real quiet for me right?)
He starts fucking into you harder and curls his fingers up, hitting that sweet spot of yours with every thrust as you feel your legs begin to shake. Your eyes began to flutter and you tried to keep your eyes open, you wanted to how he'd react to you cumming.
You then feel his thumb rubbing fast circles against your clit which only makes it harder for you to stay quiet. You bit your lips and held all your moans in as your climax hit and your entire body starts to shake. You covered your mouth and breathed heavily as he fucked you slower, moving his thumb away.
You close your eyes and let out heavy pants as he stops and lets his fingers stay inside. "You did so good baby... how's that instead of money?" He whispered and you just gave him a drunken smile unable to have any thoughts.
"Still gonna leave you with both." He coos and kisses your cheek softly.
He pulls his fingers out slowly, then slips them out your juices dripping down and definitely staining your poor panties even more.
He slips his fingers out of your panties and sweats and then brings them up to your mouth which you instantly put into your mouth. You tasted yourself as your eyes fluttered and your breathing finally had calmed down.
You then let go of his fingers with a plop and he leans in, kissing you again but passionately. Tongue in your mouth, also wanting to have a taste of you. After a solid fifteen seconds he pulls away and murmurs, "Thank you for babysitting again. If you want you can stay the night, te ves muy cansada... pobrecita." (you look so tired, poor girl)
495 notes · View notes
yxami · 11 months
Note
Can we have more of the roomie rabbit? (I love himm) and if possible, with heavy toxic drama :p
Got it!
description: yandere hybrid roommate, gn reader, jealousy issues, bunny boy hybrid, yandere stuff, yandere issues, the whole nine yards
Tumblr media
Haru was a jealous bunny boy, you knew that, but did that really make it okay for him to be peeking through the blinds whenever you got home?
He’d act like he was sneakier than the greatest spy on earth but you knew he would always hastily plop himself down on the couch when you started unlocking the door.
You’d have to give him all your attention once you did come home or else you’d hear annoyed thumping on the floors of your shared home. He’d stomp around, but never expressing his feelings until he flopped in your lap, begging for attention.
If you were to bring something or somebody to the house, he’d get upset and make it hard for your friend to stay any longer than a few minutes. He already established with you that the two of you were roommates with benefits, so why was this person here!
You’d have to apologize to your friend about him and just chalk it up to a bad day.
As soon as you shut the door, he’d patiently wait for his long awaited head pats and snuggles until you took away that satisfaction by passing him with an annoyed look on your face.
“You’re not gonna cuddle with me?” He tagged along next to you, wondering why you just completely dismissed his obvious ask for attention.
“My friend didn’t even stay longer than 5 minutes, is there a reason?” You pushed the water heater button down that already held water in it. You planned to eat some instant noodle soup and head to bed right after. You had nothing planned so you might as well!
“I dunno, text and ask them” Haru hopped into the kitchen chair, watching you glare at him. He innocently grinned while his tail wagged behind him.
“So you have no clue why they suddenly wanted to leave?” You leaned on the counter to pressure him into saying the truth. You knew he was being an ass to them, but you wondered what exactly he said to them.
“Nope, maybe they got bored of you?” He leaned in as well, his face almost close enough to touch yours as his and your eyes stared into each others.
“You’re so annoying” Your hand pressed against his face, pushing it away from yours. He was holding in his irritated expression as much as he could. “You’re already accusing me and I didn’t do anything”
He went around the counter and held onto your shirt, hoping he could charm his way out of your accusations that were valid.
“What did you say to them, just tell me and I won’t get mad” You sighed, feigning a more exhausted mood then you actually had.
“I might’ve told them that they’re a waste of space, that they don’t deserve your attention, stuff like that” He looked up, trying to use his best puppy dog eyes to get you to hold him.
“Are you fucking serious?” You flicked his forehead, almost tempted to start a fist fight with this idiot.
“Hey! You said you wouldn’t get mad” Haru’s hands covered the middle of his forehead, an offended look permanent on his face for now.
“Yeah right! You’re such a little brat” You scoffed, more annoyed that he believed your lie.
He argued that you must feel better now that they weren’t bugging you but you just ignored him, no longer feeling up to some instant noodle soup.
He scratched at your locked door when you managed to slip in before he could. He was whining and begging for forgiveness, saying he wouldn’t do it again if you just came out right now and hugged him.
But you ignored and ignored, until his broken sobs stopped. You assumed you tired him out and opened the door, only to be pounced by the desperate bunny boy.
“Never do that again! Unless you want me running away!!” His puffy red eyes only made your heart sink with guilt. You knew his threat was empty but you still felt bad that you made him cry that much. But what else could you do when he thought it was okay to do that!
“I won’t ignore you unless you start acting like an asshole to my friends. I don’t care how you act with me, but my friends is where I draw the line” You sat up, still seeing that Haru was holding onto you as he sat in your lap.
“You should care about me more, not them!” He fussed over you trying to get up even more, but settled for being held in your arms as you did get up.
“I care about you a lot, but not enough for you to be acting like this” You sighed, sitting on the bed as he stayed in your lap for what little comfort he could get from you right now.
“It’s not fair!! You should only care about me!” The hasty sobs emitting from his throat only loudened, tears running down his cheeks just as quick. You made no response, just patted his head as you tried to comfort him.
It was going to take a lot of energy to get him to stop acting this way…
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ficsilike-reblogged · 8 months
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Invisible Smoke - Four
Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he doesn’t run.
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader (No Y/N)
Word Count: 10.9k
ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED
A/N: I do not keep a tag list!! Life is still weird but thank you all for sticking with this little story of mine. I really appreciate all the kind words you sent on the last chapter. Only one more chapter to go!
Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, stalking, bodily injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms. Also, Jake is a (stubborn) simp.
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Someone had slashed your tires.
Well, you shouldn’t say someone. You knew who had done it. It didn’t exactly take a doctorate to read the context clues—but you were pretty sure your insurance would drop you if you put in another claim, so you begrudgingly prepared to pay the hefty towing fee to the nearest tire shop and fork over even more cash for four new tires. This was one of the few times you wished your little bungalow actually had a garage. And god, you were so tired of this. So tired of the mind games he thought he was playing with you. He thought he was clever. But it was all just so repetitive. You had half a mind to just wait, out in the open, to let him do what he wanted just so it would be over.
It had only been two days since the dog fight football game and the following get together at the Hard Deck. Two days since you caught Jake’s eye at the water’s edge and felt your entire chest twist. He knew now. He knew what you were hiding.
You hadn’t been able to read the look in his eyes but Bradley had taken you aside before you slipped away for the night and basically told you that Jake, for better or for worse, was wanting and willing to help. “Give him a chance, Punch. Don’t you think he deserves that, at least? And you deserve to be happy.”
“When did you become a fortune cookie, Bradley?”
But you wanted to believe him. You did.
But Luke had made you glaringly aware that you weren’t really capable of having a relationship aside from a handful of hours with someone who’d forget your name by morning. You had expected to feel some sort of relief in knowing that Jake hadn’t wanted to wash his hands of you after learning about Luke, but all it did was make you feel like you were painting an even larger target on Jake’s back. He really did want to play hero, didn’t he?
You pushed the thought away as you texted Natasha, telling her you’d be late for brunch and she was quick to tell you not to worry about the tow, she’d send one of the boys to get you to the tire shop. You were expecting Bob and his reliable GMC; he’d been invited to brunch as well anyway.
But a familiar Ford F-250 pulled up instead and Jake stepped out of the cab, looking like a GQ model in a tight Henley and jeans that hugged his thighs a little too well to be fair. He looked at your car and your destroyed tires for just a moment before turning his gaze to you. Your heart gave an answering leap but you tried to not let it show and rolled your shoulders back as he took wide strides toward you.
“Did he do anything else? Did you check your windows-”
“You shouldn’t be here.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could even pretend to think of a more polite greeting.
Jake arched an eyebrow before setting his hands on his hips. “Well, that’s just too damn bad, Punch. I am here and I’m not leaving until you tell me what's going on. Now, did anything else happen?”
You wanted to send him away. Wanted to keep him safe. But he was here. He was here and looking at you with those stupidly beautiful green eyes. “It’s just the tires,” you muttered, giving in. At least in this regard. You could handle everything else later.
Jake’s mouth set in a thin line before he moved to look at your tires again. He dug at one of the tears, the edge of his finger easily passing through the ruined rubber. “Jesus.”
Perhaps you should have been surprised when he turned back to the bed of his truck and pulled out a tire and then another and another until four new tires were stacked neatly beside your car. But you had a feeling Jake would always be three steps ahead of you. Infuriating.
“Please tell me you didn’t buy me new tires.”
“All right. I won’t tell you that.”
“Seresin, you can’t be serious. Tell me how much I owe you.”
Jake leaned forward just enough to steal the keys from your hands and popped open your trunk before handing them back. “I don’t want your money.”
“Well, that’s too fucking bad,” you retorted as you followed him to the back of your car. “Tires are expensive! I can afford it. Just let me pay you! You’re already saving me money by not making me take a tow truck. And I might actually make it to brunch on time because of you, too. If you don’t give me an amount, I’ll have to guess.”
Jake moved the mat in your trunk and found your jack and tire iron and then gently grasped your hand that you’d set on the lip of your trunk and moved it before closing it. He then tugged you closer with that damn dimpled smirk and stared down at you with his stupid green eyes. “I’m not taking your money.”
“I will shove money into your pockets at the most inopportune moments and ruin every conquest you set your eyes on.”
But the threat fell flat as Jake’s smirk widened. “So, you’re planning on sticking your hands down my pants…repeatedly?”
Heat washed over you in an angry wave and you pulled your hands out from under his with a grimace instead of a snarl. “Only you would say something like that.”
His smirk continued as he stepped back and set the jack beneath your car and started to twist. “I’m not taking your money.”
“I’m paying for your drinks at the Hard Deck forever.”
“No.”
As he twisted the jack, your eyes were drawn (inevitably) to how his sleeves strained with his moving muscles. That shirt was fighting for its life and you were ogling him like a piece of meat (again). This whole situation was ridiculous! The man who’d tried to kill you twice had slashed your tires and you were flirting (possibly, maybe) with Jake like you didn’t have a care in the world. All of this was wrong. And incredibly stupid.
“Whatever. I’ll do what I want,” you lamely replied, hoping it sounded stronger than it felt.
“I’m sure you will, Punch.” Each word was dripping with something you couldn’t and wouldn’t name and you hated that Jake was able to easily have you smiling when he was there to fix a problem you created.
The tires were changed out within an hour and you invited Jake inside for a glass of water and asked if he wanted to tag along to brunch, it was the last you could do, right?
“I wouldn’t want to intrude-”
“You’re not intruding. Bob’ll be there, too.” The brunch had been an impromptu plan anyway, cobbled together while you’d worked on Natasha and Bob’s jet and listened to Maverick and Cyclone berate the Top Gun students who had started another fight on the tarmac (apparently having learned nothing from the dog fight football games). You’d just been happy your pilots hadn’t been caught in the crossfire this time.
Jake looked at you over his half-finished glass of water and you had to keep yourself from shrinking away from his gaze. His glass clinked against the linoleum as he finished and you tried not to notice how he licked his lips free of the last few droplets of water. “So?” You pushed out, trying to keep your voice level. “Wanna come along?”
Jake’s silence turned at something in your stomach and Bradley’s not-at-all true observation was echoing at the back of your mind before Jake’s smirk returned. “You’re going to try to pay for brunch, aren’t you?”
You hadn’t even thought about it but… “Well, I invited you, so-”
“No.”
You groaned, snatching the glass from him and setting it in your dishwasher as Jake chuckled behind you. “You’re being a child.”
Jake rounded the corner, pushing further into the kitchen behind you, and crossed his arms over his chest (and no you weren’t looking at his arms again). “Why won’t you let me do anything nice for you?”
You frowned and matched his stance and crossed your arms, too. “I let you do nice things. You came with me to Junior’s party with me.”
“After you drove me there and tried to have me take credit for your gift and you introduced me to that group of brass to help me with my career.”
“That was a coincidence.”
“But you still did it.” He stepped closer and you hated that it was instinctual to take a step back, too. “Want to tell me why everything I do for you has to be reciprocal?”
That wasn’t the question you were expecting and your fingernails dug into the meat of your arm as you tried to keep your face neutral. “There’s give and take to everything. And I… You should just let me pay you.”
“I’m not gonna let you pay me, Punch. And you’re going to learn that not everything is a give and take. Who taught you that, anyway?”
God. You hated this. You hated these questions and the soft look in his eyes. “Does it matter?”
“Of course it matters,” Jake scoffed.
“Why?”
You could see Jake’s jaw clench, tendons working and tightening. But as quickly as it started, it stopped. He just shook his head and the tense silence in the kitchen continued to stretch until it was finally broken by Jake’s next question. “Are we ever going to talk about it?”
And you knew what he was asking. And you wanted to hate that he was connecting dots that you had tried to erase. “What is there to say? You know everything now.”
“I heard it from Rooster, not you. It is your story, Punch.”
“Rooster knows it just as well as I do, I think,” you muttered with a shrug, trying not to shrink away from him. “What else is there for you to know?”
Jake stepped forward, enveloping you in the scent of his expensive cologne and tinge of jet fuel that seemed to cling to him as he closed the distance to stand at your side and brush his arm against yours. “I want to know everything. Haven’t I told you that?”
You gnawed at your lip for a moment before stepping away from the counter. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Luke was an asshole then and he’s an asshole now. I should’ve seen the signs, I get that. I do. But he was so good when he wanted to be. And after being an afterthought for most of my life, it was nice to pretend that someone was choosing me.” This was just pathetic. Stop talking. Stop talking. If he hadn’t thought of washing his hands of you before, he was surely doing it now.
“What do you mean you were an afterthought?”
You rolled your shoulders and turned just enough to look at him before glancing at the little clock above your oven. “Doesn’t matter now. But, if we leave in the next five minutes, we’ll probably beat Natasha and Bob to brunch. So, are you coming?”
**
The ride was mostly quiet on the way to the restaurant Phoenix had picked overlooking the water. But Jake knew you were thinking about telling him something else as you sat in his passenger seat, watching the road pass your window. So, he just told himself to be patient. Again. It was a bright spot to finally know what you looked like in his truck. God knows he’s imagined it more than he’d like to admit, like some lovesick teenager.
You were picking at your cuticles without taking your eyes off the passing scenery. Jake had never seen you nervous, not like this. Even when the Daggers had to ship out for a short deployment and you had to watch them all take off from the carrier, you didn’t act like this. He watched you lean forward just a bit and your eyes narrowed and then it clicked. You weren’t watching the world go by—you were keeping an eye on the cars following the truck in the side view mirror. You were making sure Luke wouldn’t try to run you off the road again.
Jake looked in the rear view mirror and saw sedans, coupes, and a handful of SUVs, and a smaller number of trucks. But not a single black charger. It was clear for now. But you still picked at your cuticles and didn’t peel your eyes from the window.
Jake reached out and set a hand over yours, stilling your picking. You jumped under the touch and Jake curled his fingers over yours a little tighter, trying to anchor you to something else a little less destructive. “We’re okay, Punch, all right?”
You looked at him and Jake hated that he had to look at the road for safety purposes when you searched his face for something. “For now,” you said in return, once again turning to look out at the cars.
Jake squeezed your hand again and didn’t let go even as you muttered the next handful of directions to the restaurant. He awkwardly shifted into park and took the keys out of the ignition after finding a spot in the steadily filling lot. Your shoulders were slumped as you turned back to him, face unreadable except for the pinch between your brows that he wanted to smooth with a brush of his thumb.
(Maybe one day.)
“All right. We’re gonna go in there, eat our weight in overpriced waffles and then I’m going to take you home and double check your windows and locks. Okay?”
Your eyes swept up to look up at him and Jake felt that familiar warmth starting to unfurl in his chest. Your thumb swept over his knuckles but he wasn’t sure if you were aware you were even doing it. “I can’t afford to buy you your weight in waffles.”
Jake barked out a laugh and shook his head. “You’re not going to buy me brunch. Stop trying.” He had to bite back the pleased smile he felt growing when he heard your gasp after he raised your joined hands and pressed a kiss to your fingers.
“You are ridiculous.” Your voice was tight as it wheedled out from between your lips before you (slowly) pulled your hand from his and reached for the door handle. “C’mon. We need to get on the list.”
The air was tinged with the scent of sea salt and syrup as he followed you into the glass and metal building, already teeming with people. You were quick to give your name and group size to the hostess who said it would probably be a fifteen minute wait. Just as you turned to grab one of the oddly shaped bar stools near the door to it for your name to be called, Phoenix was striding in, too. She pushed her sunglasses up her hair before sweeping you into a hug with a loud kiss to your cheek. “I knew you’d beat me here.” Then her dark eyes dragged to Jake as he stood behind you. “Hangman. What’re you doing here?”
“He drove me,” you said. “I figured it would be fine.”
“Of course it is,” Phoenix said, waving it away but Jake knew the gleam in her eyes. She wasn’t quite finished. “You two arrived together?” She asked, eyes bouncing between you and Jake.
“Ken fixed my tires. Figured I could treat him to brunch as a thank you.”
Jake had to groan at that, knocking his hand into your hip and earring a halfhearted swat at his arm in retaliation. “I told you, you’re not paying for me.”
Phoenix hummed and anchored her gaze on Jake and he fought the urge to stand a little straighter. “Yeah. That was awful nice of him. When you told me that the neighbor kid slashed your tires, I thought Hangman would be a gentleman and drive you to the tire shop. Not fix them himself.”
Neighbor kid. You had lied to Phoenix? Granted, her text had just said that your tires had been slashed and that you’d needed help—it wasn’t exactly filled with details. Jake had assumed that she had known. But that didn’t matter now and he plastered his well-used smirk on his face. “Well, I’m a-”
“Don’t stroke your own ego, Bagman.” She then glanced at something over his shoulder and smiled. “Bob just got here. Bob!” She threw up a hand to grab the WSO’s attention and he jogged toward the group when he spotted her. He nearly collided with a waitress and they both apologized—profusely—before going their separate ways. By the time Bob reached their little group, his face was a vibrant and familiar shade of red.
“Nearly swept that pretty girl off her feet, Baby on Board.” Jake braced for the hit he knew was coming and winced when Phoenix’s fist collided with his arm.
The group was seated soon after and Jake had to bite back a grumble when Bob was the one to pull out your chair for you when you reached the table. When Jake went to do the same to Phoenix, she hit him again.
Bob was nearly the shade of a strawberry when he realized the woman he’d nearly bowled over would be your waitress and nearly dropped his silverware roll when he noticed her striding over to the table. Food was ordered—both you and Jake ordered waffles while Phoenix wanted to try the brioche French toast and Bob wanted eggs Benedict with steak—and mimosas (and pineapple juice for Bob) were poured as Phoenix regaled the table with her run-in with a guy at the gym on base. The Ensign hadn’t realized Phoenix a) outranked him and b) wasn’t interested in bulging muscles and whatever the younger man could(n’t) provide. The interaction ended when Phoenix “politely” challenged him to a friendly competition to see who could handle more weight while doing hip thrusters. Phoenix started out with thirty pounds more than him and he called her a dyke so she had him barred from the gym and probably had a meeting with his commanding officers on Monday, too.
You giggled and tipped your mimosa flute into Phoenix’s before you both took a sip. It was good to see you smile like that.
The waitress came by a few minutes later with the food and she was quick to divvy up the plates but Jake watched her make sure Bob’s was the last plate and she stood at his side and carefully set it down, making sure to bend down just enough to brush against his arm. “Careful, the plate is hot,” she practically purred.
(Phoenix quickly had Jake’s laugh turning into a poorly disguised cough when she sent him a look across the table.)
“I’ll be careful. I can handle it.”
Then the waitress actually giggled and stood straight, setting her hand on Bob’s shoulder for just a moment. “I’m sure you can. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” She then turned and walked away with an exaggerated sway in her hips which Bob completely missed because he was busy unrolling his silverware.
The group watched him as he carefully cut into his meal and shoved a bite between his lips. He went to take another when he noticed the stares. “What?”
“Robert,” you started, voice strained to avoid a giggle. “She was flirting with you.”
His fork froze before it reached his mouth.”No, she wasn’t. She told me the plate was hot.”
Phoenix reached over and patted her back seater’s shoulder. “Oh, Bob.”
The other man’s blush returned and he shoved the bite between his lips. “How is telling me that the plate is hot flirting?”
Jake shook his head and fought a smile of his own. “Listen, do you like her?”
Bob chanced a glance at the waitress at the hostess booth and immediately ducked his head when she caught him and wagged her fingers at him with a wink. “She’s beautiful.”
“But?” Jake prodded, hearing a slight hesitation. He had always been good at reading people (you were an exception), and Jake had played therapist to a handful of the Daggers since he proved he could be someone other than Hangman. He wanted Bob to be happy.
“But I don’t know. She looks like she’d eat me alive.” He fiddled with his fork. “Can we talk about something else?”
Jake was the one who shifted the conversation to the insufferable group of Top Gun pilots that would thankfully be leaving soon enough. A friendly bet was placed on who everyone thought would actually get the trophy and Jake tried not to smile too much when Bob knocked his foot into his as a quiet thank you and you, seemingly unaware of Bob’s quiet gratitude, set your hand over Jake’s arm for a moment in your own show of appreciation. As soon as it happened, it was gone again.
That was okay. Jake was determined to have it happen again.
Brunch continued on and finished after another round of drinks and splitting a funnel cake that the waitress insisted they try. Jake was sure the woman pouted after not receiving Bob’s phone number when he signed his check but he wouldn’t mention it. Jake liked this strange bit of normalcy. With you. He even if both Bob and Phoenix made vague threats against his life if he hurt you. Jake was determined to have more of these moments with you. Even if you grumbled about Jake hustling to get to the truck before you so he could open your door.
The tension in the cab on the way to brunch was absent now and Jake didn’t even care when you teased him about his choice in radio stations—calling him a cliche for listening to early Tim McGraw. But you said it with a laugh and Jake had to laugh, too. He liked that it was you who brought up Bob and his interactions with the waitress.
“I want Bob to be happy. And he’s mentioned once or twice that he’d like to have a family.”
Jake thought for a moment before the perfect person popped into his thoughts. “I know a girl.”
“No, you don’t. I don’t trust your taste in women.”
And Jake had to laugh at that. Had to. You were his taste in women. But the person he had in mind for Bob would be perfect. “She’s a CPA. Wears glasses. And she only drinks ginger ale despite helping Penny with the Hard Deck’s taxes. And she’s the only person outside of Texas that I trust with my tax return.”
Your face scrunched and Jake knew you were thinking it over. “Just because they both wear glasses and have an affinity for Seagram’s doesn’t mean they’d be a good match.”
“Just trust me. It might take a minute to get her to look him in the eye-”
“She’s shy?”
“So shy. It’s adorable. And just what Baby on Board needs.”
You scowled at him but he knew you didn’t really mean it when you knocked your shoulder into his over the center console a moment later. He eventually pulled into your driveway and threw the truck into park before turning to you but you were scrambling out of your seat and up to your front door before he could even get a word in edgewise.
Oh.
Jake wasn’t sure if he’d ever been rejected as soundly as that before. But then he saw you waving him forward from your front stoop and Jake nearly clocked himself in the face with the seatbelt buckle as he hurried to follow you inside. He shut your door behind him, engaging just two out of the five locks as you hurried toward something just down the hall.
“Punch?”
“Just a moment!” You yelled in return.
Jake resisted the urge to settle on the couch again, like he’d done weeks ago. Everything seemed different now. You weren’t trying to push him away and he could hear you shuffling something in the other room and he was suddenly struck with a daydream of coming home to you, waiting for you to notice his presence and smiling when you saw him. “You’re home!” As soon as the vision came, it was gone, and Jake shook himself a little as if that would help him forget what he’d conjured up. What he’d wanted since the moment you first called him Ken, even if he never admitted it out loud.
You walked back into the living room and slapped something down onto the small table you had lining the back of your couch.
“Whatcha got there, Punch?”
Your answering smile was all teeth, like a cat who got the cream and Jake saw that it was a fifty dollar bill as it peeked from between your fingers. “Well, I added up how many miles it is from base, to my house, to the restaurant, then back to my house and then guessed on how many miles you get per gallon. And, you use premium gas, right? Either way, this should be enough for gas, but if you use diesel, this should cover it.” You slapped another fifty atop the first after pulling it from your back pocket.
Jake looked at the stack of cash and then back at you before he sighed, a long put-upon sigh that he knew was obnoxious but it was worth it when he heard you try to stifle a laugh. God. You were relentless.
“First, I don’t know how to break this to you, but you’re awful at math. Like, so bad.”
“Hey!”
“And second, I’m still not taking your money.”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“I’m being a friend, Punch. Friends drive each other around and help them when they need it. And I’m willing to bet-“
“I’ll take that bet.”
Jake continued on, ignoring you, “-that you wouldn’t expect to be paid back if our places were switched.”
You pulled your lips into your mouth for a moment and drummed your fingers against the money. “I lost that bet. Guess you’ll have to take the money.”
Jake groaned but he could feel a laugh starting to bubble in his chest. “You’re impossible.”
**
It was too soon to call this a victory, but you were sure you were closing in on one. He would take the money and then you could pretend to feel fine about everything he’d done for you. Sure.
“Actually, I have something you could do if you’re so hellbent on paying me back.” Before you could ask what he meant, he was unlocking your door and jogging out to his truck and pulling something out, tucking it behind his back as he returned. “Can you sign this for me?”
Then he dropped a purple book in your hand and your stomach dropped to your feet as you looked at the gold lettering across the cover. “You snooped!” You said, too embarrassed to be angry. You held the book up to your chest as if that would guard you from his knowing look or the embarrassment starting to churn your stomach.
“You knew I would! Why’re you surprised?” His smile was back and he took a step toward you. You took a responding step back until he was crowding you against your bookshelf, hands landing on the shelves on either side of your shoulders. And it could have been a threatening stance, an unnerving cage, but all you felt was safe. Safe as he blotted out the rest of the world and it was just you and him and your books in the quiet of your home.
You should not feel like this, you knew that. It was stupid and dangerous and you couldn’t stop it. What had happened to your resolve that you had just yesterday for keeping him at arm's length?
Your fingers drummed against the paperback and you hurriedly flipped it open when your eyes tracked down to his mouth. Oh. “Should I sign it ‘To Ken?’ Or-”
“Could you actually sign it for my sister Mia? She reads your books in her book club.”
“Oh.” Was all you could say. That was…that was actually really nice to know. You knew people read your books; Danny had framed a newspaper clipping showing your second book reaching a top ten spot one of the Best Sellers lists and had gifted it to you for your last birthday. They were mildly popular, you knew that. But to actually be confronted with the fact that someone you vaguely knew was reading your books was something else. You reached back and grabbed one of the pens you kept in a cup on the shelf. “Mia? She’s your oldest sister, right?” A quick glance up at Jake had your heart twisting. His look was too soft. Too happy.
“Yeah, Punch. That’s her.”
You took the time to write your pseudonym with extra flair and then added a heart next to Mia’s name, too. “Is this for her birthday or anything?”
“She’s…” Jake paused for a moment. “She’s just going through a rough patch right now. Your books make her smile.”
The pen stalled on the page for just a moment before you shoved at his chest to get him to back up just enough to grab at your ARC for your newest book and quickly scrawled, Wishing you expensive champagne and good memories! Happy reading! You then signed your name again and added a half dozen hearts next to Mia’s name at the top of the page. You slapped both books against Jake’s chest with a frown. “That book hasn’t been released yet, so I may get in a bit of trouble with my publisher if she tells anyone.”
Jake’s hands covered yours on the books and the toe of his shoe knocked into your socked feet as he moved closer, dragging your attention back to his stupidly handsome face again. “She won’t tell anyone but I know I’ll probably get an earful about how I got them.” His thumbs brushed against your knuckles and you would swear that you could feel it behind your ribs. “Where’d you get that name anyway?”
You almost snorted at the way he phrased that question, like you found it on the side of a cereal box. “My parents were obsessed with Stephen King—they actually met at a book club specifically for King’s books. My sister, Georgie, was named after the kid who got their arm ripped off at the beginning of It. And my brother, Danny, is named after the kid in The Shining, Danny Torrance.”
“And you? I don’t think I’ve read your name in his books.”
It was a fair enough question. King had dozens of books and Jake didn’t seem like the type to clamor for the newest release. “I was named by my grandparents after they discovered the reasoning behind my sister’s name. If my parents wanted to stay in the will, I had to have a name they picked. Of course, when my brother was born, my parents picked something a little more innocuous so they wouldn’t rock the boat again. But, anyway, to actually answer your question; I took my siblings’ names as a sort of thank you to them. Georgie became Georgia and I took Danny’s literary counterpart’s last name. And Georgia Torrance was born. I wrote most of my books when I had downtime on deployments. I took a chance and sent it off to an agent and I got a nice contract with a moderately respectable publishing house. It isn’t Stephen King money by any means, but I can upgrade my plane ticket to Business Class if I wanted to once or twice a year.”
“Your parents must’ve gotten a kick out of that.”
You tried to fight the sigh you felt growing in your throat but lost. You also lost the wherewithal to keep a single secret from him. “I don’t know. I don’t really talk to them.”
“What?”
“After Danny got sick, all of their attention was on him, which I understand. I do. But I was still just a kid who needed her parents every once in a while. But it was like I ceased to exist to them until they remembered I could help with the hospital bills. Georgie was already out of the house and getting her degree and would call but it wasn’t the same. I kinda gave up on having a relationship with my parents after they forgot about my rowing meet and I waited to be picked up for three hours before eventually just walking home.”
“Punch-”
And once you started, you couldn’t stop, like a can of pop shaken and bursting. “Danny was hooked up to like six different machines and was high off his ass and he apologized for all the…all the bullshit. I told him it was unnecessary. He was sick. I’m just happy he’s healthy again.”
God. You really knew how to ruin every moment, didn’t you?
Jake set the books on the shelf just beside your shoulder but was quick to lean over you again and you hated how Jake really was a certifiable blueprint for a romantic literary hero. You could write a single description of him in your next book and you’d know it would skyrocket to the top of the Best Sellers lists but you had been actively avoiding trying to piece together a story from your life. And, as if he knew you were debating something, the bastard actually propped his other arm up on the bookcase and leaned over you. Oh god. He was doing the lean and was going to ask you something about your fucked up childhood.
Shit.
Alarm bells were ringing in your head, letting you know that this moment could be disastrous. So, you decided to not let it go on any longer. “Jesus. Sorry. I really know how to kill a good time, huh? I think I’ve taken up quite enough of your time for the day. Let me know what Mia thinks of the books, okay?”
You ducked beneath his arm, intent on leading him to the door, but Jake grasped your hand and pulled you to a stop. “No, c’mon, Punch. Don’t do that again. Don’t shut me out. I’m happy you feel like you can tell me stuff like that, that you’re comfortable enough to trust me with that. Don’t pull away again. Not from me.”
You knew that if you looked at him right now, his green eyes would be wide and pleading. So, you just didn’t look. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do right now. I don’t know why you’re doing this, Jake.”
“Doing what?” He asked softly, as softly as his hand on yours.
“Buying me tires? Driving me around? Being…being this fucking nice to me all the time when I’ve only been a dick to you?” You asked as you felt your chin wobble. “Why?”
Jake was quiet for a moment. Just a moment. “You know why.”
“No! No, I don’t because…” You couldn’t finish the sentence because then it was real, it would be real and you didn’t know how to deal with that again. You looked up at him and tried to remember what you were protecting him from. Pulling your hand out of his, you set your hands on your hips. “Because you can’t.”
Jake’s shoulders rolled before his lips set in a thin line. “I do. And I know you feel the same.”
You scoffed and tried to ignore the warmth in your chest that he was right. He felt the same. Wouldn’t that just be the worst? “You really think that highly of yourself? You’re so sure that I-”
Jake leaned closer and the rest of your argument stalled. You could smell the mint on his breath from the stupid toothpick he was chewing on in the truck just beneath the warmth of his cologne. God. He was intoxicating. You almost hated him for a moment because every ounce of fight you had drained out of you. “Ken.”
“Tell me to stop and I will.” He moved closer. Closer. Closer.
His warm hand skirted up your arm until it settled against the gentle arc of muscle between your neck and shoulder and the other settled on your hip. You could feel each of his fingers pressing into your skin like a brand. Every breath he took brushed against your mouth and you licked your lips without a thought as he leaned even closer.
“Last chance.” You could feel his smile against your mouth, growing with each syllable.
And you had to smile. Had to because he was your Ken and this felt inevitable. Jake was inevitable. “Do your worst.”
He kissed you and it was instantly all consuming. Surely, he could feel your smile, too. You actually laughed against his mouth as your hands pressed against his chest. Jake pulled back just enough for you to see his smile before he kissed you again, catching your bottom lip between his and tugging to have you gasping. His stupid, perfect teeth nipped at the skin and he was quick to soothe the sting with a flick of his tongue.
Then you were moving backward, guided by his gentle movements, until your spine went flat against the wall beside your bookshelves. The kiss was all smiling lips and searching tongues as Jake held you tight. Everything was warm and tinged with the mint on his tongue and Jake Jake Jake.
His thumb pressed into the hinge of your jaw and he sighed against your panting mouth. “So fucking good.” His voice was hoarse and you could feel it curling in your stomach.
But your entire body seized when you felt his hand move to wrap around your throat as his mouth continued to work against yours. You couldn’t help it; you flinched. The kiss ended abruptly as you pulled back despite you not wanting it to end. But it couldn’t be helped. Not yet. You watched an array of emotions flash across Jake’s face before it settled on despair.
“Fuck.” The single syllable was wrenched from his throat as he took a step back and his hands fell back to his sides and left you cold. “Fuck, Punch, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking, I-”
“W-wait…I just…” How could you even phrase this without sounding unhinged? “I just need a moment.” Your next breath rattled in your lungs but you still reached for his hand and raised it again, moving it just enough for his fingers to encircle your throat once more. The roughened planes and angles of his hand had you shivering but you managed to drag your eyes up to his and tried to not show how nervous you actually felt. “It… you can, if you want. I’d actually prefer to have some good memories of something like this instead of-”
The rest of your rambling was cut off as his lips pressed against yours. The grip on your throat grew a little more insistent, a little heavier, but nothing stronger than just a simple weight, an anchor at your pulse. His other hand smoothed up your arm to curl over your cheek just as he pried your lips apart, delving into your mouth to steal the building whine from your throat.
Your heart hammered behind your ribs as you felt the warmth of Jake’s hand bleed through your shirt as his palm brushed the side of your chest. He moved forward and your legs instinctively parted to accommodate the thigh he was shoving between yours and your next breath caught in your throat when the denim brushed against the crux of your thighs.
“Fuck,” you hissed when Jake’s lips seared a path across your cheek and down your throat to bite at your thrumming pulse. You hadn’t even remembered when your hands had dropped to wrinkle his shirt again but you still pulled him closer as every nerve ending sparked. And then-
“Dancing Queen, young and sweet, only seventeen!”
Immediately, you pulled away from Jake with a grimace as ABBA’s song continued to fill the air. “Oh Jesus, that’s Natasha’s ringtone. She never calls.” You ducked beneath his arm for the second time tonight and pulled your phone off its perch on the kitchen counter and answered it as you heard Jake sigh. Turning to look at him, you saw his head drop to his chest for a moment before standing straight again and following in your footsteps toward the kitchen.
“I asked Rooster out and I think he thinks it is just as a friends thing and I want to bash my head against the wall.” Tasha screeched, words running together in a rush. She continued on, explaining that somehow she and Bradley had been roped into helping Penny restock the Hard Deck before opening today and Natasha had (finally) acted on her (reciprocated) feelings after Rooster had been his usually flirty self the entire time and then dragged Natasha to the piano and made her sing along to Elton John’s Your Song. Jesus.
You looked over at Jake to see him looking at you with another soft look on his face and a bit of pink in his cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you mouthed to him.
He waved it away before stealing a quick kiss, too, that had your heart rate picking up again.
“Punch? You there?”
You pushed out a breath and shook your head as you pressed a hand to Jake’s chin, keeping him from doing it again. You could feel his self satisfied smirk against your fingers. “Yeah. I’m here. And, um, I don’t know. I think you’d be surprised with Bradley. He’s probably picking out his nicest Hawaiian shirt in preparation.”
Tasha groaned but you had to smile because Jake nipped at your fingers. “You think?”
“I do. It is gonna be great. I know it.”
She sighed, crackling the line, but eventually agreed. “He can’t be that oblivious right?” She asked, making you both laugh. “Also, don’t think I’m forgetting about you and Hangman coming to brunch together. We’re gonna talk on Monday.”
“You don’t forget anything, Tasha. I’m well aware.”
You eventually said your goodbyes after promising her you would talk to her on Monday and then dropped your phone on the counter again and your hand from Jake’s mouth.
“I never thought you’d be a tease.” His tone let you know he was joking but you also could have guessed with the smirk pushing at his mouth, too.
Your jaw dropped for a moment before an embarrassed giggle rippled out of you. “I said I was sorry! I was worried!” Biting your lip as you looked at him, you shook your head. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
“It was quite the moment, huh?” His smirk had fallen to a soft smile despite his self assured words.
“Yeah, it was.” You didn’t even want to tease him now but then a small voice whispered at the back of your mind that it wasn’t a moment to him. After all, who would want-
“Steak or seafood?” He asked, knocking the rest of your thoughts right out of your head.
“What?”
“I have a list of restaurants that I want to take you to, if you’re willing to let me pay and bring you flowers.” The usual bravado that bled through all of his words wavered now. Was he nervous?
“Sounds like you’re asking me out on a date, Ken.”
“I’m trying here, Punch. So? Steak or seafood.”
Hope and happiness were blooming and twisting and growing within the confines of your ribs now. He wanted to take you out on a date. “I’m allergic to shellfish,” was all you could say through your smile.
“Steak it is. I’ll update my list when I get home.” He reached out and swept his thumb across the slope of your cheek and you found yourself leaning into the touch a little more. Jake seemed content to just hold your face in his hand for a moment before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your temple. “I should go. I want to do this right with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to wine and dine you, darlin’. Want to earn those lips of yours again,” he said as his thumb moved to press at the heated skin of your bottom lip. “You deserve it. And I want to be the one to give it to you.”
For just a moment, you worried that Jake would hear how hard your heart was beating. No one had ever said anything like that to you before. “Oh.”
This was different. Jake was different. You just had to give him permission to show you.
“I’d like that.”
He smiled and stepped back, hand dropping back to his side. “You’re a good friend to Phoenix, by the way. Bradshaw, too.”
You smiled again. “They’re good to me. All of you have been.” Slowly, you herded him toward the door, knowing he had a plan.
He stopped at the door, just after you undid the locks. “Does Phoenix know?”
You shook your head, knowing exactly what he was asking. “It’s hard enough to be taken seriously in the Navy as a woman. She had her own battles, Luke was mine. I always thought she was so strong and, for a while, I thought she’d just see me as weak if she knew what I’d put up with. But I know now that is an unfair thought. Tasha is and always has been one of my best friends and staunchest supporters. I should tell her, right? And maybe I will, after all of this is over. I don’t…I don’t want anyone else I care about to be wrapped up in this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.” And you tried to ignore the sinking feeling that you had once again put Jake in Luke’s crosshairs.
But this time had to be different. It had to be.
Jake shook his head and cupped his hands at the back of your head before touching his forehead to yours. “We’re going to finish this, okay? We will.”
You nodded and smiled despite it all when he pressed another quick kiss to your forehead—it was like he couldn’t stop kissing you. And you weren’t about to complain. “Get home safe, Ken.”
You watched him get into his truck and waved as he pulled out and you knew he was telling you to lock your doors through the windshield. Your phone rang again just as he disappeared down the road and you knew by the way Jerry Lewis blared that it was now Bradley calling.
**
It had only been two days since Jake kissed you and had promised you a date. Two days and it was like the entirety of Top Gun was trying to keep you apart. You barely saw each other after he got roped into helping Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson into looking over the files of the next hopeful batch of aviators who could be called to San Diego. But it was fine. Sure. It wasn’t as if you could walk in holding his hand; you were still in the Navy and there were still protocols and rules you needed to follow. You had a feeling you and Jake would be breaking a lot of them.
You were kept busy with repairing Harvard’s jet after he managed to land safely after a bird strike. Your lunch breaks and evenings were spent talking to either Natasha or Bradley about their upcoming date-not-date while not revealing that you knew what the other was thinking. You did, however, mention to Bradley that Rueben and Mickey had started a betting pool about how long it would take Bradley to admit who he was in love with after Mickey spotted him with a pad of paper during lunch which was apparently filled with a speech about loving someone for years. You then spent the next hour workshopping the speech he was going to say to Natasha. It was beautiful and heartfelt and filled with analogies you tried to trim down (gently). He was still, annoyingly, assuming that their dinner on Wednesday was not a date in Natasha’s eyes but he was still going to try to confess his feelings and hope for the best.
You knew he’d be over the moon with how Natasha would react.
As Wednesday bled into Thursday, you were nearly dead on your feet but you’d been watching Natasha and Bradley all day, trying to decipher how their date had gone by their body language. You drove home that night without many answers but your phone rang just before you pulled down your street and quickly answered when Natsha’s name flashed on the screen.
“Hello?”
“He said he’s in love with me!”
“Hello, Tasha. How are you? I’ve had a great day. How was yours?”
“Oh, shut up!” She laughed. “I’m freaking out! He said he was in love with me—has been for years, apparently—and all I did was kiss him afterward. That’s not fair, right? I also need to have a speech. I can’t let him win this. I want to do a PowerPoint.” You had to mute your phone at that so she wouldn’t hear you snort. Everything was a competition. “Do you have that picture of me and him from Mav’s birthday last year?”
“I do,” you said, knowing exactly which one she was referencing. It was of Bradley and Natasha at the piano. Bradley had just led everyone through a rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ for Mav and there was still a flush on his cheeks. Natasha was right next to him in a stunning blue dress and smiling at him. It was the picture you promised to yourself that you would show at their wedding. You rushed inside, pinning the phone between your ear and shoulder and hurriedly shut the door behind you before darting toward your bedroom without bothering to turn on any of the lights—you said you’d drop it off at her apartment as soon as you’d found it. You were going to be in and out. You flopped onto your stomach, overturning the small mountain of pillows you had at the headboard, before grabbing at the storage container beneath the bed frame. You hauled it up and onto the bed and flipped the lid. To your chagrin, your “filing” system was essentially nonexistent when it came to photos and you started to sift through them as Natasha continued to talk, telling you about the date she’d planned and laughing about how much Bradley had stumbled over his speech.
God, it was so nice just to hear her laugh. They were going to be happy together. You knew it.
A door opened and closed slowly in the distance—your neighbor must’ve finally sprayed his door with WD-40 because it didn’t creak. Good. It only took him three years. But your heart nearly stopped when you heard your neighbor’s door open a few seconds later and its distinctive creak filled the night air. Something thumped down the hall and your spine went rigidly straight, still holding the phone to your ear as blood roared in your ears. You hadn’t locked the door. You had been inside for less than five minutes and you hadn’t thought it was necessary–you would have been leaving again soon anyway.
But you should have taken the time. A careless, stupid mistake.
The noise came again and sat up on bed, spilling the pictures in your hold onto your blankets. “Punch?” Natasha asked, pulling your focus. “You still there?”
“I…I think there’s someone in my house,” you whispered. Every part of your body was telling you to run. Right now. But where could you? Your house had one door and the person was in your living room.
Natasha was quiet for just a moment before whispering, “I’m gonna call the cops, okay? You hide.”
“N-no,” you hissed. “Don’t hang up. Stay with me.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll stay on the line with you, but-”
The line went dead with three terrible beeps and you wrenched the phone away from your ear to see ‘Call Lost - Try Again?’ written across the screen. No matter how many times you tried to call or text, nothing went through. The little icon at the top where you usually saw the lines denoting your network was now just a terrible X. The network was either down or whoever had come into your house had turned on a jammer. And you knew which was more plausible—but god, you had never wished for a network outage more.
Slowly, you slid off the bed and into the hall just as you heard the distinctive sound of a boot hitting the corner of your coffee table. Someone was in your house.
**
Mia had loved the books. Apparently her book club had ooh’d and ahh’d over the signed book but she had, as Jake knew she would, kept the copy of your newest book a secret but had rattled off her opinions to Jake. “And I can’t believe you know her!” She squawked on the other end of the line. It had been so good to hear the smile in his sister’s voice again. It was priceless. Jake had also evaded any questions as to who you were–it wasn’t his secret to tell–but he hoped that you’d be the one to tell Mia sooner rather than later.
It had been a good day. For the most part, anyway. He would have preferred to have had more than just a small smile and wave from you for the last few days, but he could be patient.
When Jake’s phone chirped with a new message, he’d expected something from Javy, keeping him up to date about the conversation he was hoping to have with his girlfriend’s father. The ring Jake had helped Javy pick out was burning a hole in his pocket and Jake hoped that his best friend would be able to plan a cool as fuck bachelor party and then make sure the whole wedding goes smoothly.
And maybe he could ask you to be his date. He could dance with you and make you smile and-
Any happy thought he had evaporated when he looked at his phone.
Someone broke into Punch’s house! I’m calling the cops!
Jake was in his truck before he could even think to type out a response and sped toward your house as the group chat started to explode with a barrage of texts he didn’t read. He knew who had broken in. There was only one possible answer.
Jake just hoped he’d get there in time.
**
You needed to get out of the house…or at least get to something you could use as a weapon. The baseball bat you kept near the bookshelves could work, right? Slipping further down the hall, you tried to tell yourself that you could get out of this.
Creak.
You clapped a hand over your mouth as you pressed your spine to the wall, trying to quiet your breathing.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He was in your kitchen. You knew the sound of hard soled shoes on the uneven tiles. Could you make a run for it? Could you trap him in the laundry room? That had to be your only option. You turned the corner into your living room and your stomach fell to your feet.
Luke was standing in your kitchen. Knife in hand. Waiting for you. He looked almost exactly the same as he did the last time you saw him. His brown hair was still cropped short. His brown eyes were still narrowed and cold. His clothes were rumpled designer brands. He hadn’t changed. And that was terrifying.
You dove for the baseball bat, curling your hands around it before you turned and swung blindly. The bat cracked against his arm and Luke yelled, low and guttural as he staggered backward for a moment. But then he was lunging forward and grasping at the bat to wrench it out of your hands. He threw it across the living room and it smacked against the wall, shattering the glass in two frames before knocking them to the floor with a terrible crack. You couldn’t go for it again. There was no way past him now.
You should have aimed for his head.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, baby?”
You cringed at the nickname but didn’t take your eyes off the knife in his hand.
Luke didn’t wait for an answer to his question before barreling on. “And look what you’ve done. Got all those nice pins on your shirt, moving up in the ranks, and…” he paused as a smirk slithered across this mouth, “you got my dad’s money. A nice little nest egg.You’ve done well for yourself, haven’t you? And you didn’t have to work for any of it.”
He took a step forward and you took one back, ankle colliding with your coffee table.
“And what about me? I’m so glad you asked!” He snarled. “I’ve been dishonorably discharged. And you want to know why?”
“I had nothing to do with that, Luke. W-we had an agreement, remember? I keep my mouth shut and you…you were supposed to stay away from me.”
Luke’s tongue clicked against his teeth before he waved the knife. “You had everything to do with it. That LoA in my file was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I could’ve been given another chance if you had just kept your mouth shut when I told you to back in the-“
“I didn’t say anything. You were going to get Bradley killed!” The words bubbled out of you before you could think of the repercussions.
Luke was on you in a flash. The tip of the knife pressed over your sternum and you could feel it with each labored breath you sucked in between clenched teeth.
“He would’ve been fine! I know how to do my job! You ruined everything and then took my dad's money!” The knife pressed closer closer closer. It started to tear through the thin material of your shirt and shallowly cut your skin. The whimper you felt blooming in your throat died when you saw the gleam in Luke’s eyes.
Before you could even stop to think of an alternative, you threw your hands up and caught the knife. The edge sank through the delicate skin between your fingers and into your palm but you didn’t recoil. Couldn’t. You were only able to drag the knife down, the tip cutting against the skin just above your stomach.
Fresh pain bloomed across your face and it took you a moment to realize that Luke had slapped you. And then he did it again, making sure to send your head flying backward to slam into the wall hard enough and have stars dancing in front of your eyes. Your grip almost fell, loosening a fraction, and just for a moment everything was silent.
Just a moment.
You’d never be able to describe the pain that bloomed as Luke moved and drove the knife in, slotting it between your ribs and twisting with a vicious flick of his wrist. Your next breath stalled just behind your tongue as every nerve ending exploded with heat and teeth and a terrible popping sensation bubbled beneath your skin. “L-Luke…”
He pushed the knife deeper as he pressed his cheek to yours in an echo of the hugs he used to give you. “I used to miss you, you know. Did you miss me? I treated you so well. I was good to you. So good. I gave you everything.” The knife rocked back and forth and you felt the ridge of it with each movement. You felt all of it. Your grip faltered against the knife gain but you knew you couldn’t drop your hold.
He would kill you.
“And you had to ruin it. You ruined my life.”
“L-Luke…”
“I need to hear you say it, baby. Tell me you know what you did. You had this coming. All of it.”
“I didn’t,” you wheezed. Your chest was collapsing in on itself like you had a boar sitting on your sternum.
“Say it! You don’t get to play victim this time. You were the one who ruined my life.”
“You were a d-drunk! I did all that work for you until you told me you’d kill me if I made you l-look bad again!” Each word was a crack against your ribs, sharp and biting, but you couldn’t stop. This would be your only chance to say this, you knew it. If you were going to die tonight, you were going to let him know what you really thought of him. “You…” You sucked in a breath that only served to make you ache. “You only got through basic because your daddy bribed someone. You only got into the Navy at all because he made a phone call to someone after you failed the ASVAB. You…you fail at everything you do. You were a shitty AD. And you couldn’t kill me.” Blood dribbled out of your mouth and you felt it slid down your chin. “Twice. So you better make this count.”
Luke’s teeth glinted in the low light and he ripped the knife out only to plunge it back in. You felt the blade scrape against the edge of your hip as you let out a scream that fizzled out to a gurgle as more blood filled your mouth.
“I’ll make it count!” Luke seethed as he drove the knife deeper and pushed you into the wall.
Everything burned. Everything ached. And all you could do was scream as your knees knocked together, strength dribbling out of you with each frantic pulse of your heart.
Luke leaned forward to press his forehead against yours and the knife twisted. “Do you feel it, baby? Do you feel me inside you?” His breath smelled of the expensive cognac you knew he liked to guzzle and rolled your stomach.
“Luke.” You didn’t want to die looking into his eyes. You didn’t want to die at all, but you weren’t going to have your last earthly memory be of Luke and his cold eyes, so you shut your eyes as the tips of your fingers started to tingle.
The screech of a siren broke through the haze of your mind. You had to laugh but that, too, was cut short when Luke pulled the knife out and rushed toward the window to see the night sky filled with red and blue lights. You crumpled. Your hands slapped against the floor for just a moment before you slumped in a heap against the carpet as your arms gave out.
You vaguely heard your front door slam against the wall and knock another picture from its perch. There was an answering sound of glass shattering before warm, rough hands gently grasped at your shoulders. You struggled for just a moment when your scrambled brain thought Luke had come back to make sure you were dead. Unfocused eyes barely registered Jake kneeling above you.
“Punch? Punch, c’mon darlin’. There you are.” His voice was muffled but you felt yourself smiling anyway as everything started to prickle like you’d pinned your limbs beneath your weight for too long. The smile quickly died when Jake’s hands clamped down over your wounds and a surprised yelp punched out from between your teeth. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but I gotta stop the bleeding.”
“I-it hurts.”
“I know. I know it does. But it’ll only hurt a little longer, all right? You gotta stay awake for me. The cops are almost here.” His grip tightened. “We’ll get you fixed up and-”
“Where’s…Luke?” Was he still in your house? Would he hurt Jake?
“I don’t know, darlin’. He’s gone. We’ll find him, okay? We’ll find him and he’ll never do this to you again. But I need you to stay awake.”
Black dots were pushing their way into your line of sight, blotting out Jake’s worried face. “Ken…Jake…I wanted to get steak with you.”
Jake pressed harder and you could only whimper. “We will go get that steak. It’ll be the best date.” His voice was muffled, like you had shoved your head under water. And you struggled to hear him at all.
“Promise?” You asked, blood on your teeth.
“I promise.”
You smiled, despite it all. And then you were gone.
605 notes · View notes
brisquad-unit-4402 · 2 months
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Hello can I request Luxiem reacting to you taking off their engagement ring (assuming them and reader are engaged)? The situation can differ per member. Also if you’re not comfortable doing all members then at least Vox, Shu and Ike will be okay. Thank you!
oooo i saw “the situation can differ” and i took the fattest sip out of my coffee. i love drama. if you’re looking for something specifically fluff or angst with your oshi i hope the rng works in your favor
tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, engagement and marriage, fluff, angst, breakups, arranged marriage, misunderstandings, unrequited love alternate universe, reader gets sold to one direction, i popped off a little too hard on some of these so sorry if you can detect a bias 😔
⚠️ forced marriage, implied dubcon (non-explicit), yandere(?) in vox’s entry
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
🖋 Ike Eveland
Ike spent all the time in the world examining every last ring at the jeweler's with the eye of a detective, whittling down each choice until he found the perfect ring to propose to you with.
Now he looks back at the white gold and how it reflects his face as he holds it up close, glasses up on his forehead while his nearsighted eyes take it in. The diamond in the center divides his reflection up in facets that gleam even as his shadow covers the overhead light, while the two sapphires on either side make the blue in his eyes all the more prominent.
He thought he had it all planned out, and he wasn't so presumptuous that he knew everything would go like how his wildest dreams unfolded, but he thought he had done at least something right. The moment he got on one knee was the number-one proof there was magic in the world.
So why, then, isn't the engagement ring in its rightful place on your hand?
He turns it over, inspecting the band as if there would be a clue engraved on the metal. Nothing, and it makes the growing panic in his head all the louder. You've already left the home much earlier that day, and he hasn't gotten a single text from you since. That's not surprising—he's clingy but not so much that he needs updates from you 24/7—but it's gnawing at him. You were so happy when he proposed that you cried with him, and your eyes rarely left the band around your finger. You swore you'd never leave it behind with wet eyes and the biggest smile in the world.
The memory just makes Ike all the more confused. He found it in the bathroom, on the sink counter like just any old piece of jewelry, even though you always keep it on your nightstand in the same place every day. It's a ritual to slip it on every morning and take it off every night, and there's been more than a few times Ike placed it on your finger before anyone's left the bed, as if the magic of the proposal still lingers with every day he's your fiancé.
At least, he thought it did. Something about plans and not being presumptuous, and doing something right. Or God forbid, doing something wrong.
He clutches the ring closer in his hand as he kneels on the bathroom tile, the cool metal turning warm with how long he's been holding it, while he puts the last few days on replay. Did he ruin something without noticing? He dreads the thought, and when he can't think of any recent transgressions, he tries to recall every day since the proposal.
Anxiety dyes the memories over. He always treasured every moment, even the imperfect ones where he's made a fool of himself (because what else is he supposed to do when he's in love like nothing else), but now he's starting to realize that he could've done better. He should've done better.
He's so lost in his thoughts and the labyrinth of deceit they invite that he doesn't recognize the world around him, even as the home comes to life while he sits still. He ignores the latching of keys and doors opening and closing. The only thing that snaps him out if it is footfalls along the flooring, slowly growing in volume as they approach the bathroom, until they're interrupted by the door creaking open and—
"Holy—Ike! You scared me!" Your hands are raised, startled, but lower to your side. "I just got home, and I was wondering where you went and... Why are you on the floor?"
Count another moment of foolishness. Ike returns to the waking world, where he sits on his legs over the tile of the master bathroom of the house, hands cupped around the engagement ring and the one he cares for above all else behind him, and yet still he can barely muster the strength to raise his head, much less speak out loud.
"Reader," he says. "I, uh, I have a question."
The words end there, and too ashamed to look up, he brings his hands out instead. Diamond and sapphires shine through his palms.
He hears a sharp intake of air. A gasp. Of shock, certainly, but whatever fuels it is lost to him.
"No way, you found it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You plop down on the floor right next to your fiancé, leaning along his shoulder in disbelief. "It wasn't in any of my pockets, and I was just about to turn the house upside-down. Where was it?"
"I'm not sure how to approach this," Ike mumbles, before fixing his glasses and raising his quiet voice a bit louder. "It was in the bathroom."
"Ohh, that explains it. I probably took it off to wash my hands, then."
Ike falters. "Wh-what?"
"I usually take it off before getting my hands wet," you explain, as if it's the most mundane thing in the world. It is. "I know gold is waterproof, but I don't want it to lose its shine or anything."
"Right. The shine."
Ike Eveland, certified idiot, at your service.
The ring sits pretty in one hand while the other runs through his hair. Another foolish moment, but with your head up on his shoulder, his anxieties calm.
Fingertips rest along his palm, and when he looks at its source, you return the gaze. Your eyes sparkle nearly as bright as the gemstones, but your lids are lowered, trying to discern something. "Ike, you look like you have something on your mind."
"I do, don't I." At that, he muffles a laugh, fingers still tangled in his ashy hair. "No, I'm just glad that the ring reunited with its owner."
"Thanks again." You nod, the elated smile on your face fading into a dopey one. "Can you...?"
The exchange is wordless, and in his palm, warm. Ike takes the ring and turns it upright, while the hand it rested on takes yours instead.
Every morning when the both of you are too sleepy to even speak, he manages to treat your hands like fine crystal glass, and still he does now, with your palm resting under his grasp and fingers dangling out. The metal's temperature doesn't shock you at all. It's an extension of you, even when it was under Ike's watch.
Ike affixes the band with care, lashes and disheveled hair covering his eyes as he focuses, but you can discern the small, struck curve in his lips as he twists the band into place, certain it won't budge for the rest of the day.
You start to raise your hand, but before you do he gently tugs it back down, still focused on the way the engagement ring gleams. Then up at your knuckles, and higher on your arm until you can see a hint of green through the lashes. That green blinks back under his eyelashes as he lifts your knuckles to his lips.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
🦁 Luca Kaneshiro
It's late. You haven't checked the time in hours, but it's dark, and the false daylight from the old floor lamp in your living room cuts through the night in the window.
You should be asleep by now. You haven't gotten a good rest in what feels like forever. You've always been too worried, and when worry eased it turned into hollowness, even when the other side of the bed sinks with added weight.
You sit along the couch in the corner you always occupy on late nights when Luca is out. Whenever he comes back, he always wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. A metallic scent follows him.
The door opens. Warm arms envelop you. Squeeze. Lips against your hair.
You don't have it in you to smile.
He can tell. His grin falls as he peels back his gloves. They're tinted darker on the knuckles. "Reader. You've been so distant lately."
"I will be. It'll be better for me to stop seeing you. It's not safe." The dredges of all your past arguments curl into your throat.
It breaks your heart to see Luca so stunned. Months upon months cleaning and dressing his wounds, and you've never seen him so taken aback.
That's one of the reasons you can't go on like you used to.
"I've spent so much of my time telling you to watch yourself, and so much time just asking you to come home," you explain. "You know as well as I do you can take a break. But you don't.
"And I can't control you, but do you know how many times I've had to stay up just to know you'll be safe? To know I'll be safe?" Your fingers tense. "The gunfire outside, the spyware, I stopped ordering packages because ever since that threat last year I've been paranoid one of your enemies might actually leave a bomb at my doorstep. I don't know how you can do it, but I can't.
"And I've spent so much time alone."
Your eyes fall to the engagement ring on your hand. It's glamorous and gold, with tiny diamonds that line the band and frame the large diamond in the center like pawns to a king. Is that what you are to him?
You raise the back of your palm up, and the lamp makes the diamonds shimmer. "What does this even mean? You tell me you love me but you never give me your time anymore. You can't just do that, Luca. Not when I stay up night after night worrying what if you got shot, or stabbed, or kidnapped, and every night you don't come home or even send me a text I can't help myself from thinking that."
"I wouldn't." Luca's big purple eyes make contact with yours. The way his voice wavers and his face is set into a grimace, you know he's serious, and those purple eyes are honest. "I wouldn't get hurt and leave you by yourself like that."
"But you did! There are days in a row where I don't see a trace of you and consider calling in a missing persons case! Weeks, even, and so many times I have to patch you up after a fight!"
"I can take care of myself."
"And I want to take care of you! We're engaged, that means we're in it together, but I can't do this! I'm not some superhero mafioso like you. I'm just-"
Your throat tightens. You were doing such a good job at keeping yourself together, but the diamonds are your chain.
You rip the ring off yourself, and Luca watches in horror.
"I'm just normal."
The ring lands on the table, next to the water stains from the previous tenant. Your fiancé is motionless.
"I'll help you collect your things tomorrow when it's a decent hour," you snap, patience lost. "But you're not staying here. God knows you've found places to spend the night without me."
"We're not over," he says, utterly in disbelief.
"Yes, we are! You can't get it through your head that you're dangerous, and you can't even make up for it by being there when it matters. I'm not safe. How could I ever feel safe when the man that proposed to me is never around to actually protect me? You said you would when you got down on one knee, and ever since it's only been more danger! That's the opposite of what you promised me!"
You snatch the ring with one hand and his own in the other. He winces, and you can see a newly formed bruise where his own band glints up at you. Another late fight tonight, when he could've rested.
You push the engagement ring into his palm and force the fingers closed around it. He doesn't even protest. "Go home. Let me be alone like I know you're so good at doing."
"I'll be back for you. I'll make it right. I swear."
"You had your chance and you blew it. You're lucky I'm not changing the lock before you get your things." You leer, scorned and scarred. "We're done."
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
👟 Shu Yamino
Your hand shakes, and the engagement ring between your fingers glints in the lighting. The gold is stark against your skin even in the glow, with a pear-shaped stone in the center of the ring that catches the glow in little reflections off the surface of the fabric of your attire and your skin. They start purple, then gleam in subtle rainbows of fire.
It’s an elegant piece with slanted filigree wrapped all around like Shu's flames around your finger. The stone smiles, and when the light bounces off the facets, it giggles speckles of glitter against you.
Shu is so beautiful in white. His eyes are a brilliant royal purple just like the stone, especially as he blinks back tears, and even though his hair is braided back, a strand of hair strays by his right side. He spent the last twenty minutes blowing it out of his face nervously.
Your fingers graze over the gold. The fiery stone lets out a laugh as it slides off your finger.
Shu's hand meets yours. "Let me help you," he whispers, so quiet that no one could ever hear it but you. He shakes too, but he is together with you, and as you present him your right hand, the engagement ring finds its place on your right hand.
He produces another, one that the both of you picked out together. It, too, is gold, but simply bent upward in a point like a chevron. Two stones, one diamond and one deep purple, are placed on the side. One to represent each of you, set together in metal.
"I've been dreaming about this for so long," he admits. His voice is wet. You know your eyes are too, and even though you gingerly wipe them, you focus on how much care he puts into placing the band around your left ring finger, both hands trembling at the excitement.
It takes you time to find your words. Even as you bring out his ring, you're still speechless, and the weight of the gold is both air and boulder. "I love you," you say, because that's all you can think. His band matches the angle shape of yours, but the metal is thicker to fit his hands, and flat enough to reflect your ring alongside his. As you place it on his finger, you brush against his knuckles.
"Reader. Do you take Shu as your lawfully wedded husband, to live in matrimony, to have and to hold, in both sickness and in health, dedicated to him for as long as you live?"
"I love you, I do, I do, I do."
"Shu. Do you take Reader as your lawfully wedded spouse, to live in matrimony, to have and to hold, in both sickness and in health, dedicated to them for as long as you live?"
"I do. God, I love you." You don't retract your hand, and he wraps around yours. The gold weaves between your fingers. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
"You have pledged before these witnesses to be joined in marriage, and you have now sealed this pledge by exchanging these wedding rings. By the power vested in me, I pronounce you officially married!"
You barely hear the officiator before Shu leans in. You meet him where your wedding ring presses against his skin and the engagement ring spreads royal freckles across his face.
You're set alight, gold on gold, lip against lip. You take his first kiss of many as a newly married man.
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
👹 Vox Akuma
The Lord Akuma may be self-assured, but he knows when his intuition is trying to signal something, and so he approaches you with what you can already tell is hesitation. "My love."
"Lord."
"It has come to my attention—"
"There's a first for everything," you mock.
You know your attitude more than justifies the trepidation. Good. You'll admit that talking back to a noble is a death sentence, and anyone that dared to disrespect Lord Akuma’s name would be strung up for their rudeness.
However, you are not simply ‘anyone.’ You are the royal heir to a kingdom of your own, and your death would bring upon a far worse fate to the Lord than any public execution.
Lord Akuma’s harsh red makeup squints together as he leers—then sighs and tries again, shoulders still square as if that would intimidate you. “It has come to my attention that you reject our engagement.”
Years of etiquette has taught you otherwise, but now, you understand the commonfolk’s urge to spit on the shoes of another. “Of course I reject it. I would never marry someone like you.”
“As you’ve made it abundantly clear. You have my apologies if your time in my castle has been lackluster. Please, if the accommodations have been subpar, or the staff neglectful, just say the word. It will be handled accordingly.”
“I don’t give a damn about your castle. I’m not marrying you!” You snap. “You’re a disgusting pig of a warlord. My kingdom will never accept this.”
“Is that truly what you think?”
You nod, hair in your face and teeth gnashed together. “They’ll come for me. They’ll stand up against the empire we’ve been at war with for the abduction of their royal heir.”
“I’m afraid that’s not how it works, my love.”
“And quit calling me that!”
“Look at me.”
In an instant Lord Akuma lifts your chin with a finger, forcing you to face him even as you try to turn away. “But that is who you are.” Vox’s eyes, a pallid yellow most days, turn darker than sunsets. “Despite your kingdom’s political climate, you are no ruler. A heir, yes, but no ruler. Making your own choice in marriage was never an option.”
He produces the ring, a gold band in a traditional style practiced in his empire alone. You’re no jeweler, but it’s clear it’s a heirloom passed down from blood to blood until it fell into Lord Akuma’s hands. You don’t need a artisan’s knowledge to know those rubies feel much heavier than they look, either.
“I was heartbroken to see you left this behind in your room,” Lord Akuma said, coolly and evenly, and certainly not heartbroken at all. Ice slides down your spine as you realize that hesitance wasn’t out of fear at all. No, you’ve underestimated him entirely. “Especially after the true rulers of your kingdom, your parents, accepted the terms and gave me their blessing.
“If you see me as simply a political figure, then I’m sure you can recognize you aren’t half of the politician you claim to be.” His grin grows wider. “Perhaps a bargaining chip is a better title.”
Your vision flares red, then white as you thrash. “You—“
“Hold still.”
Lord Akuma’s grip is startlingly strong. His nails dig into the sides of your cheeks as he shoves you against the wall.
As much as you try to slip away, the Lord Akuma is the general of his army as well as a noble, and has dealt with much more cunning minds than yours. He pins you down, hot weight pressing your arm away while he catches your left hand.
“It would be wise not to resist me,” he commands.
Still you writhe, even though Lord Akuma shifts his weight to disable you further. Your knuckles are turning white under his grip.
Your strength is on the verge of giving out, now that the adrenaline is wearing off, and Lord Akuma is no longer shocked. You grunt and force every last bit of energy into your fist, but his fingers weave around yours, pulling your fist apart until he wrests the ruby ring onto your finger.
“You bastard,” you hiss. You must be a wreck right now, in improper dress and sweltering under Lord Akuma, and with every last courtesy abandoned in your hatred. The exhaustion from the fight fuels both anger and humiliation, especially now that Lord Akuma is so close. “You’re sick, Lord Akuma.”
He looks down at you, and has the gall to look disappointed. “My love, your fiancé’s name is Vox.”
You growl. “I hate you, more than anything.”
Vox is barely an inch away, and grins as he closes the distance. His teeth point daggers. “Then kiss me like you hate me.”
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi
255 notes · View notes
nvoirs · 11 months
Note
yandere! leon or luis with reader? smut if u will 😉🙏
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Disclaimers: Unhealthy obsessive behaviour, smut, breeding kink, manipulation, marriage talk and extremely clueless reader.
Note: Interesting turn to what I usually write. There wasn't really any context in this request so I just went all out with Leon wanting a family etc.
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Leon was the most utterly sweetest man you had ever been with, he made you feel so safe, like you belonged, like you were wanted.
Going to the grocery store?
He'll come with you, even though he has work soon.
Going out with a friend?
Text or call him every hour, or maybe he'll tag along and be your driver.
Your friend is ghosting you over text?
“Maybe they just don't want to be friends with you anymore sweetheart, maybe they're just jealous of how good life treats you.”
He wiped your tear soaked face as you had just shown him that you'd been blocked. Why? It doesn't add up. Leon was helping you through it though, he was so sweet and helpful he wouldn't hurt a fly.
But in reality you had no idea what Leon was capable of, you wouldn't even be able to process the information. It would kill you. Destroy you.
You've not a clue that it was Leon that drove your friends away from you, it was Leon that was controlling every aspect of your measly little life, it was Leon that was madly obsessed with you. In love? Yeah sure but madly obsessed? Definitely.
And he'd help you erase the pain away by sitting in between your parted legs for what seemed like hours.
Your high pitched wails and mewls of pleasure drove Leon to pursue in making you cum over and over on his tongue.
It brough adrenaline rushing through your veins as he pleasured you to cloud nine.
Fuck your friends. Life was treating you well. Leon was treating you well.
Your boyfriend, your lover. Fuck you really wanted to call him your husband to. Thinking about this while gripping his hair tightly between your grasped fingers made you blush.
Almost like reading your mind, Leon lifted his head from between the tasty meal of your cunt, slick coating his lips and chin.
“What're you thinking about, my love?”
“Just how it'd feel to call you, my husband.”
“Oh? I thought you weren't interested in marriage, you said you weren't ready.”
“Yes Leon I wasn't ready before I met you, but after.. that's all I can think about. I want you to be mine.. forever, it'd kill me to see you with someone else.”
The corners of Leon's pinkish lips turned up in amusement, it had finally worked. Your obsession with him is growing, to the point where soon you'll only need to rely on him. Not your family or friends, just Leon.
“Well let me show you how much I want to put a ring on your finger, hm?” He nudged his nose against your inner thigh, making you jolt upwards.
“Hm yeah Leon, please.”
His rubbing of circles on your slit had you bucking your hips faster.
He halted his actions at your string of “wait’s” peering up at whatever you wished for.
“Leon, want you inside me now please I can't wait.” You choked out, turning on your side and curling up like a cat.
Your pussy was throbbing so badly, slick dripping from you by the second. Your pussy was practically drooling, hungry to be filled.
“Aw baby you know I hate when you're being a little brat, and not letting me taste you until I want to stop” He gripped your chin in his hands making you squeak at the sudden intrusion of space.
“But I think my soon to be wife deserves what she demands, what'd ya say?”
“Yes hm, yes yes please Lee.”
“Fuck, i love when you call me that.” You heard the clink of Leon's belt being unbuckled hitting the floor along with his jeans.
“I hate leaving you overnight for missions, gonna miss you when I'm gone, I was thinking about giving you my baby before I leave in case anything happens.” He mumbled into the skin of your neck.
“Hmm yes please Leon, I want your babies.” You babbled stupidly cockdrunk.
Lips clashing with teeth, saliva mixing in each other's own you gripped him closer as he ate you up.
“Oh fuck, I'm not letting you leave this bed now, not ever.”
He positioned his cock at your wet hole, teasing the head at the entrance making you grind against him.
“So needy.” He muttered, before slowly but swiftly sliding into your blissed out hole.
“Oh god, oh god Leon.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull, making you look stupidly fucked out although Leon was yet to start his deterioration of your sanity.
Your nails left crescent shaped marks on his broad shoulders and back, lifting your legs higher to fuck you in a different but better angle.
“Fuck yes, I'm gonna fill this pussy to the brim. Can't wait to come back from work one day and announce your pregnancy to me. It'll drive me crazy, that I'm the one that knocked you up.”
Although Leon didn't say the words they were repeated in his mind, etched in bold lettering.
You're all mine. No one will take that away from me, no matter what after the marriage, the pregnancy you can't leave me. You're bound to me, no matter how bored you become. But I doubt you would ever become bored of me my darling, I have plenty to offer my sweet princess.
“Shit- yes yes Leon! Give me your cum, your babies. I want it.” You squealed when Leon lifted one of your legs.
Admiring the pretty sight of his naked form before you. He looked like a Greek god, unreal and carved from the finest of marble. Your child had better claim those remarkable genes.
His sweat had accumulated on various parts of his body, his chest and forehead more noticeable. Strands of wet hairs stuck to his head, as his pace began to slow down the grip on your waist loosening as he shook and inhaled.
“I'm gonna pound you really hard right now, brace yourself but I need to make sure you still take my seed.”
Without even waiting for your mouth to open Leon began to thrust into your guts with immense power.
“Your mine, mine, mine!”
Your volume increases in height, squeezing the flesh of his back and scratching his scalp lightly making him groan as he finally came with a particular hard thrust biting down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.
Hot spurts of cum coated your walls, and you were surprised at how much Leon came and it felt like he was still cumming before he finally slid out of you watching his cum follow after.
Using his two fingers he pushed it back in before tossing you your underwear.
“Keep it plugged up, need to make sure that tight fucking pussy takes what it gladly received kindly.” He growled, pressing his forehead against your own.
“Hm thank you Lee, I hope I get pregnant, I want to carry your baby.” You smiled stroking his soft hair, before slowly looking up at him.
He returned the innocent gesture before rising up from the messy bed.
“That reminds me of something baby.” He opened his bedside drawer before fishing a small velvet coloured box out.
No way, is that what you think it is?
Leon got down on one knee, he said your name smiling directly at you.
“Will you marry me?”
You stared at him in shock, eyes unfocused as you darted from his head to his very feet.
Tears shone in your eyes as you clapped your hands to your trembling lips.
“Yes Leon, I will marry you.”
You made your way towards him pulling him into a sickly sweet hug, ending it with an ever sweeter kiss.
You admired the diamond encrusted ring that had been a family ornament for all the women in his family. In his late teens he had stolen it, after his mother had died out of anger. Promising to give it to someone he loves dearly.
Look at you.
So small in the palm of his hand.
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harrywavycurly · 10 months
Text
Fake Husband Eddie Part 2: Meeting Someone?
Part 1: here
Part 3: here
Tag List: @alana4610 @fluentmoviequoter @alicentswife @vivalasv3gan @goth-cowgirl-03 @yujyujj @slowgabinaburninroom @zaddyskye69
TW: Cursing and drinking
A/N: Before you all come for me don’t worry there is a part 3 and it’s the final part of this little trilogy lol also idk why I added in Frank and the Hideout backstory it was just something that was sitting in the back of my mind and it fit. Anywayyyy enjoy!!✨
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You smooth out the front of your shirt as you sit down on one of the worn out barstools at the back of the Hideout. It’s been exactly a week since you met Eddie and it only felt right that the two of you have your first official date at the bar you met at. Over the span of a week you two have gotten to know each other quite well, you learned that Eddie would much rather FaceTime you than text you because he likes to hear your voice, especially your laugh he loves how it sounds even through the phone. You also learned that he loves his job, he works at the garage in town and he’s always got his head under someone’s hood fixing a transmission or tinkering with a stubborn fuel line.
Eddie has learned things about you as well, he knows that you like to read before bed and he doesn’t know why but it shocked him a bit to learn the two of you have a few books in common on your bookshelves. He notices things like how you try to hide your face when you’re smiling and he just assumes that’s something you’ve always done but he’s made a mental note to try to remind you how pretty you are when you smile because it’s really one of his favorite things to see. You go on little rants about things that have bothered you during the day and he loves how passionate you get because your arms go everywhere and you also always end it with “you know what I mean?” and even if he has no clue he can’t help but smile and just nod and reassure you that yes he knows what you mean.
The two of you have grown close over the past several days and you’ve started to develop a rather large crush on the long haired metal head. Luckily for you though Eddie made his feelings known the night he drove you home from the hideout.
“You know what?” You turn your head and look at Eddie who’s smiling at you as he watches you reach for the handle of the passenger side door of his van.
“What?” Eddie leans over his middle console so he can tuck a few stay hairs behind your ear making you blush as you feel his hand brush against your cheek.
“I think I like you.” You raise an eyebrow at him as you playfully glare at him making him laugh.
“You think?” You tease as Eddie reaches for your hand that has his skull ring on it, you smile as you watch him twirl it around your finger since it’s a little too big for you but you like how it feels so you haven’t taken it off.
“Sorry sweetheart.” He looks up at you as you find yourself leaning into him. “I know I like you.” He adds right before he places a kiss to your lips making you smile as he pulls away.
The sound of a glass being set down in front of you jolts you out of your daydream as you blink a few times before looking around to see if Eddie has shown up yet. You look at your phone and see it’s only ten minutes past six, the time you both agreed to meet so you just brush it off to him being a little late and look up to see the bartender cleaning a few glasses in front of you.
“What can I get ya?” Frank the bartender and half owner of the Hideout asks as he gives you a smile. “I make a mean martini.” He jokes as he shoots you a playful wink making you laugh.
“Uh I’ll just have a vodka tonic please.” He nods and starts making your drink. “Have you worked here a while?” You ask trying to make small talk to help the time pass before Eddie shows up and this is only the second time you’ve ever been here so might as well get to know the bartenders.
“You could say that.” Frank answers as he slides your drink in front of you. “I’m Frank and I may not look it but I’m one of the Hideout's original customers.” You just nod your head encouraging him to continue as you take a sip of your drink, Frank is an older gentleman with long gray hair he has tucked into a low pony on the back of his neck and a few tattoos scattered around his forearms that are only visible because he has his flannel rolled up to his elbows. “I helped them name this place because we used to meet here back in the day when it wasn’t actually a bar, to hideout from people we didn’t want to see or nagging wives we were avoiding so when they wanted to turn it into a bar I said why not just call it the Hideout?” Frank explained and you couldn’t help but giggle at the mention of avoiding nagging wives.
“It’s a great name.” You watch him smile as he looks around the bar to see if anyone needs anything.
“Meeting someone?” Frank asks as he glances down at the giant skull ring on your ring finger.
“Uh yeah.” You’re not sure how to answer his question so you just go with your gut. “My husband actually.” Frank just smiles and nods as he goes back to cleaning glasses as you slowly sip on your drink as you anxiously look at your phone again and let out a sigh when you see it’s now six thirty.
Eddie is elbows deep in a minivan’s engine that is just refusing to let him get his fingers in the correct place to install a new part. He lets out a frustrated groan as he takes a step back from the van and places his grease covered hands on his hips and closes his eyes and looks up towards the ceiling of the garage. He wonders for a moment what you’re going to wear on your date with him tonight, he’s had tonight circled on his calendar all week and he’d be lying if he didn’t say he even added little hearts to it and everything.
“Why do all minivans have to be so damn stubborn?” He mumbles as he opens his eyes and takes a step closer to the van. “I’m just trying to help you.” He explains as he uses his wrist to wipe some sweat off his brow, as he drops it back down to his side he feels his whole world begin to move in slow motion when he catches the time on his watch. “Oh fuck fuck fuck.” He drops the wrench in his left hand and heads for the break room of the garage.
“Eddie?” Greg the parts guy asks as Eddie rushes past him so he can grab his stuff from his locker.
“I’m late!” Eddie shouts over his shoulder as he heads for the door. He quickly jumps into his van and starts the engine as he digs around in his bag for his phone. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.” He groans when he sees his phone is on 10% battery because he forgot to put it on the charger after falling asleep on FaceTime with you last night. He looks at the clock and silently prays to whoever it is that might be listening to let you still be waiting for him even though it’s well after eight at night and he was supposed to meet you at six.
“Shit shit.” He presses your name in his phone and it rings once before his whole screen goes black meaning his phone is dead. “Fuck!” Eddie feels like his heart is in his stomach as he pulls out of the parking lot of his work and heads straight for the Hideout.
He doesn’t look for your car in the bar’s parking lot because he knows you planned to get dropped off so he could just take you home. He not so gently snatches his keys from the ignition after putting it in park and slams his door closed as he exits the van. He ignores the looks he’s getting form the men outside smoking as he rushes into the bar, he’s sure he looks like he’s lost with his work overalls on tied around his waist and his hair in a messy bun and grease stains everywhere. Frank turns when he hears the door open and he raises an eyebrow at Eddie when he lets out a sigh at all the empty seats in the back of the bar, exactly where you told him you’d be so he could meet you.
“Looking for your wife?” Eddie looks at the bartender and nods his head because you’d been jokingly calling yourself his wife all week so of course you’d tell the bartender you were waiting for your husband. Frank tosses something at Eddie and when he catches it and sees what it is he feels his heart break a bit. “Left about an hour ago.” He adds as Eddie stares at the skull ring that’s sitting in the palm of his hand.
“Oh no.” And with that Eddie turns on his heels and runs straight back out to the parking lot towards his van because no way is he letting him being an idiot be the reason you two end things.
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madschiavelique · 9 months
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was a bit hesitant to ask this but thoughts on how Miguel would feel if reader was vv self conscious abt their body/said anything negative abt their appearance..? (talking abt this as someone who's also self conscious abt their body cuz i need to know how he would react/what he would say to the reader tbh 😭)
AAAAAAA BESTIE I FEEL YOU !! I'm part of the self conscious about their body gang - i just had to write more than just a thought on this<3
when it comes to self consciousness about my body, there's always one line from the song Paradis by Orelsan (french rapper), that says "Je comprends pas pourquoi tu t'inquiètes quand tu prends du poids. Pour moi, c'est ça de pris, ça fait toujours plus de toi." which i used in this text (clue : it'll be in italic)
summary : miguel reassures a self conscious reader on their body content warnings : comfort, fluff, miguel being a worshipper of you, genderneutral!reader, no use of Y/N word count : 739 tag list : @fandom-ash
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Miguel is a man who notices details, all the more so when those details are related to you. He noticed how you looked at yourself in the mirror from time to time, how you sometimes stood on your tiptoes when you were sitting to make your thighs look less large, how some days, even when it was hot, you wore a sweater covering you completely.
You were used to wearing baggy clothes, oversized sweaters and t-shirts, baggy pants, nothing that showed too much of your curves.
He'd noticed how you'd changed your diet lately, and how the portions you allowed yourself were... far too small for a normal meal.
You were depriving yourself of your favorite snacks, and even when Miguel offered you some, you begrudgingly refused. He could see the pain in your eyes, and he couldn't understand.
Then one day, standing in front of the mirror in your underwear, you started to cry. Miguel came running straight to you, taking you in his arms as you wept silently, little jolts shaking your body.
He stroked your back and hair gently, letting the sobs take their place as you sniffled against his shoulder.
"Hey hey hey," his voice was low, as if he felt that a word or a gesture a little too strong could break you into a thousand pieces, "nena, what's wrong?" he asked, stepping back.
He wiped your tear-streaked cheeks, your eyes were reddened and your lips bulged with heartache.
"I hate my body."
His heart cracked, and he came to take you in his arms again. So that was the reason for all this, for your restrictions, for all these choices that were doing you more harm than good. He couldn't understand how you could think such a thing, because he worshipped you like the goddess or god or deity you truly were.
"I wish I just looked different," you murmured against him.
"Why?" he asked, pulling away from you again to cup your face.
"Because, I look ugly, I feel ugly..." you sighed, your brow furrowing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks.
His lips were parted, he couldn't understand how it was possible for you to feel this way, to think this way about yourself. He found you so beautiful that the very thought of you thinking that way seemed almost impossible.
"I'm not pretty enough to be with you. There are so many prettier girls and boys than me-" you began, but he cut you off, not even letting you finish your sentence.
"Don't ever say that again," he said, his tone serious and almost warning.
He looked at you, sorry and almost angry. Because he was wondering who he was going to have to correct (annihilate) for having succeeded in making you think you weren't beautiful.
"Come here," he said, lifting you with ease to rest you on the sink while you were still wiping your cheeks. "Listen to me: Your body is not the reason I love you. I've fallen in love with your soul, your qualities and your flaws... even if I'm still trying to find the flaws."
You blew out a quick laugh from your nose, a tear running down your cheek as he brushed it away.
"It doesn't make you a failure, or undesirable, or ugly not to have the body of a celebrity on the cover of a magazine." he said softly as he kissed your cheek, his hand gently caressing your thigh. "Why should you worry about gaining weight?"
"Because it makes me ugly." you murmured, but he gripped your chin between his fingers so your eyes observed the truth in his.
"No, it doesn't make you ugly," he assured. "Even if you do gain weight, for me it's a given, because it always gives me more of you."
Your chin trembled slightly, and you bit the inside of your cheek.
"No matter how long it takes, I'll make you love yourself," he confirmed. "I don't care what you look like, I'll still love you."
You smiled, tears still gently flowing, Miguel coming to place both his hands on your cheeks to clear them. You let out a little laugh:
"Even if I was a worm?" you joked.
He smiled, sighing softly.
"Yes, even if you were a worm." he laughed, kissing your forehead before hugging you again.
"Lucky worm." you whispered, wrapping your arms around his back.
"Lucky me." he whispered against your hair, stroking it gently.
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morbific-or-felicific · 3 months
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-AGNOSTHESIA PART 3 Featuring Scaramouche’s
Part 1 Part2
Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person
Word Count: 2.6k~
Description: After you almost fail your midterm Scaramouche decides to punish you
Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach
Join The Tag List
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You were in the library, sitting across the table from your boyfriend. You could feel his eyes on you while you read through the notes he had helped you make. The two of you had a midterm in half an hour, and you were hoping to at least get a seventy five…however out of reach that may be.
“You know, if you don’t know the material by now, you aren’t going to magically learn it in the next thirty minutes.”
You let out a sigh and met your boyfriend's gaze.
“Are you going to let me stop studying then?”
“Do you really think you can afford to stop? You do know how stupid you are, right?”
You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and returned your focus to your notes.
As you studied, Scaramouche lazily scrolled through his phone, texting and watching videos. It frustrated you to no end to know that, despite his lack of effort, he would no doubt earn the highest mark in the class. Meanwhile, you* were working as hard as you possibly could while still running the risk of failing, with Scaramouche’s ominous threat of ‘punishment’ hanging over your head.
You barely noticed when Scaramouche started gathering his things to head to class, having to have him snap his fingers in front of your face to break your focus. Finally, you gathered your notes, and the two of you made your way to class.
~ ♡ ~
Although you swore you had only spent twenty minutes writing the test, you supposed the full hour and a half must have passed since everyone who was still writing was instructed to hand in their tests. You had managed to finish just in time, but you weren’t feeling very good about how you had done.
You made your way out of the classroom to where your boyfriend had been waiting for you, laying across a few chairs he had somehow come into possession of. As you got closer to him, he looked up from his phone and stood up. He was happy to see you but also rather concerned about how upset you looked.
“How did it go?”
He spoke with uncharacteristic softness and concern.
“I don’t think it went very well…”
You felt rather hopeless about the whole situation and had already resigned yourself to failure.
“Come on, with how hard you’ve worked? I’m sure that you did just fine.”
You didn’t respond, choosing to instead stare dejectedly at the floor. Scaramouche offered a soft smile.
“Come on, let’s get out of here. We can go get food and watch a movie.”
You stayed silent for a moment, thinking over the proposal.
“That actually sounds really nice.”
“Come on then.”
He grabbed your hand and dragged you to his car.
~ ♡ ~
It had been exactly nineteen days since you had taken your midterm, and you had finally been emailed the results. You sat at your computer staring at the unopened email. You knew that you had probably failed, but you didn’t want to know that you had actually failed. You took a deep breath, did your best to relax your body, and opened the email. You scanned through the words and eventually found your results. You had passed. You swore you had never felt so relieved in your life. Granted, you had only gotten a 58, but that was more than enough for you. You wiped away a few tears of relief and flopped back in your chair. You took out your phone and called your boyfriend.
“Hello-”
“I passed.”
“Seriously?!”
“Yes!”
“Well that’s no surprise. You have me as your tutor, afterall.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face. Although he was clearly trying to hide it, pride was evident in his voice.
“Thank you, baby.”
You heard Scaramouche let out a little puff of air from his nose.
“Wanna come over so we can celebrate?”
“I guess I can.”
“Did you pass?”
“Is that even a question?”
“Well congratulations, you are the reason everyone hates being marked on a curve.”
You actually heard your boyfriend laugh at that.
“It’s not my fault you’re all inept.”
“Are you coming or not?”
There was a brief silence.
“I’ll bring food.”
“See you at 5:00?”
“Alright, love you.”
And with that, he hung up. You sighed and sent an “I love you too” text.
You spent the rest of your day doing some chores and some reading, and eventually, Scaramouche was knocking on your door. He brought an obscene amount of sushi, and somehow, the two of you managed to eat all of it.
It was a nice evening. Scaramouche was in a surprisingly good mood(he wouldn’t admit it, but he was quite pleased that you had managed to pass your midterm), and there wasn’t anything left to stress about.
The two of you sat on your couch, scrolling through streaming services. You were nestled under your boyfriend’s arm as he navigated to netflix and started scrolling through movies.
“So what movie do you want to watch?”
“Pride and-”
“No.”
“But you said I could pick!”
“Only if you pick a good movie.”
“You haven’t even seen it!”
“Too bad. I’m picking now.”
You sighed but didn’t really protest. You usually ended up liking whatever movies he chose anyway. This time, however, you had gotten somewhat bored about halfway through “Inception” and decided to grab your phone to scroll through whatever app seemed interesting.
“You know, if you’re bored, we can do something else.”
The prospect of doing something different admittedly interested you, so you decided to go along with it.
“Sure. What did you have in mind?”
A small smile made its way onto Scaramouche’s face as he stood up, turning off the tv and reaching out his hand to you. You took it and followed him to your bedroom. You certainly weren’t going to complain if he wanted to reward you for passing. As you stood at the end of your bed, he stood away from you, leaning against the now closed door.
“Take off your clothes.”
You blushed, slightly embarrassed by how blunt he was but did as you were told anyway. You began to pull your shirt over your head when he stopped you.
“No. Slowly.”
You looked away from him, even more embarrassed now, and started slowly sliding your hands up your sides, bunching up your shirt as you brought it farther up your body. You pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the ground beside you. Next, you undid the button on your pants and slid the zipper down, but before you could begin to slide them down your legs, you were stopped once again by yet another command.
“Turn around.”
You silently obeyed and turned to face away from him as you slid your pants off, bending at the waist, knowing exactly what your boyfriend wanted from you. When you finally kicked off your pants, you turned back around to face Scaramouche. He had a little smirk resting on his face, and you could now see a bulge beginning to make itself known in his pants. Despite the number of times the two of you had fucked, you were still embarrassed to be almost naked in front of him.
“Why are you stopping?”
Your blush darkened as you reached behind you to undo your bra, letting it fall to the ground and then turning around once again to slide off your panties. Scaramouche bit his lip as he watched you. Fuck, you were so good for him. It’s too bad he had to punish you for almost failing your midterm, not that you were aware of that yet.
You turned around once again to face your boyfriend, and he began to move towards your closet, where he kept a few things for situations such as these. You were a little confused as to why he would want to use any of those things when he was rewarding you, but you didn’t question him. You fully trusted Scaramouche and knew he would never hurt you… well, unless you wanted him to. You continued not to question him when he brought out a coil of rope and told you to get on your hands and knees on the bed.
Although, you were still confused. He knows that you like being able to touch him, so why would he be using rope? You finally decided to question his actions when he had finished tying you up, a bad choice on your part. He had just finished the last knot when you piped up.
“Uh, why are you tying me up?”
“Because stupid little whores don’t get to touch me.”
Okay, now you were very confused.
“But I thought-”
“Dumb girls who almost fail their exams don’t get rewarded.”
His words would hurt if you didn’t know how proud of you he was.
“But-”
You felt his hand land hard and heavy on your ass, and your words morphed into a little shout of pain. You tried to wiggle away from him, but with your calves tied to your thighs and your hands tied behind your back, you couldn’t move an inch. You felt his hand land again on the other side of your ass as he reiterated his point.
“Don’t you think brainless sluts should get punished? I’m sure it’ll help get some sense into that empty head of yours.”
You could hear the smile in his voice. You heard him step away, and with you unable to move, you had no idea what was coming next. As his footsteps came closer again, you felt a finger run along your slit.
“You’re so wet already, pathetic.”
Your cheeks were burning. As he began to play with your clit, you started to let out little moans and whines. Fuck, he was good at that. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers starting to push in and out of you rhythmically. If he kept going, you were going to cum. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It felt so good. It felt like he was turning off your brain. All you wanted was for him to make you cum, and maybe for his cock to be inside of you. That would be nice too.
“Fuck, master, I’m going to cum!”
As soon as those words left your mouth, his fingers had been removed from you.
“No! Please! I need it! Please, let me cum!”
You were so close. You needed it so bad. Scaramouche knew that, and frankly, he couldn’t care less. Stupid girls don’t get to cum.
He teased you like this for at least half an hour, although it felt like an eternity. He kept bringing you to the edge just to steal away your end with a derisive laugh.
“Do you have any idea how pathetic you sound?”
You let out a particularly pathetic whine.
“‘Oh, master, please let me cum! I’ll be a good girl, please!’. You’d be worthless if you didn’t feel so good on my cock.”
Warm tears slid down your face, but you could feel yourself get wetter at his words. Scaramouche walked around the bed so he could take your face in his hands.
“Fuck, you look pretty when you cry.”
More tears ran down your face, despite the warmth you felt from his words.
“I should just keep you tied up so you can cry for me and be a good little fleshlight. That sounds nice, right, slut?”
You nodded, not quite sure how to respond. He laughed and walked back behind you. You tried to wiggle away, but you were still helplessly at his mercy.
You heard the clicking sounds of him taking off his belt, and you felt adrenaline shoot through your body. Finally, you were going to feel his cock inside of you.
However, your hopes were quickly dashed when you felt the harsh sting of a belt hit your ass. You screamed. Scaramouche laughed.
“You like that, don’t you, princess?”
You cried louder now, the sound only serving to make your boyfriend more turned on. Once again, you felt his belt come into harsh contact with your ass.
“Count.”
You let out a little shout of pain as another hit came.
“One!”
Your counting was followed by a whimper of pain and a light laugh from Scaramouche. Then the belt came down again.
“Two!”
You whimpered in pain, and your fists clenched behind your back, your nails digging into your palms. You didn’t know how long this would continue for, but you were ready to take whatever he chose to give you, as you always did.
Three more hits came from his belt, each one followed by a shot of pain and a number.
“Five!”
You readied yourself for another hit, but it never came. You jumped when you felt him gently rest his hand between your shoulders, slowly tracing his way down to your waist. Suddenly, he removed his hand, and you could hear him stepping away. He came to sit on the bed in front of you. He rested a hand on your cheek once again and leaned into you.
“Do you want to cum? Hmm?”
He smiled at you mockingly. You nodded emphatically.
“Please! I need to cum, master! Need it so bad!”
He couldn’t help but snicker at how pathetic you sounded.
“Well, if you want it so bad, then okay. I’ll make you cum, sweetheart.”
Fuck. If he’s saying yes, there has to be a catch… unless… was he done punishing you? You quickly got your answer when your boyfriend stood and walked back to where you couldn’t see him.
You heard him fiddling with something, and after a few moments, you felt something cold and plastic run up your slit a few times, collecting your wetness before finally pushing inside of you.
You knew what was coming, but you couldn’t stop the whine that you let out when the dildo started vibrating intensely. You started whining and moaning, not being prepared for the pleasure. Scaramouche walked in front of you once again, this time with a ballgag in hand. He pushed it inside of your mouth and tied it behind your head.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”
And with that, you could hear your boyfriend walk out of the room and close the door, his light laughter trailing behind him. You tried to call out to your boyfriend, but everything came out garbled between broken moans. He wouldn’t leave you tied up for too long… right?
~ ♡ ~
You had no idea how long you had been left tied up like this, and you had lost count of how many times you had come. All that you knew was that you were exhausted. Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and the door clicked open. He was back. Without saying a word, he turned off the vibrations and gently pulled out the toy. He walked around to sit in front of you and untied the gag, removing it from your mouth.
“Did you learn your lesson, princess?”
He smiled as if he were talking to a child. You nodded your head.
“Mhm!”
“Good girl.”
He stroked his thumb on your cheek, and you leaned into his touch. He started to untie you, going through all the knots until you were finally free. You stretched your sore limbs as Scaramouche left the room in search of a warm cloth.
Eventually, he reappeared with a warm cloth and an extra blanket. He cleaned you up and wrapped you in the soft blanket before carrying you back to the couch so the two of you could finish the movie.
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morbific-or-felicific.
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