#Is this what an old mans body looks like?

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 9 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: He shows you a softer side of him. Until he doesn’t.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, rough sex, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, knife, over-stimulation, bondage, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, age gap, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

"How old are you, actually?"

He raised a brow, but didn't yet look up from his newspaper. You could tell you had piqued his interest by the way his eyes crinkled into a smile. It even seemed genuine to a certain degree.

You sat beside him and watched him with a keen eye, not hiding that you were staring at him.

"Is there a reason why you want to know?"

You shook your head. "You won't tell me your name or anything else about you that matters. At least give me that."

He hummed softly. "I'm forty-five." He finally looked up from the paper and regarded you with mild amusement. "Is that a problem?"

You shook your head again. It indeed wasn't. You had long guessed that he was quite a bit older than you, but to you he didn't come off like a lecherous old man who was after young women to keep him young and moist.

He was simply...older.

Not old.

"No, I guess not."

He looked back down at the paper, while you kept shifting on the couch beside him restlessly.

He managed to successfully ignore your restlessness for a minute, before he sighed and set the paper down.

"I know I will regret this, but what is going on?"

"Have you been with many women before?"

The ridiculousness of the question didn't just surprise him. To your own ears, the question sounded even sillier spoken out loud. But you couldn't help it.

The question kept tormenting your mind and it had been doing so for days. You had to ask or you would go insane. Even more so than you already were.

You couldn't tell why the thought of him with someone else made you feel like you were in the worst humanly possible pain, but it did.

It made you feel like you were slowly suffocating under the weight of a thousand stones.

And how pointless was it?

It was in the past. You were the future, right?

Good God, what were you even thinking about?

"Are you jealous?"

He didn't even try to mask the amusement in his voice. For some reason that made everything even worse. Of course you were being fucking ridiculous.

Your face flushed a deep shade of crimson and you looked down at your hands. "I'm not jealous." You murmured.

Despite not even looking at him, you could sense the wide, unhinged grin that took possession of his face.

"You are." He said victoriously. "You're jealous over me."

You narrowed your eyes and tried to come up with something sharp and witty, but the truth was simply that.

You were jealous.

More so, your body stood in flames of wild, raging jealousy.

"Aw, come on. I was just teasing you." He tipped your chin up. "Don't pout."

You forced yourself to keep your eyes on him. His expression had softened somewhat, but there was still a hint of amusement and satisfaction in his eyes. You hated him.

Especially did you hate his eyes.

Even more so when they softened.

You hated everything about him. The way he moved and looked so effortlessly sexy when he did. The way he looked whenever he stood in the kitchen, flipping the pan around like a professional chef. You had once caught yourself staring at him when he tossed a grape in the air and tried to catch it with his mouth. He had failed miserably. At first it hit his cheek and then it landed on the ground, before it rolled under the fridge. Something rather inelegant, coming from such a dashing man.  The way he looked at the grape and then at you, looking caught in the act. The way his lips curved into that delicious smile. Almost sheepishly.

Almost innocent.

“It’s your fault. Your presence is distracting to me.”

Your heart ached when you realized it.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. But you tried to. God, how hard you tried.

“Can you just answer the question?” You murmured.

He hummed and looked to the side in thought. “I’m not sure how many it were. I didn’t exactly keep count.”

Awful.

“Were all of them victims to your incomparable abduction skills?”

He smirked. Your relationship had come a long way. Now you were allowed to tease him, without having to expect a punishment in return.

Sometimes.

It depended on his mood. And by now, you had gotten pretty good at telling when he was in a good mood and when he was to be avoided and obeyed.

It was easier to be attentive when your health was at stake.

Or your life.

“No”, he mused with a strange sense of sincerity, “and also you came along willingly.”

You scoffed. “You’re even crazier than I thought. Or just fairly ignorant.”

He laughed. God, you hated when he laughed.

It was so easy to lose yourself in the sound of it.

“Whatever it was, you’re here now. And as for these other women…It doesn’t matter how many they were, none of them held any meaning to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. But you did? You meant something to him?

You couldn’t ask him that. As much as you wanted, your lips couldn’t form those words. Your fear of being mocked or rejected was far too great. The thought of him making fun of you for so obviously falling in love with him, him, your tormentor, him, your bane, your curse, your horror. It  was terrifying to you.

He would never love you. He was incapable of having these kind of feelings. Of course, he had never said that. But you could tell. People like him had obsessions. No more. No less.

You were just something pretty for him, something to put on his shelf and look at with a satisfied smile. Something to use when he got bored or excited. And then you’d go on the shelf again. And by the time you became boring to him, by the time your beauty would begin to fade and signs of age and life would show on your face or the color of your hair, you’d be gone.

Gone like the wind or the ocean breeze. You’d be gone and he’d obsess over something else.

The thought made your heart ache with such fervor, it nearly made you cry, then and there. And what was the worst about it? The thought of him killing you, it didn’t hurt you half as much as the thought of him replacing you.

You had always known you had a weakness within you. Something that might accept when things got worse, something that refused to fight at some point and simply gave up. You had experienced it with your mother.

You just didn’t know how deep this weakness ran.

When he saw the distant look in your eyes, his amusement faded and was replaced by something softer. He frowned slightly and held out his hand to you.

“Come.” He murmured. “Come, sit on my lap.”

Reluctantly you took his hand and let him pull you on his lap. You straddled his thigh and faced him, but the expression on your face was still one of silent sadness.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, before he cupped your cheek in his palm. The softness. There was the softness again. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

You hated him the most when he was gentle.

“But you’re not like that.” He said quietly.

When your brows furrowed in a mixture of quiet disbelief and uncertainty, he shook his head and gently trailed his thumb down your cheek. His touch was so gentle, it made something in your chest ache. Your heart, most likely.

His eyes glowed in that soft brown and you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He whispered. “I know that I’m deranged, sweet girl. I know I’m probably not what you ever anticipated for your life. But one thing about me is steadfast and true. I’m honest.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you inhaled a shaky breath. “So?” You murmured.

“So…” He murmured back as he gently placed his free on your hip to steady you. “I don’t think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Because, sweet girl”, he purred and leaned closer to brush a soft kiss along your cheek, “Because I say so.”

Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt yourself lean into his embrace. It felt good to be held by him. It felt safe, which was ironic enough.

He slowly slid his fingertips under your shirt and up your spine. It was one of the best things about him. He never ran them up your waist. He always skipped your waist.

The word mouse was as dead as Latin in these halls.

And he always asked if you had eaten already and when you lied, he could tell.

Never before had you met someone so attentive. When he wasn’t angry with you or angry because of anything else, he was the perfect man.

The way he looked at you was enough to make you swoon. The way he touched you enough to make you shiver.

The way he kissed his way from your cheek down to your neck made you gasp every time. And even when he ravaged you, he somehow always made sure to check if you were still there. You never got the chance to detach and stare at the ceiling, stare at the wall, stare at the floor. He caught your gaze, tipped your chin up and made sure that you were there.

That you wanted to be there.

And you didn’t have to say when you didn’t. He caught on that, too.

And then he’d let you sleep.

Or read.

“Are you tired?” He whispered with a soft nip to your earlobe.

The sigh that came over your lips was involuntary. A part of your mind was still hung up on the women. The women who had been there before you.

Were they prettier? Probably.

Were they normal? Most likely.

Did they make him happy?

Was he ever happy?

Was he even able to be happy? Did deranged people get a happy ending? Or even a happy middle? Maybe a very happy start?

There was something dead inside of him. You couldn’t tell if it was his heart, his soul or something else. But it was there. Just like there was something dead inside of you.

But sometimes you asked yourself if it was really dead or if maybe, just maybe, it had simply been asleep up until then.

You nodded slowly. You were always tired. That was part of being depressed and he caught on that, as well.

“I could run you a bath, sweet girl.” He murmured against your skin as he slowly rubbed his palms against your bare back under your shirt. It made you shiver and only ever press closer to him. “Or I could cook something for you.”

You shook your head.

“Are you still sad?” He whispered in your ear.

You swallowed again and nodded. Were you ever not sad?

He hummed thoughtfully. “Go get daddy your favorite book.”

The way your heart skipped a beat was almost audible. It always caught you off-guard when he did that. To refer to himself as daddy was bad enough in the bedroom, but when he did it like that, just out of nowhere, it made your skin flush in embarrassment. Yet at the same time, your heart raced. He wasn’t the only one deranged.

“My favorite book?” You whispered, sounding more breathless than anticipated.

He nodded. “Your favorite book from the shelf.”

With a slow, deliberate movement you climbed off of his lap and slowly moved towards the book shelf. You felt his gaze burn into your back. As much as it made you shiver and shudder, it also had something comforting about it. The way he sat leaned back against the couch, one arm draped over it and his ankle resting on his knee. God, he was perfect.

You swallowed and your eyes slowly raked over the rows of books until they stopped on Jane Eyre. It wasn’t your favorite book in the world, but it gave you comfort. All Bronte-sisters did. Getting a glimpse of their mind always made you feel like you weren’t the only sad and complicated person in the world. There had been others before and there’d be more long after you were gone.

You slowly picked it up and made your way back to him. He took the book from you and patted his lap.

“Lay your head here.”

Your eye brows rose, but you didn’t protest. Instead you curled up on the couch and carefully rested your head on his thigh. Before you even fully settled down, he buried his fingers in your hair and gently threaded them through the length of it. You suppressed a quiet, contented sigh. And when you heard his soft voice as he began to read, so gentle and composed, it made your eyes snap shut.

“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning, but since dinner the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so…”

You couldn’t even properly focus on his words. All you could think about were his hands in your hair, his soft voice and the warmth radiating off of him.

You lay like that, listening to the soft sounds of him reading Jane Eyre to you, until you felt like you might fall asleep any second. Which was exactly what you did.

It didn’t even take all too long.

There was a part of your mind that expected to wake up with a blade against your throat or Hell – not even wake up at all.

But you couldn’t help it. The trust came on its own. It was hard not to trust him when he was like that. Caring and gentle and concerned.

You had a dreamless sleep and by the time your eyes fluttered open, you felt better rested than you had in forever. You slowly blinked and tilted your head up to see where you were and what was going on. What you saw was him, the book tightly shut beside him and you found he was staring down at you. His expression was still soft and his hand still in your hair. You blinked slowly.

“How long did I sleep?” You murmured hoarsely.

He glanced down at his watch. “About an hour and a half.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Why?” He mused. “You needed it.”

“But wasn’t that uncomfortable?” You yawned softly and rubbed your eyes, something that made him smile.

“No, sweetness. You look endearing when you sleep. I could watch you all day.”

A soft flush crept up your cheeks and you averted your gaze. You felt as embarrassed as you felt in love.

You were sure by now. There was no point in lying to yourself. You were in love with him.

And you were certain, given enough time, he’d break your heart.

Or your bones.

Whatever came first.

The rest of the evening was just as peaceful. You sat at the kitchen table and watched as he cooked something you couldn’t even come close to pronouncing. When he still tried to teach you and you made a fool of yourself, he smiled in amusement and something akin to pride.

“You’ll learn it one day.”

He was so patient at times. And at other times…

You finished dinner and stood in the bathroom, brushing your teeth. It was such a normal thing. A normal Sunday. Brushing your teeth to go to bed, a silken nightgown kissing your skin while you did.

He spoiled you. You knew that. He brought home more and more and more clothes. One piece more beautiful than the other. And as much you always assumed you’d look like an idiot wearing them, because you just weren’t the kind of girl for silk and beautiful things, you ended up loving them all. It made you feel beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful.

You rinsed your mouth and washed your face, pat dried it with a fluffy towel and shot a last glance at yourself in the mirror. You looked nothing like the girl who had begged her mother to stop being so cruel. And at the same time, you looked just like her.

Like a girl playing dress-up, but her sad eyes stayed the same.

The faint mark on your cheek was still there, reminding you subtly of what he was capable of. Not even close to what he was supposedly capable of. You sighed and turned off the lights, before you quietly tiptoed through the dark hallway. You were already on your way to your bedroom, when you saw that his door stood slightly open. There was a faint light that illuminated through the hallway and you couldn’t help yourself. You stopped and stared at the door, unsure what to do. Should you go in? Or should you go to your own room and loose yourself in your thoughts?

But before you could think about it, the door opened and revealed his form in no more than his boxers. God, he was perfect.

You were certain you had never seen a more handsome man in your life. Even when he was angry and when you hated him. He was still so fucking perfect.

“Join me.” He purred. You knew what that meant. And even though he didn’t say it, you still knew. You had a choice. Even though he had made abundantly clear, he’d fuck you even when you didn’t feel like it (something that hadn’t happened so far), today you had the choice.

You could go to your own bed and sleep in peace. His soft voice revealed that.

Instead you slowly stepped forward until you stood in the middle of his bedroom. The red notebook on the bed caught your attention and immediately you felt a knot form in your stomach. The cruel reminder of the day he cut your hair and attempted to give you a new name. You swallowed and slowly looked up at him. He caught your gaze and his own landed on the book. Something in his eyes hardened briefly, but he quickly concealed it. He closed the door and went over to the bed, where he picked up the notebook and tossed it under the bed, where it landed with a soft thud.

He was still angry. You had snuck in his room and invaded his privacy.

You had disobeyed him.

He didn’t care that so many things had changed since then.

You had disobeyed him. And he hadn’t forgotten. He probably never would.

He forced a soft sigh over his lips, obviously trying to calm himself down.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. Probably a stupid thing to do, but to you, it felt right.

He shook his head. “Don’t.” His voice was firm and measured, as he stepped closer. The lion walk.

He stopped when his chest nearly touched yours and you were forced to look up at him.

The memory of the gentle reading and your nap in the living room wavered in your head. You were sure he was going to make you forget about it real soon.

As if on cue, he wrapped a hand around your throat and made you gasp. With a low growl, he leaned in and captured your lips in a rough kiss, forcing your mouth open and his tongue inside.

An involuntary moan slipped out of your mouth and against his. And when his hand squeezed tighter, you moaned again. He pushed you back until you hit the wall.

“Get on your fucking knees and crawl over to the bed.” He gritted out.

Your chest heaved rapidly. You couldn’t tell if he was still angry about the notebook or if his outburst had another reason. A more carnal one. Whatever it was, you slowly slid to your hands and knees and began to crawl over to the bed. By the time you reached it, he appeared behind you and put a hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face down against the mattress.

You gasped again and rolled your head over, so he wouldn’t smother you. To your surprise, he let you.

He used his free hand to push two of his fingers in your mouth, making you gag by the sudden intrusion and the intensity of it. This time, he didn’t use them to bruise your throat. Instead he pulled them out and swiftly slid them between your legs from behind.

You whimpered softly as he forced your legs apart and ran his fingers along your already damp panties.

“What is this?” He growled. “Didn’t I tell you not to fucking wear these at night?”

You swallowed. Uh-oh.

“I-“

“No.” He hissed out and spun you around, so that the back of your head landed on the mattress and you sat down on the floor. “Take them off.”

You swallowed and moved quickly to slide the panties off of you. You held them in your hand awkwardly, unsure what the hell to do. He looked so furious, it made you nervous.

He yanked them away from you. Then he used one hand to roughly grasp your chin and force your mouth open and the other one he used to force the soaked panties into your mouth.

You inhaled sharply and stared up at him with wide eyes. Of course it was degrading. And yet you felt yourself grow more and more wet.

“On your stomach.” He gritted out. “Now.”

You took a shaky breath and quickly scurried around to lay on your stomach.

“Good girl. You’re finally listening.”

He went over to the wardrobe and rummaged through it, until he found what he was looking for. His belt. Oh, you had a bad feeling yet again.

“P-please.” You gasped out, but it was muffled against the fabric in your mouth.

“Shut up.” He said sharply.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God-

You had a strange and unpleasant Deja-vu, thinking about your mother and her creative ways of punishment.

But he didn’t use the belt to hit you. Instead he used it to tie up your wrists. You nearly sighed in relief, but you knew better than to do that. You knew what that might bring.

So you simply lay still and let him tie you up like that.

You felt incredibly helpless in this position, but the thrill of it was strong enough to make you drip. You closed your eyes.

“You’re such a bad girl.” He murmured. “Always sneaking around, doing things you shouldn’t, huh? Is that how you’re trying to please me? With disobedience?” He scoffed. “You just never learn, do you?”

He crouched down before you and regarded you with a long, scrutinizing look. You almost expected him to slap you. But instead you witnessed how he slowly sucked on his fingers, the ones he had pushed in your mouth just a minute ago. The sight stirred something deep within you and you shifted on the bed.

“Bad girl needs to learn her lesson.” He purred.

Before you even knew it, he was already rubbing his fingers over your wetness and circling your clit in a way that made you moan. Again, he knew just where to touch you. A thought that filled you with as much jealousy as it did pleasure. But somehow, the jealousy always won.

“Does that feel good?” He murmured. You nodded eagerly, squirming and arching against his hand, desperately seeking the friction that would bring you to oblivion.

He hummed softly and kept moving his fingers, only ever picking up the pace. “Like that, baby? Do you like that, hm?”

You moaned again and buried your face in the pillow, not even caring about the piece of clothing in your mouth, until he sharply removed his hand. You let out a whine and raised your head just enough to see the satisfied smirk on his lips.

“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, huh? Oh, you’re severely mistaken, princess.”

And just like that his hand was back, resuming the movement and having you writhe in a mixture of agony and pleasure.

“Please.” You muffled out again. You were more than ready to cum, your hips twitching treacherously. And he withdrew his hand again, a mock pout on his face.

“Sweet girl is so desperate for me to let her cum.” He hummed. “Be a good girl and beg daddy to let you cum.”

You swallowed thickly, which wasn’t too easy with your panties still in your mouth. “Please let me cum, daddy.”

The embarrassment was still there, your face still flushed, but you didn’t care one bit. You needed this, needed him.

“I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please”, you begged again, “please let me cum, daddy.”

He smirked. “I don’t think you deserve that yet. First you’ll be a good girl for me.”

Your hands strained against the leather of the belt against your own will, but it didn’t help anything. You were still tied and helpless. So you simply nodded.

You licked your lips which had dried out, when he finally freed your mouth.

“Who are you?”

You slowly looked up at him. “Your girl.” You whispered.

He hummed in agreement. “What else are you?”

Your face flushed deeply when you thought about what he wanted to hear. “I…”

“Say it.” He said in a more demanding tone and grasped your chin in a bruising grip again.

“Your cumslut.” You said quietly, but it was barely audible. It seemed good enough for him, because he didn’t insist you repeated it.

“Good girl.” He whispered and gently ran his thumb over your lips. “Spread your legs for me, my good girl. I want to fuck you. Make space for daddy.”

Your face flushed even more, but you obeyed. You slowly parted your thighs, making space for him. You took a shaky breath when you felt him settle behind you on the bed, one hand grasping at your wrists, the other one pressed into the mattress next to your face, so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight.

You hadn’t even realized when he’d stripped off his boxers, until you felt the tip of his cock rub along your entrance. A needy whine came over your lips and you closed your eyes.

“Beg me for it, baby.” He whispered in your ear from behind. A shiver ran down your spine and you held back a moan, when he began to rub his cock over your core in a torturously slow movement. You were so wet and ready and yet he held himself back.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You whispered, unable to open your eyes. You were so ashamed and embarrassed that it nearly choked the words silent on your tongue, but you still forced them out.

“Louder.”

You swallowed thickly. “Please.” You managed. “Please fuck me, daddy. Please, let me feel you.” You were surprised by how desperate you sounded.

Even more so by how desperate you felt.

“That’s my good girl.” In a swift movement, he thrusted forward and filled you to the brim, not giving you a moment to adjust to his size, before he began to fuck into you. You head fell forward and you released a breathless moan against the pillow.

It was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but the pain subsided quickly, when he began to hit the sweet spot inside of you as if he was desperate to make you cum as quickly as possible. He had never taken you from behind before and you had no idea how incredible it felt. Every thrust hit the right spot and it didn’t take you longer than a few seconds until you felt the need inside you build up intensely.

“Oh God.” You breathed out. “Oh God, please.”

He grunted in your ear, a sound that made you all the more aroused. The sound of his quick breaths and the way they hit your ear was almost too much. And when he bit down on your earlobe hard enough to make you cry out in pain, it was too much and you came.

You came with an intensity that made it impossible for you to stay quiet. You cried out in a way that sounded surprising to your own ears. You had never been much of a moaning girl, but that was too good. Too hard.

Too much.

The pleasure quickly shifted into over-stimulation when he didn’t stop thrusting into you, even after your walls clenched around him. He moaned again and you bit down on the pillow, your legs trembling furiously.

“Please.” You gasped out. “Please. Too much-“

“Good.” He growled and began to fuck into with even more intensity. You were close to crying, it felt almost painful, but at the same time you could tell you were almost getting there again.

“I beg you.” You cried out. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“Yes, beg me, my little cumslut.” He groaned in your ear as he kept moving furiously. “It won’t make me stop.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and your hips twitched again, desperate to get away. You strained against the binds again, but he just held your wrists tighter. Until he released them and instead pushed two fingers in your mouth.

“Spit.” He hissed.

You moaned against him and tried to obey, but it was hard with someone thrusting his fingers in your mouth as if trying to hit the back of your throat. You spat down on them and coated them in your saliva, until you felt him pull them out and instead rub your clit with his slick fingers again.

You nearly screamed when he did and you felt the excitement burn up again, until you were almost ready to cum. But you were afraid, afraid that he’d keep going until you couldn’t take any more, until you’d start crying and even bleeding maybe.

“Please.” You cried out again, your voice breaking with every thrust.

“Shut up.” He hissed as he rubbed your clit in a way that made it impossible for you to shut up.

“What are you?”

“Your cumslut.” You cried out.

“My cumslut.” He gritted out again. He was so furious. So angry. And he was keen on taking it out on you. Before you knew it, his hand wrapped around your throat tightly again. “I’ll punish if you cum before I tell you to.”

Your eyes shot open and you nearly choked. You gasped for air. He wasn’t kidding. You knew he would. You tried your best not to, but it was near impossible.

“Please-“

Your body betrayed you. And you came. With his hand around your throat and a loud, shuddery gasp, you came.

Your walls clenched around him again, something that made him moan out and the sound only intensified the feeling inside of you.

When your body stopped trembling, his movements stilled and he pulled his hand away.

“You disobeyed. Stupid girl.”

“Please, I didn’t want-“

He pulled back roughly and stood up, standing beside the bed and staring down at you with wide, crazed eyes.

“Gun or knife. Choose.”

Oh God.

You felt the way the blood seemed to leave your face and your brain. You opened your mouth and closed it several times. Was he going to kill you? Was this the end?

Did he make you cum, just to kill you?

Had he only read to you, because this was your last day on earth?

When he said you meant something to him, was that a lie?

Were you just his to torment, his to get rid of?

You felt tears sting your eyes. You wanted to cry and beg and plead. You immediately missed the man he had been three hours ago. The man you fell in love with. The husband type of guy. The silly man, who didn’t catch the grape.

“Please.” You whispered and your voice cracked.

“If you don’t choose”, he gritted out, “I will.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you rolled over just enough to face him fully. Suddenly you were more than thankful that he didn’t rip your pretty nightdress off when he began to fuck you. Dying naked sounded even more horrifying to you. Dying was bad enough. But naked?

“I-“

“Too late.” He bit out.

He rummaged through the wardrobe again and came back with a kitchen knife. He kept a fucking knife in his wardrobe?

You let out a horrified gasp and tried to back away against the wall, but it wasn’t easy. You struggled against the belt that kept your wrists tied up desperately, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

And suddenly you were sure.

This was the end of you.

The end of a miserable life with an even more miserable ending.

He slammed down the knife beside your head and rolled you onto your back.

You stared at him with wide eyes and wet lashes.

“Please.” You whispered again, against the sound of a choked sob. What could you say to convince him not to kill you? What could you do? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were done for.

This was it.

“Spread your legs.”

You swallowed thickly. He would really kill you, while he was inside you?

The thought brought even more tears to your eyes.

“Please. I-“

“Now.”

Against your better judgement, you obeyed. You slowly parted your legs again, letting him in. Your arms hurt terribly, with your weight on them and now his was added.

He picked up the knife and pressed the blade against your throat hard enough for you to feel it, but not enough to cut you. And you let out a sharp gasp, when he pushed forward and suddenly he was fucking you again.

“My good girl.” He murmured and let out a soft moan. “Oh, my good girl, you trust me, don’t you?”

He began to move faster and harder, causing you to moan, despite yourself. You were still crying. The feel of the cold blade against your skin was enough to make sure of it.

But the pleasure rolled over you in waves, despite your fear.

You released a sob and nodded.

“My good girl. My darling girl. My sweet girl.” He whispered and pressed the knife down slightly tighter, but still not enough to cut you.

His other hand wandered up and he pressed his fingers into your cheeks, enough to make you moan out again.

“Say it.” He growled.

“I’m your girl.” You whispered shakily.

“Again.”

He was growing closer, you could tell. His movements, once controlled, became more and more reckless and his moans grew louder.

“I- I’m your girl.” Your insides twitched.

“Fuck, yes, you are. My girl. My good girl.”

He gave a particularly hard thrust and you were sure. You would…

Oh, fuck.

You came in a way you never had before. You clenched around him yet again and moaned desperately, gasping for air and not caring a bit about the cold metal pressed against your throat.

Instead, you felt it seemed to intensify the feeling somehow.

You were so helpless.

The moment you came, you heard him moan louder than before and his body tensed. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, twitching and throbbing.

A moment later, he let the knife slip from his hand and it rolled off the bed with a loud click. His head dipped forward and he buried his face in your neck as he rode out his release. He opened his mouth and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your neck.

And suddenly you were sure.

He wouldn’t let you go and you were special.

But was that really a good thing?

“Oh God.” He breathed out when he slowly came down from his high. Your hips twitched in exhaustion and over-stimulation. You had never felt so worn-out and satisfied at the same time.

You didn’t even realize how you were still crying, until he pulled his head back to look at you. The fury was gone. He was much more calm now and the softness was back.

Just like that.

His brows furrowed and he gently cupped your face in his hands.

“Did I hurt you?” He whispered.

Your eyes fell shut and you nodded. You sniffled softly.

His head fell forward aagain nd he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. Then your nose, and then your cheek. Kissing away your tears. A moment later, you felt the salt on your lips when he brushed his over them, kissing you softly.

“I would never kill you. You know that, right?”

You swallowed thickly. Just a minute earlier you had been sure he would stab you to death.

But you forced yourself to nod.

“Good.” He whispered. “Because I would never kill you, my sweet, darling girl.”

He smiled and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“At least not unless you gave me a reason to.”

___________________________________________________

Tag list: @mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q @whitefeathers @ennvfv @heartzxx @yourpointbreak @hell0kittt @salesmanlover08 @pascalislove @nina357 @ing9449myu @vamplivivi @tvbais @ilovenana00 @misswannadiesworld @glads-stuff @chunkzdeluluwife @estreiiuh @lokis-lovely-muse @zaimeskuna @lalalaa2210 @i-might-be-vanny @cupidzslvt @k1rapark3r @vyladsgirl @jayyourbabe @yeaiamme2 @babyscilence @abcde-12345dorito @madzpm @o9sessions @dilfismz @idenack @sunburngal @prettysatoru @newtscreatures347269 @4j4ax @yru3xme @rafecamsgirlll @recordofragnarokfan2 @hayakamis-blog @kttb @fictionalmen-dilflover @puddingknows @wanderlustingcastaway @magicseahorse

If I forgot anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it!

Author's note: Sorry guys, his insanity won over this one. But I'm positive he'll show us another side of him in the future!

[asaltysquid]

I've been reflecting a lot on this piece as of late since my body has changed dramatically over the two years.

I am now oddly enough. Skinny.

My entire life I fought with my own skin both due to the latent fatphobia embedded into our society but also just due to being trans, fatness emphasized everything I wanted to rip off of myself. Being skinny became equated to not only desirability but passability.

But no matter how much I tried I just couldn't lose that weight and it wasn't until about three years ago when I really started to deconstruct transmedicalism that I also began to deconstruct my internalized fatphobia.

Without going into too much detail, due to OCD i detransitioned for a bit in which I spent some time in those spaces and found, to my surprise, most of the angry vitriolic ex trans people were trans meds who had been "so sure" because they hated being a woman so much, not the so called "trenders".

So I realized that if I was going to transition it was because I was happier as a man not because I was miserable as a woman...and this began to slide into other aspects of my life including weight. For more than a decade I abused my body and health to try and achieve the skinniness I thought I wanted but it only made me more miserable. When I started to allow my body to just be and trust it with itself...I found joy and desirability. ((Also drawing a wider range of bodies helped with this as did finding men I enjoy and find handsome who I could see myself in))

Now, I work pretty much full time. T has hit me like a truck in the weight distribution department. And I look how 17 year old me would have always wanted to look.

And you know what? I miss being chubby. I miss the space my body took up and the heft it gave me. I miss the way my body hair spread over it. I miss the weight it gave my neck and jaw. I miss being larger than my partners and holding them with my everything.

Just..for the first time in my life..I want to gain weight. And that makes me really happy. But for now I'm just going to let my body do what it does and trust I will take the form I need to.

I don't really know exactly what I'm trying to say with this except for - trans mascs I love you deeply and the amount of you who have felt seen by this piece fills me with immense joy. Please don't rob yourself of joy to try and make yourself what you think the world needs you to be. Trust that whatever shape or size you are you have worth and you are beautiful.

The world is better with you in it.

Self Portrait I’m calling “Twink Death” and is about me learning to accept gaining weight and my body shape as the Italian stallion I am😔

Basically trans male fatness is something that has been on my mind as it feels society puts such a pressure on Ftm people to be either effeminate and twinkish or perfectly passing and fit to be desirable, and where self love and attraction comes in for trans mascs who are neither of those things

There's more I could wax poetic about but alas I'm sleepy.

[yourtypicalhuman09]

Beyond The Bat

(Neglected reader x Yandere batfam)

Chapter 1: In The Shadows

TW!!! Cursing !!Dark AU!!

Living in the Wayne manor isn't the sweet luxurious dream you'd think it'd be, reality is in fact much crueler. For as long as I could remember I had lived in this dreary mansion, but lived isn't the word I'd use. I was more trapped here if anything. My "family", if I could even call them that, are well respected people. They're highly skilled and talented people, someone like me could only dream to be like them. I tried so hard to get close to them, I really did try, but no matter what I did nothing worked. I did everything, gymnastics, martial arts, theater, art, music, coding, dance, volleyball, cheerleading, heck I was even in the honors society. Despite being an A+ student and a role model in high society they never once went to any of my recitals, games, or showcases. I went to galas all alone, I had to deal with the sneering faces and snide remarks of high class men and woman alone since I was 8. Not very safe for a child huh? I didn't think so either but my "father" doesn't seem to care.

Nevertheless, I have no choice in this matter and it's not like life here is unbearable. Sure I get beatings and tongue lashings every now and then, but for the most part everyone in the manor tends to forget me eventually and leave me alone. It's pretty isolating but I got used to it, after all I have duties to perform. I have my job as Student council president and I don't intend to slack off. I got that job with my own blood sweat and tears and I will not let all those sleepless nights go to waste. I don't have time to wallow in self pity I have countless of students looking up to me and counting on me to do my job.

"Young master, are you okay? You seem to be staring off into space."

I looked up to our old butler, his face jaded and littered with wrinkles that seemed to contort pathetically in worry. I knew better than to accept his pity. He seems to be a wise gentle man on the outside with his elegant wardrobe, worn old body, and soft spoken demeanor, but do not be fooled. In truth, Alfred Pennyworth was a foolish coward. This was the same man who abandoned his own daughter just like my idiot of a father. I gave him a chance, but nothing's been the same since the day he accidentally called me Julia. I was nothing but a stand in for him, someone to relieve his guilt with.

"I'm fine. Don't you have something better to do? I'm sure Bruce has some kind of task for you, no need to bother yourself with my problems"

"...Very well then...Take care of yourself young master."

He clearly had something more to say but he decided to do nothing and walk away. Like I said he's a coward. Still I'm not new to disappointment, whether it's the disappointment of missed birthdays or the way they all see me as the disappointment, it's nothing I haven't experienced before. I quickly packed up my things and headed to school. Sure riding to school on an old worn out bike isn't exactly ideal, but I have to deal with what I have. Although, I do have to take some back alleys to school since I don't want anyone seeing and starting a scandal. I can already see the blaring headlines, "Daughter of Gotham's richest man caught riding to school on a beat up bicycle!". What a bunch of nosy bastards.

"Good mornin' (Y/N)!"

I turned to face the sunny senior calling my name, his unadulterated joy making him stand out in the crowd of groggy gothamites.

"Good morning Cyrus."

My crisp responses never seems to deter the boy as he continues to walk beside me chattering endlessly.

"(Y/N) I got things you asked! It's super cool what you're doing for the school, I'm so happy I get to be apart of it! If you ever need help with anything please do ask me!"

I sighed, his joyful energy was contagious. I couldn't help but crack a smile. Though it quickly disappeared as I regained my composure, but obviously not fast enough since Cyrus' joy seems to only be growing.

"Ahhhhh (Y/N) just smiled! I made the student president smile! I'm so sigma"

Here he goes again with those weird words and that cocky grin. I sighed once again, I'm too tired for this.

"Yes thank you Cyrus get to class now, I'll pick up the things I asked for after school."

"Yes ma'am!"

I watched as he playfully saluted and ran to class almost bumping into several people along the way. I facepalmed, he was such a handful but strangely I don't really mind. It's probably the lack of sleep I'll make sure to go to bed early today, for now I have to get to class myself.

Author's note: Omg chapter one is finally out! This took me a lot longer than expected but I hope it's good I went through a tiny writer's block😅. I hope you guys like Cyrus I tried to make him a silly and sunny character but trust me he'll have lore and be a much deeper character. I also tried making (Y/N)'s backstory pretty vague since they're the narrator and I figured they wouldn't like talking about it, but their lore will be revealed more throughout future chapters. Anyways as always thank you all for reading and have a good day/night!

Credits to khaer for the dividers

@simpingpandas @rosalietodd013 @sirenetheblogger @cim0nnin @00hellohello00 @crazycaoticsimp @lovebug-apple @youdontknowshtaboutfk

[urhoneycombwitch]

i fumbled and deleted the original request... insert ovulation dry humping anon req here (anon I deeply apologize 😭)

<3 <3 <3

foreword: okay no literally ovulation happens once a month. every month. since I was young. and somehow it’s still a surprise every time??? wtf. relatable tho. you know I’m always down for some slutty over the clothes action w/Eddie+R so here’s more of that love u 5ever thanks for sending <3

cw: pov Eddie, LTR, pet names (babe, sweetheart), soft!dom Eddie, reader is gn, r has breasts + vagina, ovulation, smut, dry humping, scent kink (if you squint), you-know-who cums in his pants king <3 +18 MDNI!!!

wc: 1.4k

____

It’s halfway through Saturday when Eddie realizes the source of your discomfort. 

You’ve been on edge since the morning, grumbly far past the mug of coffee that usually improved your mood.

Unable to settle, you’d been flitting from one task to the next, muttering curses at the underside of the fridge shelves or scoured sinks. When Eddie offered to help, you’d snapped at him- with no real bite to your voice, but sharp enough to send him back a step.

“Sorry.” Your apology came swift as the bark before it, back turned at the sink, shoulders tight and trembling with exertion in the pause. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m just… I didn’t sleep well, or something. Sorry.”

Eddie approached the angry, sparking form of you, uncaring if he got burnt in the process- but his arm seemingly slipped between the defensive shield, taut as a seatbelt across your chest and just as grounding. 

He felt the resistance from the tip of your toes to the top of your spine, wound tight but not enough to keep you from yielding a bit into his hold; Eddie dipped his chin to your shoulder, kissed over the flannel, then one at your bare neck- “S’okay. Want some help?”

Testing the waters of your irritation, Eddie had an inkling this mood might be hormone-related, further proved by the way you were unintentionally pressing back into his body; if he had to guess, you were less a ticking time bomb and more like a hostile cat, touch-starved and willing to be stroked into good behavior. 

“I’m almost done.” In answer, your voice was weary and strung-out, sponge squeezed in your grip like a lifeline. “And then I’ll do the oven, which I don’t particularly want your help with- no offense.”

Eddie wasn’t offended in the slightest, not with you melting like butter in his arms and the incident from last autumn cleaning still scorched in his nasal memory. “None taken. If I burn my eyebrows off again you’ll kick me to the curb, I know the rules.”

That got a half-smile, hard-won, and Eddie kissed it from your lips before making a retreat for the outdoors, with a few last remarks about being the Man of the House and doing some Manscaping (in truth, the outdoor shed is mostly used for dust collection purposes, but you laughed so he’s taking the win). 

Eddie strips down to his black undershirt, spring air fresh and sun mild as he sweeps the front porch and steps. He makes sure to cross in front of the kitchen window’s path a few times, on the off chance you want to ogle at the extra skin and back muscles in secret. 

When he heads indoors to wash up, you’ve beat him to the punch, perched on the couch with a book, in a fresh t-shirt and pair of clean jeans. 

“What a gorgeous sink,” he comments from the kitchen, sloughing the accumulated grime from between his fingers and rings. “Looks too clean and fancy for lil’ old me. Might wanna banish me to the outdoor hose from now on.”

The corner of your mouth lifts to show you’re listening, but the joke isn’t enough to smooth the deep frown lines from your pretty face as you glower at the pages in your lap. 

Eddie flings himself onto the couch beside you, budging up obnoxiously close so he can see the new object of your vexation.

“It’s from the library, due in two days so I’m trying to finish,” you say by way of explanation, eyes fixed on the print as Eddie hooks his chin over your shoulder.

There’s over half the novel left. “Babe, I don’t think humankind was made to read that much Salinger in one weekend. It’ll make you batty.”

“Fair point.” Taking the bid to set the distraction aside, you toss it with a thunk on the coffee table.

Eddie feels your sigh, head lifting at the deep rise and fall. Even if your internal systems are fighting it, there’s a soft longing with which you move, in the tiny ways you open for Eddie, or shift to be closer- it’s a confusing opposition of signals, and Eddie might be hopeless if he hadn’t made it his life’s mission to study you completely. 

“Wanna veg out and watch some crap TV?” 

When you nod, Eddie flicks on a reruns channel, then reaches to drape an arm around you, stopping with a wince partway- “On second thought. The back I inherited directly from my uncle is requiring a horizontal position after all that sweeping. You mind laying down with me, sweetheart?”

He’s laying it on a little thick, and Eddie almost feels bad until he remembers this is for a higher cause; you comply so sweetly and willingly, pulling him down flush between the couch and your back. 

“Should’ve let me do the sweeping.” Your voice is relaxed, barely a mumble as Eddie molds himself to the warmth and shape of you, one arm settling over your waist, the other across your upper chest.

“Shh. You’re incoherent. Rambling nonsense. S’posed to be vegging out.” Eddie gives you a little shake, then a growl that precedes a bite to the softest part of your neck. 

This makes your spine arch, ass pushing back into the cradle of his hips as a bright peal of giggles leaves you breathless. Eddie takes the opportunity to slide his thigh between yours, passing it off as necessary to getting the perfect angle for kissing your neck.

He didn’t bite near hard enough to bruise but kisses over the teeth marks regardless. At your chest, a cool track of his ringed hand trails innocently down- until his whole palm is suddenly over your breast.

On low, crackly volume, there’s an audience laugh track as Eddie tweaks at your nipple, peaked through the layers of shirt and bra. A whiny, high moan from your throat when he pairs this with a solid rocking forward of his thigh against your cunt. 

Eddie’s pretty sure he can feel the beginnings of your dampness seeping through to his own skin; the thought makes him groan, blood rushing in his ears and south quick enough to dizzy.

“Eddie.” This time, your voice is wavering and small, and Eddie’s glad for the automatic mute feature as the TV changes to commercial. “Please don’t tease.”

“Honey, I promise I’m not.” Eddie’s close to hysterics (laughing or crying, unclear at this juncture), settling his nose where your neck and shoulder meet, huffing a laugh. “It’s okay. Just relax. Let me help you feel good.”

The last threads of your resolve are splintering, thighs stuttering and tightening around each thrust of his hips. At the small of your back, Eddie cock throbs. 

“Wanted you-ah-… all day.” Your confession split by a gasp when Eddie finally gets past the restriction of your bra cup, thumbing hard into doughy flesh.

“All you had to do was ask, sweet thing.” The skin under Eddie’s nose is intoxicating- he could swear you smell different on ovulation days: this wild, heady lull of siren song calling out to him. “You’re just how I like you, though. Stubborn. Won’t ask unless I’m giving it. You can take, now.”

Permission grants you new purpose, following the urge of Eddie’s hand at your hip with pleasure-soaked intent. A few more fluid rolls of hips and Eddie feels the telltale signs of your panting pitching upwards, legs and stomach tensing- “That’s it. Good, baby, let go. Yes.”

This last encouragement pushes you over the edge, coming hard with a long, low noise from your dropped jaw, thighs clamping and spasming with the force of it.

Eddie makes sure to wring out the last of your aftershocks on his shaking thigh before he comes, too, cock pulsing into the constrictive fabric of zippered jeans but blessedly rutting against the firm contours of your ass. “Fuck me.”

“I’ll say.” Sounding similarly winded, you clutch at Eddie’s arms, keeping them wrapped around your form as breath returns. “How the hell did you know I needed that?”

By smell is probably a bit too hard to explain (or defend). Eddie shrugs, pulling you ever closer. “Call it lover’s intuition.”

[mr2swap]

Stepdad and son time

-Calm down old man, A cigarette won't ruin “My” body-

My stepfather Steve smiled confidently at me and then flexed his huge arms just to reinforce his point.

-I even think they are a little bigger than the last time you saw them, right Steve?-

Despite being outdoors the powerful aroma that came from the smoke reached my nose, that aroma was so familiar, but at the same time it was different I could remember the taste, however I had never tasted one. It was the old and dry lips of my stepfather, those Who remembered the delicious and soothing taste of that horrible habit.

-Oh! How rude I have been... Do you want any of this?? -

Steve took a couple of steps towards me and held the cigarette towards my face, the same face he had left behind 3 years ago. I'm not sure how he did it, but I have no doubt that he is to blame for what I now look like. As an overweight, middle-aged Southern man, I couldn't resist the soothing taste of a good cigarette.

Suddenly my mind relaxed and all the hatred I felt for the guy who had ruined my life vanished. Steve looks as damn happy and confident as the last time I saw him. We continue fishing, drinking and talking as if we were really a couple. Stepfather and his son having a good time, son of a bitch…

When I lived with my mom, he and I never got along well, sometimes we went days without talking even if our room was only a couple of meters away. To me, Steve was just a lazy idiot who was lucky to find someone like my mom.

Although my mom tried to get us closer multiple times, she didn't succeed, Steve and I were very different. I used to be a sports fan, I spent time with my friends playing all day or sweating in the gym, but all that changed when I turned 21 years old, Steve suddenly began to take an interest in my life in a somewhat obsessive way. He started watching the videos I posted about my workouts on Instagram and looking at my friends' profiles.

But the most obvious proof that he was the cause of all this was that just a week after we "mysteriously" woke up in the other's body, Steve left the house in the middle of the night with my motorcycle, the selfish bastard. The only thing he left me was his social security number and a small message:

“I'm sorry that we couldn't find out what caused us to exchange our bodies, but I think we should both continue with our lives. Take care of your mother and don't worry... I'll go visit.”

Since that day my life has been shit, I don't know what the fuck he did to me, but since that day I've had to fight every day with that little voice in my head That makes me act like an idiot, Sometimes and all I can think about is How damn hot it is in the house and how good I could use a six-pack of beer. I guess he thought he would do me a favor by doing that to me to blend in more, or maybe I'm just his trash can where he dumped his shitty habits including his taste in women and Susan, my mother.

Every night before I go to sleep I try to be so fucking drunk that I forget what I do at night with my own mother and when I can't get my mother to give me money for the beers I masturbate furiously in the bathroom to relieve my desire for the disgusting sex with mom

If you're still horny and want to read more of my m2m bodyswap stories, subscribe to my Ko-fi I have over 250 stories in my archives

[ultravi0lence14]

CONFETTI ON THE FLOOR

DEAN WINCHESTER X BIMBO!READER

WARNINGS: none cause it’s my baby’s bday. just a bunch of fluff and some suggestiveness😏

SUMMARY: it’s dean’s birthday, and the only thing he wants to do is spend time with his girl.

WC: 978

“dean, dean! wake up!” the sweet sound of an angel’s song and the jostling of his mattress woke dean up from his deep slumber. a groan rippled from his lips as he felt a weight drop onto his body, straddling his lap and lightly shaking his shoulders. “c‘mon sleepyhead, i’ve got a surprise for the birthday boy!”

he knew that the voice enthusiastically waking him up was his sweet girl, but he also couldn’t help but be surprised at what you were saying — well, more like squealing — to him.

was it january 24th already? he knew that he commonly lost track of time and dates while being on hunts, but he was positive that he should’ve remembered his birthday coming up.

slowly opening his eyes, dean was greeted by the soft features of your face. big, round eyes were the first thing he saw, followed by the natural pout of your soft pink lips. the soft strands of your hair fell around you and dean like a privacy curtain, and the now 35 year old man couldn’t help but brush it out of your face and behind your ear.

your smile was infectious, and dean found himself grinning alongside you. “a surprise?” his voice had that same lilt of cockiness it always did, but you knew that was just how dean was. and around you? he was the most caring person you’ve ever met. “does it happen to be the pretty thing on top of me by any chance?”

a shy smile graced your face, your hand lifting to hit dean on the chest as your head went down to hide in the crook of his neck. “don’t be so dirty dean,” his stubble scratched at your cheeks, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. he looked way too hot when he forgot to shave. “i spent a lot of time on this. so let’s go, the food in the kitchen is not going to eat itself.”

releasing a joking huff, dean leaned up to plant a delicate kiss on your cheek, gripping your hips so he could softly place you beside him. “if i find a pie on the kitchen table, i’m gonna show you the only thing i want for my birthday, sweet thing.”

you just blushed harder, climbing off of the bed and following dean out of his room. you clutched onto his arm, resting your head on his shoulder as you both walked towards the kitchen. he loved you like this; excited, and so full of love that is was practically bursting from your pores.

when dean entered the kitchen, he never felt his heart feel more full. it was like it was beating out of his chest, exploding all his love towards his girl.

it was nothing crazy, and that’s what dean loved about it. you knew him, and you knew he wasn’t an over the top kind of guy. a simple sign that you had made from paper and string read ‘happy birthday’ in pink marker — your favourite colour, but he didn’t mind.

balloon’s were littered on the floor, alongside a plethora of confetti that dean couldn’t help but smile at. sitting on the table, was two birthday hats and an apple pie with a candle sticking out the top.

a soft smile graced dean’s features, head turning downwards. his eyes pierced yours, slowly detaching your arm from his body so he could wrap his arms around you and pull your body into his chest. “you did this all for me, baby?”

your eyes held a nervous lilt before, staring up at your lover wide eyed as you watched him take in your work. but as he praised you, one hand running down your arm to your low back and the other tangling in your hair, you couldn’t help but let a shy smile break through.

slightly nodding your head, you wrapped your arms around his waist, clutching onto his body in a tight embrace. “yeah, i did.” you cradled your cheek into his chest, listening to his heart beat faster and faster.

the softness of your voice had dean chuckling, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the crown of your head. “you’re one of a kind, sweet girl. i don’t think i could possibly love you anymore.” his grin was blinding, and your chest tightened as you remembered the other surprise you had up your sleeve.

“actually,” you smiled softly, pulling away from dean so you could grab the gift you hid underneath the kitchen table. “i’ve got a little something special that i thought you’d like.”

dean’s eyes widened as you pulled the wrapped square present from it’s spot, handing it over to dean with a bounce in your heals. “i saw this online, and i couldn’t help myself.” with expectant hands, dean tore up the present like an excited child, eyes lighting up with excitement and mouth slightly dropping when he saw an original AC/DC vinyl, signed by all the band members.

“oh my god,” he breathed out, hands tightly gripping the album like it would grow legs and run away. “baby, how did you even find this?”

a shy blush rose to your cheeks, your chin dipping down to your shoulder as you raised them in a shrug. “found it on ebay. i happen to be a pro at those auctions.”

you couldn’t even finish your sentence before dean’s lips crashed onto yours. a gasp tore from your lips into his mouth, hands clutching at your waist as yours went around his neck. pulling him in closer, you could feel the ridges of his abs and the record pressed up against your back, still in dean’s clutches.

“i love you.” he murmured into your mouth, the feeling of his tongue exploring yours afterwards being all consuming. “this might be my best birthday yet.”

TAGS: @starzify @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @foolinthera1n @figthoughts @haunteres @gibson-g1rl @vaiieydoii @deanangel @honeyryewhiskey @misatxox @a-lil-pr1ncess

NAT BABBLES: szn 9 stubble dean nation rise up‼️also as much as i would’ve loved to write smut for this, i just thought i’d be a little silly and cut it off before anything crazy could happen🤭

[dixonsdarkelf]

Not An Invitation: Daryl Dixon & Fem!Reader

Full title: This is not an invitation (fuck you mean you need it?)

Summary: Shane never knew when he wasn't welcome in someone's space, and he was often invading yours. After one time too many, a certain archer comes to your defense. Inspired by the song 'Invitation' by Ashnikko.

Era: Season 2, Greene Farm

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: No use of y/n, swearing, Shane being a major-league creep

“I told you to leave me alone,” you protested. The anger you’d been able to keep at bay thus far threatened to bubble over, simmering just below boiling point under the surface. You were usually the more relaxed one in the group—calm, level-headed, and rational. You hated confrontation and aimed to avoid it at all costs. But you’d had enough.

Shane took a liking to you from the moment you arrived at the farm. He’d often find ways to get close to you, even if what he was supposed to be doing was nowhere near where you were. You’d told him to scram on more than one occasion, usually under the guise of needing to scamper off to do your chores.

One thing about Shane, however, was that he didn’t know how to take no for an answer.

“All I said was you’re lookin’ good today,” he repeated. With an eye roll heavy enough to nearly roll your head back with it, you rose from your spot on the porch and started walking away, knowing the asshole deputy was close behind.

“That isn’t all you said, and you know that,” you snapped, not so much as turning your head back to look at him as you kept walking. He’d said far more than just that, as he often did. His other commentary made your stomach churn, and it was enough for you to not ever think of repeating it.

“C’mon, it’s just a little harmless fun,” he sighed, picking up his pace to catch up to you. You swallowed hard and kept your eyes on the field in front of you. The only one having fun in this situation was him.

“Hardly call it harmless,” you scoffed. You heard him catch up to you, but before he could get close enough to reach for your arm, he was, as he would have put it, “rudely interrupted.”

Your saving grace approached from your peripheral, slipping past you without a word to confront the man on your heels. He stood between you, not quite completely shielding you from Shane’s prying eyes, but close. You couldn’t see, but you pictured his beautiful, piercing baby blues searing through Shane. It brought a hint of a smile to your face to know that, of all people who could’ve come to your defense, the handsome archer was the one.

Daryl Dixon was the quietest one of the group, often keeping to himself in his tent on the outskirts of your makeshift campsite. You’d heard him equated to a feral dog, minus the possible rabies. He was more than just a little rough around the edges, but you saw right through it. You knew there was more to the man behind the crossbow.

Shane had taken a liking to you, but you had taken a liking to Daryl.

“Think she said to back off,” Daryl cut in. You looked up at him. eyes traveling from his chestnut locks to his broad shoulders and up to the beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. Some would say it was from the heat. Others might say it was from anger.

“Don’t think I was talkin’ to you, Dixon.” Having been a cop in the old world, Shane was used to bossing people around without any back talk. His voice was rigid, sharp enough to slice through anyone who got in his way. Except for Daryl.

“Dun’ think she was wantin’ to talk to ya,” he repeated, more stern this time. He held his crossbow firmly in his hands, 

You’d never seen him use it on anyone in the group

When Daryl didn’t so much as flinch, Shane took one last look at you before walking off, his tail between his legs. You hadn’t realized that every muscle in your body tensed up, but the moment Shane was out of sight, you relaxed, quickly steadying yourself. Once you did, you went to turn to Daryl, but during your moment of unsteadiness, he’d pondered off. You would just have to thank him later.

Later that afternoon, after all your work had been completed, you wandered over to Daryl’s tent, half-expecting him to not be there. Yet there he was, carving a stick into a bolt for the thousandth time. You ran a hand through your hair to brush it out of your eyes before gathering the courage to get close enough to talk to him. Once you were only a few feet away, he looked up at you, those gorgeous pools of blue making your heart stop.

This was the closest in proximity you two had ever been while alone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spook you,” you said, your voice timid in comparison to your usual confidence. You had no evidence that you’d spooked him, but you were nervous, and not knowing what else to say to start the conversation, that’s what came out.

“Dun’ get spooked,” he replied, focusing his attention back on the stick in his hands. The movements of his knife were fluid, easy, like he’d done it so many times, he could do it in his sleep. It was simultaneously attractive and terrifying.

“I, umm…” your voice trailed off, the whole monologue you’d prepared in your head being dwindled down to two simple words as your nerves took over, “thanks, Daryl.”

He looked back up at you again. “For what?”

“For earlier,” you explained, “for what happened with Shane.” You lowered yourself slowly, hesitantly, as if you were still deciding whether or not to sit down despite doing so. You made sure to keep your distance as to respect his personal space.

“Wasn’t nothin’,” he assured, pausing his handiwork, “asshole’s bein’ a creep. Someone had to put ‘em in his place.”

A small smile graced your lips. “Well, if meant a lot to me.” He simply nodded and continued what he was doing, but you weren’t finished. “He said a lot worse, y’know? You just weren’t around for that.”

Daryl’s gaze scanned over you, like he was trying to read between the empty spaces of your words, eager for more details but not pressing. He’d known Shane for far longer than you had, and he was well-aware of the kind of shit he’d said to women in the past. The thought of him saying such vile things to you made him sick, but he kept his expression stoic, same as always.

You echoed your earlier words, your voice thick with emotion. “So…thank you.”

“Dun’ mention it,” he reassured. For a brief moment, you thought you’d caught a glimpse, a tiny hint, of a smile from the archer. However, it was so quick, almost like a glitch, and you couldn’t be sure.

“Do you mind if I stay here for a while? I don’t exactly feel like going back to the others yet,” you confessed. 

“Long as ya promise to be quiet,” he teased, “had enough yappin’ from Sheriff Shithead already.”

You chuckled softly and dropped your gaze for a moment before meeting his again. For a brief moment, his heart stopped, taking in the stunning sight and sound in front of him. Your laugh was like music to his ears. “I can do that.”

The silence between you was soft, comfortable, the only sounds around you being the birds in the trees and his knife scraping across yet another stick. And you sat just like that for hours, not bothered that barely a word was exchanged.

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie @holdmytesseract @dixons-sunshine

GIF and copyright below by me, sparkle dividers by @anitalenia

[shomatoriashi]

01/25/25; 09:22pm

caleb x fem.reader | mc.reader

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

{ take me to your best friend’s house, i loved you then and i love you now. }

thinking about how caleb refuses to let you leave the comfort of his bed in the mornings.

due to how much brighter the sunrise was in skyhaven, it came as no surprise at how you were the first to awaken. you stretch out your naked body, feeling a familiar ache between your legs (evidence of what had transpired the night before.) allowing his comforter to slide off your bare shoulders, you look back at caleb and take a moment to admire his sleeping features.

a deep set of violet eyes remain hidden beneath his closed eyelids, full lips parted slightly as his broad chest rises and falls in tune to his breathing. filled with a sense of love and devotion for him, you decided to do something special for him when you removed yourself completely from the sheets, your feet barely touching the ground for a mere few seconds when caleb’s large arms encircle around your naked waist once more.

letting out a gasp, you struggle against his hold for a brief moment, trembling slightly when you heard his lazy chuckle directly within your ear. “and where do you think you’re going, pipsqueak?”

you were about to tell him how you wanted to spoil him with your own cooking, wishing to make some breakfast that he could enjoy in bed-

but the sensation of something hard pressing against your backside makes your mouth go dry. “c-caleb-“

“hn?” letting out a grunt of your name, he expertly spreads your legs wide open for him, his fingertips tracing at the outer lips of your cunt. your breathing turns labored when he manages to collect droplets of your arousal, playing with the moisture before plunging his fingers directly into your heat.

you cried out to him, nails digging into the sheets when you allow caleb to keep one of your legs upright with his powerful grip alone. he continues to explore your aching cunt, basking in the squelching sounds of your slick heat taking in his thick fingertips. “hm… someone is excited to feel me.”

you let out a low hiss in response to his sinful words, “caleb… ngh… stop talking… like a dirty old man.”

cue another series of rich chuckles. he leans closer to whisper in your ear, pumping his fingers in and out of you at an even faster pace, “what? i’m not lying. and besides…” he trails off before giving your hardened clit a gentle squeeze, making your thighs inevitably trap his hand inside of you as you climaxed against him. “only i can make you fall apart like this.”

the scent of your release remains thick in the air when caleb forces you to lay back against his bed. the blankets had long since fallen off his form, making your walls clench at the sight of his erection settled between his muscular thighs. grabbing you by your ankles, he pulls your folds towards the tip of his cock, licking his lips at the sight before slowly impaling you with his manhood.

you take him in (feeling every inch of him as you felt the outline of his dick against your abdomen), eyes nearly turning in the back of your head when he began his swift pounds inside of you. “look at you, taking me so well… like you were practically made for me.”

the reverence was clear in his voice each time he slides his cock back within your scorching heat, allowing the silky feel of your walls to stroke each and every inch of him. “ngh- fuck…” the colonel begins to whine now, gripping at both of your legs before putting them above his shoulders, practically fucking you into his bed as he subjected your body into a mating press.

“you’re mine… every part of you is mine.” your moans quickly morph into broken sobs of his name when you felt his cock reach even deeper inside of you in this position. he controls every sensation you felt, with his shaft purposely brushing against your swollen clit each time his hips collide with yours. and with a few more thrusts, you were left seeing stars as the intensity of your release takes your very breath away.

caleb begins repeating your name over and over again like a never-ending mantra, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he chased his own high. feeling his cock grow within your walls, you immediately felt caleb grasp at the back of your thighs, now forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. knowing just what he wanted, you lock your legs around him and squeeze your cunt at the same time he lost control and finally released himself. sighing at the sensation of his cum traveling in spurts deep inside of you, you arch your back and let out a content purr (the sound being reminiscent of a cat who’s had her fill of cream).

with a light sheen of sweat felt against your naked body, you lay back in bed, turning into putty after caleb had loved you oh so thoroughly this morning. trying to catch your breath, you toss an arm across your eyes, believing that you would be able to rest after such rigorous activities-

however, your colonel seems to have other ideas when he spreads your legs while settling himself between your thighs. your eyes go wide, his name coming out of your parted lips in a gasp when you suddenly felt the hot sensation of his mouth on you. his eyes were shut as you could feel every vibration caused by his groans as he worked on cleaning you, licking away the evidence of your mixed release with an eagerness that makes the heat spread across your cheeks.

yet when his tongue was felt curling against your hardened bundle of nerves, you couldn’t stop your legs from spreading further for him as your fingertips willingly delved themselves into his hair-

needless to say, neither of you managed to get out of bed that day.

end notes: hahaha don’t mind me 🫠 just… having some thoughts about caleb…

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[shirakow]

❝ 𝓗.OME SWEET HOME ! ”

caleb x fem!reader / love and deepspace .

warning(s) include: SPOILER WARNING, nsfw content, hair pulling, porn with no plot, refers to readers vagina as ‘her’, and kinda sad? idk i randomly put sad parts bc i remembered his painful signal card

note: it’s been so long since I posted and I gotta say i rlly love caleb so ofc i had to post abt him. originally i played the game bc i wanted to make my mc cute but then i saw caleb and i kinda forgot abt my mc. she looks bomb tho

“It’s like she’s welcoming me home…” Caleb grunted into your ear, his hand pressing down on the light protrusion on the pit of your tummy—evidence of how deep he is in your heat. Snug and tight around his fat cock, just the way he loved it.

Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes as your tiny hands clawed at his back, your nails often bumping against the metal plates of his bionic arm.

“C-Caleb…”

A groan from him, “Yes, pip-squeak? That you or your pussy talking to me?” He grinned from ear to ear.

You’ve never once heard him talk such vulgarities towards you, especially not to your core of all things. Though you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it the least bit attractive.

The moment you—well, he adjusted to being inside you, he ground his pelvis against the curve of your ass. Each roll of his hips causing his eyes to flutter shut as he tried his best not to cum prematurely.

He was a man, through and through, and he wasn’t just gonna let his woman go high and dry. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint you and your pretty cunt.

One, two, three teasing thrusts came from him, the next ones more subtle and shallower than the last.

It was absolute torture, he was so deep inside you yet he barely even moved an inch? Shouldn’t he be more lenient? Nicer? Has the Fleet completely changed his generosity? These questions swirled around your head like cartoon birds, eating away your brain and turning it into mush.

Even your pussy cried out for more—leaking excess juices down his cock to taint his balls. The wetness was enough to resemble the tears that flowed freely from your eyes, and it almost broke Caleb’s walls down.

Almost, but not quite.

Caleb smiled, one of mischievous intent as he cupped your cheek and cooed at your pitiful expression. “You know I hate it when you cry…” Another shallow thrust.

“What does my girl want?” He was teasing you now. He pressed his forehead against yours, merely a breaths away from your quivering lips that which he thumbed and toyed with.

“Just say the word,” he whispered under his breath, the old Caleb you knew slipping past the Colonel front he put up ever since he joined the Fleet and it brought a sense of reprieve in you even for a moment. “Fast? Hard? Slow?” With each word he uttered, he gave a brief example before stopping completely.

You arched your back, pressing your chest against his as the need inside you began to grow like the plague, begging to be cured.

Caleb gave a sharp thrust before stilling his movements once more and kept his pelvis flushed against your rear, patiently waiting for your words of encouragement.

“Come on, pip-squeak…” Caleb pressed feather light kisses on your neck, “Talk to me.” A whimper escaped your lips at his words. “I…” You started while he hummed in response, non verbally telling you to go on as his bionic arm trailed down your sweaty body to cup your breasts.

Tweaking and flicking your pert nipple in between his cold, metallic fingers while closely watching your expressions, hyperaware of every detail on your face. Your pores, your lashes, your glossy eyes, your flushed cheeks—Christ, he wanted to move, now.

If you don’t beg soon enough, he’s gonna take matters into his own hands and make love—no, fuck you just the way he wanted.

“Please, move… I can’t—I can’t take anymore—“ a squeal erupted from your throat the moment he pulled his hips back and thrust back inside harshly immediately after those pleas left your mouth. The wet squelch of your pussy were music to his ears as he finally took what he and most especially you wanted.

His movements never faltered, it grew more fervent if anything, as if wanting to imprint his length along your gummy walls—to get you addicted to it. Caleb doesn’t know how long he’s fantasized of being inside you, claiming your cunny and fucking it into the shape of his cock so that it would fit him and only him.

Years of fisting his own hand, imagining it was you finally coming true. He could almost cry because of it. Caleb used his free hand to wrap your legs around his hips to pull him in deeper, closer to you. He felt like he was gonna die if he doesn’t merge with you; he needed to occupy the space between the both of you. He needed to feel you.

“Hold onto me,” he rasped, sweat dripping from his forehead and onto your face: your fucked out face that he loves so much. “Don’t you dare let go until I tell you to.” His words left no room for argument, and so you did. You held onto him like it was your life’s mission.

Your hands clawed at his toned back, leaving faint crescent marks and thin red lines on his scarred skin. “Caleb, Caleb—“ you sobbed uncontrollably, the tip of his length hitting every sensitive spot in your pussy.

As if he was born to be inside of you, born to be your partner, born to be your soulmate. The thought left a bitter taste on your tongue. Soulmate.

Sensing your sudden shift in mood, Caleb furrowed his brows and buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent and cradled your head, his hips never faltering in its speed even if he sensed the doubt in your eyes.

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it.” He grunted, moving faster and harder—the head of his cock finally hitting that spongy spot deep inside of you. Your eyes flew open and instinctively scratched him harder, his name falling from your lips like a desperate prayer. “That’s it, focus on me, only me, Caleb.” He wanted to relieve you of this internal pain so only the thought of his cock was left in your pretty little head. Thoughts of how much he can make you feel good, not the latter.

He closed his eyes shut the moment your gummy walls squeezed around his shaft, as if to say he should never leave your heat, and he will gladly oblige if you told him not to.

A bubble formed at the pit of your stomach, one that was just about ready to pop. Moans reverberated around the room, paired with the sounds of your coupling and the headboard hitting the wall with every violent thrust Caleb gave you—knocking the wind out of your lungs.

Your nails continued to dig into his skin almost desperately, causing a groan to sound from Caleb. “Harder, scratch me harder…” He urged as his bionic arm left your thigh to rub at your erect pearl in fast and tight circles.

The cold metal hit your clit and you immediately choked on your moans, the feel of it sending shivers and electricity down your spine. Complying, you did as he asked of you, and scratched his skin harder. Caleb groaned and accidentally fisted your hair which he still cradled.

It was the only way he could feel you—the pain you gave him, emotionally and physically. A side effect that came with the experiments at the Fleet, and he wishes he could turn back time to the moment where everything went wrong and give you all the love you deserved. Even if it hurt, he’ll go through hell and back just to feel you on his skin once more.

“Cum for me, pip-squeak…” He huffed into your ear, “Show me just how much you missed me.” With a few more thrusts, you eventually came—squirt dripping and spraying all over your sweaty bodies.

It didn’t take long from Caleb to follow, giving a particularly harsh grind of his hips and he came deep inside of your womb, effectively filling up the void of your tummy as he collapsed on top of you. The two of you heaved for breath but you seemed the most out of it.

Caleb panted and began to pepper kisses along the skin of your neck and rubbed the back of your head as a way to apologize for pulling on your hair. “Are you okay? Did I go too hard?” He asked breathlessly and used his arms to push himself up so he wasn’t crushing you with his weight.

Caleb rested his body on his elbows as he cupped your flushed cheeks to check up on you. You gave him a faint nod and smiled, “Mhm…” You nuzzled into his palm and turned your head to gently kiss it. “I’m okay…”

He sighed in relief and nuzzled his nose against yours, “That’s good… I didn’t want to hurt you.” His lips found yours, moving it in tandem with the beating of your hearts as he remained snug in your tight heat. “That’s the last thing I wanted…” He eventually separated from the kiss and stared at you, love and affection lay bare in his eyes.

He never wanted to pull out. Was he even talking about your core anymore? Probably not. Either way, it didn’t matter. Caleb laid on his side and pulled you in close gently, not wanting to put more pressure on your sensitive pussy. His arms caged you in his embrace as he inhaled the scent of your shampoo and let his eyes flutter shut.

“I won’t ever leave you again…” He whispered, “I promise.”

[chosove]

*tw!!! daddy kink!!! + a lotttt of size kink stuff!!! fem bodied reader*

I know he gets such a like…almost ‘selfish lover’ rep but in my humble daddy issue biased opinion, toji would 100% talk you through it like…

Everyone already finds him so intimidating, if not from his stature and general appearance, its his gruff voice and combative personality. He doesnt even mean to do it, he just always has that trademark scowl on his face that makes people afraid to say excuse me in grocery stores :(

Not you though, you still served him with your bright smile as he checked out of the store. You asked how he was and giggled at his flirty response of ‘why, ya wanna make my day better?’. I mean…other than his kids he never had people willingly make small talk with him, let alone laugh at his old man jokes.

Godddd he just gets so flustered when you look at him with your big doe eyes and say have a fantastic day :(

Thats why when he sees you on the dating app megumi downloaded for him (against his will), he feels his heart skip a beat. I just know he’s all nervous, thinking how dirty he is as a self proclaimed ‘old man’ finding such a pretty young thing attractive- i mean you could literally be his daughter. All these worried thoughts flitted through his head while he tried to decide, not realizing his thumb was just a littttttlllleeeee too close to the screen as he accidentally matched with you.

Oh.

Oh.

I mean it was an accident for him, but was it an accident for you? It couldnt be if you were texting him already, a message reading “hey there stranger :)” popping up on his phone.

And when you liked his simple response of “Hello.”, responding with “anything i can do to make your night better, toji?”, that couldnt just be a typo or misclick, right?

You made him feel like a teenager again, the butterflies he felt only becoming more intense when you asked him to come over n’ tell you in person :( he nearly jumped out of his skin trying to get ready, hands fumbling with that pinstripe button-up he’d been saving for something special (gumi’s grad or….i guess his first date in forever). It was only at times like this he wished he had someone to call to help him chill out.

Maybe after tonight that’d be you though? He hoped so at least, and even when you pulled him into your apartment, pushing him on the couch while he stuttered about getting to know each other first, he knew you were the girl for him.

It did take a while for him to actually get up to your speed- he didnt wanna break you or anything. You were just so, so desperate for him, tugging at his shirt while you grinded your clothed cunt against his beefy thighs, filthy words coming out of your mouth only making it harder for toji to take it slow with you.

“God you’re so big toji, feel like even jus’ your fingers can split me in half.”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about you, knew you’d treat me better than all the guys my age. Ya gonna fuck me right toji? Please?”

“C’mon toji…know you wanna breed me, bet it’ll only take one time for me to give you a baby. D’you want that daddy?”

It was no later you said that word that he was picking you up, throwing you onto the tiny mattress your studio apartment held. Yeah, he definitely wasnt getting out of this alive- but neither were you judging by the way his big hands began to unbuckle his belt, unzipping the pants you so graciously left a giant wet stain on, the outline of his cock in his boxers making your mouth water.

“See what ya do to me, pretty?” His deep voice spoke, one hand giving his throbbing dick a few much-needed strokes while he stared down at you like a wolf. “Nothin’ to say anymore, hm? C’mon, i liked hearing it all.”

He hadnt even pressed himself against you before you let out a whine, his hands resting themselves on your sides already being enough to make your hips jump. If it weren’t for the fact he was now intent on hearing more of those pretty sounds from you, he’d have let out a whine himself from how soft your skin felt against his worked hands. And when he slowly pulled your panties down your thighs, clenching his jaw at the sight of strands of wetness sticking to your pussy, he nearly came in his pants.

“Poor girl, bet this sweet pussy hasnt been treated right in forever hm?” The question nearly brought tears to your eyes, both from the truth of it and from the fact he began to thumb at your glistening cunt, the rough pad of his finger being the exact pressure you needed on your pulsing bundle of nerves. “T-toji i might cum alr-”you began, but you werent able to get your sentence out before his hand came down to slap against your cunt.

“What happened to my good girl from earlier? Y’know not to call me toji, little bird. Whats my name?” He whispered against the shell of your ear, fingers covered in your wetness now coming to play with your hard nipples.

Clinging to his shaggy hair like it was your lifeline, you nearly cried out as you came undone for him, the desperate moan of ‘thank you daddy’ falling from your lips. He smiled as you writhed below him, your body convulsing while he let you ride what would be the first of many orgasms that night.

[flamewarrior11]

I was summoned to the chamber of the Supreme god, I was intrigued as to why they would summon me, I figured I would understand when I got there. Upon arriving at the massive door I adjusted my outfit, despite being a god of fire, born since the beginning of my powers, I adopted outfits similar to humans, much like the other gods and goddesses in the realm, this time it was a simple dark red suit.

I entered the chamber, it was a massive room of space, the state shone brightly as I walked on a semi clear platform approaching the center of the room, there I saw the Supreme God, a being larger than all the others. Their body changing and shifting, it shines brightly as they were made up of the very stars and space they created. “Ah welcome Pyros it is good to see you” Supreme said, their voice sounding of multiple different people from earth. “The honor is mine oh Supreme God, I must ask however, why have I been summoned?” I asked, bowing before them.

“This child here” Supreme God said waving their hand as before me a young child appeared, they were small, roughly the size of a human child, they wore a grayish black dress, their hair was a bright red and yellow, much like my own. “And they are?” I asked. “A new God, born from man’s work, in a similar way to you” Supreme God said, i looked at the little girl, she was scared, and confused. “I would like you to raise them.” Supreme Then said. “Why me?” I asked. “You both have much in common, for she is the goddess of Explosions.” Supreme said. Suddenly I found myself outside their chamber, the child goddess next to me.

“So your the goddess of explosions eh? I’m Pyros, God of Flames” I said kneeling down to the kid. “I-I didn’t mean to” she said, sniffling, they sounding like small pops and crackles. “Didn’t mean to do what?” I asked. “Hurt the humans. They made explosions, and me a-and used me to hurt eachother. I-I don’t wanna be mean” she said. “Ah. I see.” I said.

It then clicked in my head why Supreme wanted me to raise the kid. We were similar in a sense. Man found fire and used it to warm themselves but eventually they used my gift to destroy and harm themselves. “Come with me” I said standing up and offering her my hand. “B-But won’t I explode?” She asked nervously looking at it. “Don’t worry kid, you’ll be fine” I said, giving her a reassuring smile. She then placed her tiny hand in mine. I held her hand softly, yet firmly as I began to lead her down the long corridors, showing her around the domain of the gods.

"See you are are rare occurrence kid, not many gods or goddesses born from the creations of mankind. Some do adopt human interpretations, like electricity, lightings been around ever since the planet earth, but they adapted how humans utilize the stuff." I explained as we arrived at a window, looking down on earth.

"But isnt electricity useful? I just destroy things" the small goddess said. "Yes, as do I, but that doesn't make us evil, none of the gods, goddesses and deities here are inherently good or evil. we all have a role to play, look" I said tapping the window, suddenly it zoomed in on the earth, showing a war, as multiple explosions were seen. I saw this scared the kid. "Some roles bad, but other roles are good" I said swiping the window as we now saw a building being destroyed via explosions.

"See they blew that old building up because it was damaged and could've hurt humans, but with careful explosions they were able to destroy it so a new one could be built' I explained. "So, not all explosions are bad?" She asked. "Nope, heck Supreme made an explosion to create everything around us, I'm honestly surprised you weren't here since the beginning, but hey you are here now" I smirked.

"But, can i make it so the humans done use explosions for bad stuff?" The young goddess asked. "No, but you can guide them to find the more enjoyable parts of the explosions. You gotta take the bad with the good, that's life, not just for humans but for us, just know to always look on the bright side." I then said showing the young goddess what humans call a fireworks display. Her eyes lit up in amazement. I smiled, seeing her timidness go away as she was in awe of what she can do.

I soon began to show her around the domain, various places and some of the others. I told her everything i could about the domain of the gods. "Since Supreme asked me to watch you and mentor you, you will be staying with me, is that okay kid?" I asked her. "Uh Sure thing Mr Pyros" She replied. "Just Pyros is fine" I said before realizing something.

"Thinking about it, you are gonna need a name" I said, carrying the little one on my shoulders. "What do you mean Pyros?" She asked. "Well that, see I have a name the others call me, Pyros, but in some religions I am Nyambe, Ra, Ogun, Zhurong, Helios and many more, every fire god and deity in human religion, I am them, to the humans." I explained. "Do humans have an explosion goddess?" The young one asked. "Not that I am aware of, don't worry I'm sure you can get a name or two from them, but for now how about Powder?" I suggested.

"Why powder?" she asked. "Like gun powder, the first explosion man made." I explained. "Oh, how do you know that?" She asked

I gave her a hearty chuckle. "I'm the god of flames, I was pretty much there when they first tested gunpowder, that's why Supreme wants me to teach ya, heck if ya think about it, you are kinda like a daughter to me, or something, I dunno if it works that way" "Hm, okie! I am Powder goddess of Explosions!" She cried out triumphantly. I smirked and began to take her to my home. "Hm hey Pyros Can I change my outfit?" Powder asked. "Of course, our forms are simply based off of how we imagine ourselves, if that makes sense, watch" I said placing Powder down. My suit soon became fire as it turned into a red leather jacket and jeans. "Ooooh! Lemme try!" She said focusing, suddenly she exploded.

"POWDER!" I yelled out as the smoke cleared she stood there unharmed, her once greyish black dress was now a dark blue pair of an overall skirt with bursts of color on it, and a black shirt under it, her hair done up in a pony tail looking like the wick of a firework as a hairclip that looked like a cartoonish bomb was seen. She also had the biggest grin on her face. Soon we both laughed as i ruffled her hair chuckling "Do not do that again ya little firecracker" I smirked. "heheh no promises" She said giving a giggle that a human would call a gremlin laugh. I could tell, things will be interesting having her around. "So the bomb hair clip?" I asked. "Well, you said I should accept the bad of my powers too, I kinda figured this would be a good step" She said. "Good thinkin kiddo" I smirked

We continued our way to home, and I knew this would be the start of a good mentorship.

"Oh! Probably should mention my wife huh" "whos your wife Pyros?"

As the God of Fire, the Supreme God has tasked you to supervise and educate a newly manifested Goddess. You find a sad, terrified, and confused child, fearful of her powers and the destruction it caused the mortal realm. You are to guide a being born from Man's work, The Goddess of Explosions.

[sincerelykimii]

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐲𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞���� 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚, 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚 𝐡𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐯, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐞𝐭𝐜) 𝐥𝐦𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝟏𝟖+

𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐜𝐞.

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

Stomping through the snowy path, towards the Hydra base alongside Steve Rogers. You hated this man. You truly did. You hated how much you were drawn to him. You hated how much he got under your skin. You especially hated how much you, didn’t hate him. Tony assigned both of you to go on the mission together, it was no doubt you guys worked perfectly together but the bickering got in between that. He always had something negative to say, “C’mon keep up, you’re slowing me down.” he says, glancing back at you. You were only a few steps behind him, despite the cold not having an affect on you, you still grew tired from walking such a long distance. “Yeah, yeah.” you mumble catching up to him. As you approached the base you instantly felt something was off, the air seemed to freeze completely around the both of you. The sound of wind hushing stopped, an ambush. “Steve…wait.” you whisper.

Steve stops abruptly, his senses on high alert as he scans their surroundings. He can feel it too, an eerie silence that doesn't sit right. As he turns to look at you, his expression is serious. "What is it?" he asks quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

The soft crunching of snow made your body tense up, your eyes meet his with urgency, “We have to go back, this doesn’t feel right.” You say keeping your voice hushed. You can feel the shift in movement around you, making your head spin in different directions. Steve's instincts kick in, mirroring your unease. He slowly starts to backtrack, his hand reaching for his shield on his back. "You're right..." He whispers, his eyes darting around the frozen landscape.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them erupts. the snow explodes around you two. Ice shards fly everywhere, narrowly missing you both. Hydra soldiers emerge from hidden tunnels, surrounding you. "Dammit," Steve mutters, pulling his shield off his back. He throws it effortlessly, knocking one soldier unconscious.

Your heartbeat picks up, the two of you are no match for the amount of soldiers surrounding. “Duck.” With that you send ice shards into as many soldiers as you could before grabbing Steve’s arm, pulling him behind a bush. “We have to retreat, there’s too many of them.”

Steve follows your lead, ducking behind the bush just as a barrage of bullets whizzes by where you were standing. "You're right," he grunts, peeking through the leaves to assess the situation. The soldiers are closing in, their boots crunching on the frozen ground. You nod trying to come up with a plan to leave safely. “When I say run, sprint as fast as you can.” You whisper, he tries to argue but it’s no use.

Your eyes contort to a glowing ice blue. shit. shit. shit. Popping up from behind the bush, you manipulate the ice below the soldiers, sending ice like shards through their bodies. “Run!” Steve grabs you, sprinting as fast as he can. You arrive at an old cabin. Steve kicks open the cabin door, pulling both of you inside the darkened interior. The old smell of wood and ash hitting your senses immediately. He slams the door shut and leans against it, breathing heavily. His eyes widen as he notices your ice-blue glowing eyes fading away.

"What the hell was that back there?"

You fall onto the old sofa, chest heaving. “Saving your ass.” you breathe, still trying to catch your breath.

Steve lets out a short, incredulous chuckle despite the dire situation. He pushes off from the door and strides over to the sofa, lowering himself to sit beside you. His gaze is searching, eyebrows furrowed with concern and lingering awe from the display of your powers. "Literally,"

There’s a few moments of silence, comfortable silence at that, before you spoke up, “We can hide in here for a while then head back to the quinjet.” You say, standing up, you open the heavy curtain on the window and your jaw drops. The snow completely covered it, “no…” you mumble under your breath. You try to open the door but it’s shut closed, We’re trapped.

In an instant, he's by your side, concern etched deeply in his features. He tries to push the door open himself, his muscles flexing with effort. It doesn't budge. "Trapped," he says grimly, running a hand through his hair.

Your jaw tightens, “fucking great.” you mutter, taking a seat back on the sofa. “Is your com still working?”

"Yeah," He pats his communicator, then presses the button. "This is Rogers. Anyone read?" Static answers him. He tries again, lower voice laced with worry. "Tony? Natasha? Anyone?" Still static. He drops down on the coffee table facing you, his brows furrowed. You groan knowing you’re really trapped now. “The snow should pass over, I can try to move it but it looks like there’s a lot out there, it’ll take hours.”

Steve nods, looking grim but determined. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considers the situation. "Hours might be a problem. Those soldiers weren't far behind us, and they'll likely follow the tracks." He glances around the cabin, mentally cataloging potential weapons or defensive positions.

You nod, “I can cover our tracks, it’ll buy us some time.” Standing up from the sofa, you make your way over to the window once again. Focusing on the ice, you rise it a bit higher covering the foot prints.

Steve watches you work, impressed despite the dire circumstances. Once you've covered the tracks, he stands up and joins you by the window. He peers out into the blinding snowstorm, his breath fogging up the glass. "This storm is worse than I thought."

No shit Sherlock. “Are you cold?” you whisper, turning to look up at him. You can handle the cold, it’s practically pumping through your veins. But Steve? He can only sustain the temperature for so long.

"A little," He admits softly, his body language stiffening slightly, not wanting to show weakness. He's used to cold weather training…hell, he can sustain it for a lot longer than you probably could, but this storm is something else. He watches you, sees how unaffected you are by the temperature. "You're like a human ice cube," he jokes softly.

You smirk at his comment, giving him a playful slap to the chest before taking a seat on the sofa. “How long do you think you’ll last, till you freeze.” you ask, you meant in a joking manner but it came out a bit more serious than you intended. This is the longest conversation you and Steve had without arguing. Maybe it’s the predicament you’re currently in, not much room for arguing at the moment.

He sits down next to you, his gaze drifting to the window as he tries to estimate his endurance in this frigid environment. "A few hours." he says quietly, his breath visible in the cold air. Theres no source of heat in here, no fire, no blankets, nothing. He’ll be lucky if he can even go a few hours. He glances over at you, his expression, almost thoughtful.

You inch closer to his embrace, trying to provide some kind of warmth. “I know you would rather be anywhere but here…but this is the best option if you don’t want to freeze.” You mumble, scooting closer.

He tenses briefly, then relaxes into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you to share what little warmth he has left. He rests his chin on top of your head, inhaling the faint scent that's uniquely yours. "This is torture," he mutters softly.

You chuckle softly, “A couple hours, that’s all. Then we can get the hell out of here.” You whisper, wrapping an arm around his waist. His grip tightens slightly, pulling you even closer. He knows he should push you away, but the cold is sapping his strength and resolve. He rests his head against yours, his voice barely audible.

"And then what? Back to hating each other?"

You shrug in his arms, “That’s usually how it goes.” you mutter, You never understood why he hated you. The constant picking on you, the hushed retorts. You certainly don’t hate him, but god…does he make it hard to like him. He sighs, his breath visible in the cold air. For a moment, he's silent, mulling over your words and the irony of their situation. Here they are, stranded together in a freezing cabin, pretending to tolerate each other for survival.

An hour or so passes and you practically can feel Steve shaking in your arms. “Steve, you okay?” you whisper, looking up at him. His lip is quivering ever so slightly, and his face is flushed.

He looks down at you, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. "F-fine," he stutters, trying to hide the shiver that wracks his body. He knows he's reaching his limit, the cold seeping into his bones and sapping his strength. Before you could think, you straddle his lap facing him. “Just…relax.” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace.

The heat of your body against his instantly warms him, but the gesture catches him completely off guard. He sits frozen - literally and figuratively - surprised by your sudden closeness. His hands automatically go to your waist to steady himself. "What are you doing?"

“Trying to keep you alive.” you mumble into his neck, accidentally rolling your hips against his trying to sit comfortably on his lap, not realizing exactly what you just did.

His heart hammers against his chest as he realizes the position you've put him in. His face is pressed against your neck, inhaling your scent and feeling the warmth of your body. He can feel your hips against his, and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to react. You shift uncomfortably on his lap, hips rolling against his. You would think sitting on his lap would be a bit more comfortable, it felt like sitting on a brick.

He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the uncomfortable yet strangely pleasant sensation of your hips against his. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as he struggles to maintain his composure. "Stop moving," he mutters, his voice strained.

You can feel heat rushing to your cheeks at his words. You didn’t mean to…? “Sorry.” you breathe out, your breath warm against his chilling neck. He suppresses a shudder, not from cold this time, but from the feeling of your breath so close to his sensitive neck. His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly.

"It's fine," he gruffs out, though his rigid posture suggests otherwise.

You swear you weren’t doing it on purpose, but couldn’t help shifting again, his hold around your waist getting uncomfortably tight. “You’re gonna squeeze me to death Rogers.” you mutter, rolling your hips against his once again.

His breath catches audibly in his throat at the movement, his usually controlled demeanor beginning to crack. "Would you stop-" But he can't finish the sentence, your movement has made something very evident through his layers of clothing. "Jesus Christ," he mutters under his breath. Your heart stops beating for a moment, is he seriously? “Steve.” you retort, pulling away from his neck to meet his eyes.

His eyes lock with yours, filled with an unreadable expression - a mix of anger, frustration, and something else he refuses to acknowledge. He swallows hard, his jaw clenching. "You're doing it on purpose," he accuses, his voice low and gravelly.

You scoff, resting your hand on his chest. Is he fucking serious? “I am not doing anything.” you retort back.

His hand moves from your waist to your hip, applying the slightest bit of pressure to keep you still. "Bullshit," he mutters, his face inches from yours. His chest rises and falls rapidly beneath your touch. "Do you even realize where-" But he stops himself, jaw clenched.

So much for not arguing. “Yeah? tell me what I’m doing, that’s supposedly on purpose.” Something in your tone changed, your voice was low, almost seductive. You slide your hand from his chest to the back of his neck, seeing the small hairs stand up.

His breath catches at your touch on his neck, muscles tensing. "You're- Fuck," he swears quietly, gripping your hip firmly. "You're sitting on my lap, moving around like..." He trails off, unable to finish the thought.

"You know exactly what you're doing."

Your eyes widen slightly, realizing what he’s implying. “You think I’m purposely trying to ride you or something?” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you incredulously. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to think when your hips are basically grinding against-" He stops abruptly, realizing how loud his voice has gotten. Clearing his throat, he stops noticing a smirk creep onto your lips. you’re having an effect on him, and he knows it. Your eyes glance to the very evident bulge in his pants, before meeting his eyes once again.

His eyes watch your gaze flick downwards, his jaw tightening again. "Goddammit," he mutters softly, his voice lower than before. Your smirk making him suspicious. His eyes flick down to your lips briefly. "Are you-" He swallows hard. You cut off his words, rolling your hips against his with urgency. “Oh like this?” you retort sarcastically.

His eyes snap down to where your body moves against his. "Shit," he mutters quietly, watching your hips. "That's not an answer," he grits out, trying his best to ignore the sensation between his legs. "And stop moving," he adds sharply. Despite his efforts telling you to stop, You simply nod slowing your movements, but not stopping them.

Steve's nostrils flare as he takes a shuddering breath, fists clenching at his sides. "I said stop moving," he repeats, his voice strained with barely suppressed frustration - and something else entirely. His hips involuntarily jerk upwards, betraying his body's reaction. The sudden movement, catches you off guard completely. A soft moan slipping from your lips.

He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he realizes what just happened. His eyes snap back up to meet yours, seeing the soft, needy sound that escaped your lips. His gaze locks onto yours, the air thick with tension. "Don’t," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You stop your teasing, almost embarrassed at the sound that left your lips. “Sorry.” you whisper resting both of your hands on his chest, trying to steady yourself. His muscles flex beneath your hands, chest heaving. The word "Sorry" catches in his throat as he stares at your lips again, remembering how they just forming around that delicate moan. "Just shut u-" He catches himself, jaw clenching.

"Don't stop moving."

His words throw you for a loop, your brows furrowing in response hearing his low words. You roll your hips against his slowly, the friction feeling delicious. His eyes roll back slightly, head tipping back against the wall as he lets out a shaky breath. The movement is slow, but it's enough. His hips begin to move subtly, matching your roll with his own gentle thrusts. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, head still pressed against the wall.

His whispered words are enough to send heat straight to your core. You quicken your movements, grinding harsher against his hardness. He gasps sharply, one hand flying to grip your hip as his control slips. "Fuck, wait-" But his words dissolve into a low groan as you press against him more insistently. His hips buck up involuntarily, seeking more friction, more of that delicious heat rubbing against his aching cock.

Still grinding your hips, you lower your head catching his neck, leaving soft open mouth kisses along his jaw. His hips buck up hitting your clit perfectly, making you moan softly just below his ear. He inhales sharply, his body tensing as he feels your warm breath on his neck, those soft open-mouthed kisses driving him mad. His hips surge upward again, finding that perfect spot that makes you make those tiny needy sounds.

You wanted more, fuck that. You needed more.

“Steve…”

His name on your lips, broken and desperate like that, completely shatters his remaining control. One hand moves to grip your hair at the nape of your neck, the other squeezing your hip possessively. "God, stop moaning like that..."

You smirk, kissing just below his ear, softly nipping at the sensitive skin. “S’good Steve…just like that.” you coo in his ear.

His breath catches sharply as your voice, low and breathy, tickles his ear. He swallows a groan, realizing you're purposefully teasing him with words and touches. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he pants out, one eyebrow quirked despite his desperation. Just as the words leave his lips, his hips jerk up hitting your clit deliciously once again. “yes…!” you cry out.

A shudder runs through him at your shameless moan, his resolve cracking further. "Fuck, you're sexy when you're desperate," he growls, surprising himself with the dirty talk. His hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing and guiding your hips in tighter circles against him.

Pressing a hand against his chest, halting his movements. You climb off of his lap, pulling your tights down quickly. His eyes darken at the sight, you swore he drool a little. He pulls you back on his lap, letting out a whiny moan, the thin lace of your panties being the only barrier between you two. He sucks in a sharp breath, his hands flying to your hips to pull you even closer, as if he can't get enough of the friction.

Making it apparent you couldn’t get enough, you lift your hips above his, hovering over his bulge. “Take them off.” you whisper, tilting his head up to look at you. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, filled with a heady mix of desire and surprise at your commanding tone. Without a word, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulls them down, revealing your bare, glistening core.

“You sure?”

You nod, reaching down unbuttoning his jeans. Pulling them down just enough to release his bulge evident in his boxers. “Look at you…” you whisper, breath catching at the sight. His chest heaves with heavy breaths, watching your confident movements. The way you're teasing him, handling him with such deliberate care, drives him crazy.

"Don't look at me like that..." he warns, though it comes out more like a plea than anything else. "It's making me..." His words trail off into a low groan as his cock bounces free, standing proud and hard between his thighs. He's never been so turned on in his life, and it's all because of the way you're looking at him, like he's the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Unable to hold back any further, you rub his head through your slick folds. letting out a soft moan in responce. A low, deep sound escapes his throat at the feel of your wetness against his sensitive head. His hands dig into your hips, urging you on though he knows he should probably tell you to take it slow. "Shit..." his head falls back against the wall, eyes darkening with desire.

You hum in approval before teasing his head at your entrance, The obscene sound filling the room. His abs tighten as he fights back a thrust, watching you rub his head against your entrance, making his imagination run wild with images of sliding deep inside you. His hands flex on your hips, trying not to take control. "Baby..." He warns softly.

Without warning, you sink down onto his cock. The blissful pain flowing through your core, causing a whimpered moan to slip from your lips feeling him stretch you out deliciously. You sit still on his lap, letting your body adjust to his incredible size. “My god…” you whimper softly.

His back arches slightly at the sudden tight, wet heat. "Holy..." He swallows hard, hands flying to your thighs to spread them wider. He watches where you're connected, his thick length slowly disappearing inside you. He can feel every little movement you make, your inner muscles tightening around him. Slowly, you began riding him, your body moving upward and downwards at a perfect rhythm. His breath catches in his throat as you begin moving, the sensation unbelievable as your velvety walls squeeze him tightly. He watches in awe, hands stroking up and down your thighs, before sliding around to grip your ass, encouraging your rhythm.

"Fuck... Just like that,"

You nod in approval, chest heaving. Your pace quickens slowly but surely, the sound of skin clapping against each other, wet noise, and the smell distinctly of sex filling the quiet cabin.

His eyes roll back as he loses himself in the sight and feeling of you riding him. The sound of your wet pussy squeezing his cock, the way your breasts bounce with each movement, it's all too much. He lets out a string of curses, his hips bucking up to meet your downward motion.

You tighten your hold around his shoulders, breathe warm against his neck. You kiss, bite, lick gently on the delicate skin, leaving dark marks, letting out soft moans and whimpers here and there. He groans at the feeling on his neck, his large hands gripping your ass tightly as he thrusts up into you. The combination of your soft sounds and tight pussy is driving him wild. He can feel his orgasm building, his sac tightening as he gets closer and closer. He can your walls tighten around his length, making him twitch inside of you,

“I know you’re close…let go for me sweetheart.” You whisper, your voice is low, whiny…seductive in his ear.

Your seductive words and tight walls prove too much, sending him over the edge. With a low groan that seems to rumble through his entire body, he bursts, thick ropes of cum pumping deep inside you. His grip on your ass becomes almost bruising as spikes of pleasure course through him. You’re right behind him, his hot seed painting your walls, sending you right where you craved to be. Body shaking with pleasure, as your orgasm crashes through you.

He holds you tight, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rides out his climax, filling you to the brim with his release. When he finally starts to come down, he collapses back against the sofa, you still impaled on his softening length.

You chuckle softly, through a heavy breath. “Warmer now?” you say, grinding your hips slowly, riding out your high. He chuckles back, his strong arms around your waist, his fingers splaying out on your lower stomach possessively. "Much warmer," He murmurs, his hips twitching up into you gently, not ready to slip out just yet.

Letting your body rest on his for a few moments longer, you finally lift off of his lap, his release dripping down your thigh. “Oh, fuck.” you whimper. He looks down at the evidence of their passion dripping down your thigh, his release mingling with yours. He reaches out to hook his fingers around your thigh, pulling your leg over his lap again, keeping you close. "Damn..."

“Still hate me?”

He looks up at you with a smirk, his hand slowly trailing up and down your thigh while keeping your leg draped over his lap. "Only when you're being a brat," he jokes, squeezing your thigh gently. His eyes soften as he meets your gaze, a tender look passing between you both.

You laugh softly, leaning down to catch his lips. After all of that, you couldn’t believe you didn’t kiss him sooner. He returns the kiss, his arms wrapping around you again as if he never wants to let you go. When you finally break the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, holding you close. "I think I've been an idiot," he admits softly.

“Humor me, Rogers.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "Okay, smart-ass, maybe I've been more of an idiot than usual. Thinking I could hate you, when really..." He pauses, searching your eyes. "...when really, you drive me fucking crazy." He notices the subtle furrowing your brows,a confused glint shining in your stunning eyes. He swallows hard, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he tries to put his jumbled thoughts into words. "You make me angry, you make me laugh, you make me..." He trails off, his jaw clenching briefly.

“Spit it out Steve.”

He lets out a frustrated groan, running his free hand through his hair. "What I’m trying to say is...you make me want things I shouldn't. Like this," He gestures between you two with his hand on your thigh. "I shouldn't want to kiss you every damn second." He looks at you with a conflicted expression, his blue eyes searching yours. "I shouldn't want to protect you, to make you smile, to hear your laugh... I shouldn't want to be near you all the time." He takes a deep breath, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

Your hands trail up his body, stopping to caress his jaw gently, eyes never leaving his. “Why do you?”

His eyes flutter closed briefly at your touch, leaning into your hand. When he opens them again, there's a vulnerability in his gaze that he rarely shows. "Because... because I think I'm falling for you." The words are barely a whisper, but they hang heavy in the air between you.

You crash your lips onto his, the kiss slower, messier, full of undeniable feelings. His hand moves up to grip your neck while the other pulls you closer, kissing you deeply. When you finally part, he rests his forehead against yours again, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Good, because I’ve already fallen.”

"God, you're impossible.”

[elliee3e]

thinking about lazy mornings with old man logan.

guys i promise i’m not dead . just going through a really bad writing slump but aghh hopefully i can get more stuff out soon, in the meantime have this really short fluff drabble😭

the sun’s peeking through the white, translucent curtains — casting a glow over logan’s sleeping body as you stir awake. your mind wakes up hazily and so does your body, registering the weight of your lover’s arm wrapped around your stomach.

you shift under it, earning a mumbled grunt from him, and you realize his face is buried in your hair, nuzzling your head. he’s a pretty heavy sleeper most of the time: but when it came to you shifting awake he’d start to as well.

“darlin’..” his voice was gruff, scratchy, like his typical morning voice. you rub your eyes tiredly, as the word hits your ears.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you lo. just gonna go to the bathroom.” you mumble back, your voice also a bit scratched up and tired. this earns a grumble from logan, who pulls you back down with the weight of his arm around you just as you start to tiredly sit up. “you can go after. jus’ stay a few minutes.”

you look back at him, seeing his face now pressed into the pillow your head was previously rested on. although the need to pee was starting to build up within you, you sighed and climbed back into bed, the warmth of the sheets welcoming you back in — as well as logan’s face that nuzzles into your neck, scruff rubbing against your soft skin in a way that makes it tingle.

he let out a hum, the sound rough from his throat, as he pressed his face against the warm skin there, slowly starting to wake up as well — even placing a gentle kiss on your collarbone. all the while, your hand had found it’s way to his hair, your fingers running through the grey locks, enjoying the feeling.

under the sheets too, your bodies had started to intertwine. your legs slipped between his, your bare thigh nudging his clothed one, feeling the material of the sweatpants he wore.

“don’t start, baby..” you heard him groan against your neck, and it made you chuckle as your hands stopped in his hair.

“not starting anything, lo.” you said, and it was true, as you shifted closer to him, the sheets riding down a bit on your bodies, the cool air of the room hitting you two like a breath of fresh air; meanwhile your lower bodies were still enveloped by the warmth.

he finally brought his face up from his neck after a while, looking up at you, propped up on your elbow as you continued stroking his hair, your hand then moving down to his jaw and the scruff there as he met your gaze — his eyes falling down to the smile on your lips at the way he grumbled a little at feeling your hands on his face.

“m’ supposed to be taking care of ya, dollface. not the other way around, y’know..” he grunted, but he found himself warming up to the your gentle touch.

“i know. and you’ll have the chance to, later today.” you replied, voice laced with a promise of what was to come after. ౨ৎ

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture

Here is the post that started this fic. A Batman x Invincible crossover for the usual neglected!batsis!reader, enjoy!

CW: Gore, not explicit beyond mentioning the wound and blood- but yk.

Chapter 1 >>next(tbc)

It’s weird how easily something can be taken away, in the blink of an eye, the passing of a second- a millisecond. Was it a second? Was it longer? A minute? Time slowed down so much that it was like a dream, a horrible nightmare. “It couldn’t be- it’s not real-” is all you thought as you saw the smoke of the gun, the small sparkle it made as it shot the bullet. Your terrified eyes followed it even as you knew the target, but how could you pull your eyes away?

You couldn’t. Not when it hits your mom, piercing her neck and hitting the ground behind her. You didn’t even notice as the teen who was trying to mug you ran away, just as terrified at what he had done as you. All you could see was your mom in your tiny arms, blood falling from her wound, splashing onto your tear-stained face and seeping into the cracks of your hands as you tried to put pressure on the hole, like in the movies, the movies mama always said you shouldn’t watch.

You never listened to that- maybe it’s why tonight she didn’t listen to you. You told her, begged her not to go through Crime Alley, the shadows warning you to stay on the main road, in the light, “Not through Crime Alley, never through Crime Alley” they whispered. But mama just smiled at you, caressed your worried face, and said it’ll be fine. She should have listened to you.

A warm hand touched your shoulder, squeezing softly. “-Kid?” a gruff voice, despite how soft he was trying to be, almost yelled, concern cutting clean through his blank façade. Your eyes meet his, the officer who brought you to the station, Gordon, that’s what that one policeman called him.

The older man couldn’t blame you, he wouldn’t be able to even if he tried. A kid as young as you, seeing what you saw, having to hold your mom while she died… They cleaned her blood off, out of your hair, from your face, and wrapped you in the softest, warmest blanket they could find, that’s the best they could do, the best he could do.

His lips moved, but you weren’t really listening. Sure, your eyes were on him, your body sitting on the armchair in his office, but your mind wasn’t anywhere near what was going on in the present. “-is that alright with you, hon’?” at his question you could only nod.

“That’s good. You’ll see, Bruce is a great man, he’s already adopted a son, so I’m sure he’d love you the same way. You’re his daughter- he’d be happy to know you-“Gordon started rambling and you stopped listening. He was nervous, clearly not used to dealing with traumatized kids. With time he’ll get better at that, despite his hopes of never having to deal with something like this again.

Bruce. Bruce Wayne, yes. The man you saw on TV, every time with a different woman, if not in an embarrassing situation. Yes, you remember now. They took your blood, ran it through the system. To try and find family, relatives so that you wouldn’t be sent to the overcrowded orphanage. You found it silly at the time- how could they possibly do that?

No matter. The billionaire was found to be a match, and you didn’t know how to feel. You just wanted your mami, that’s all you wanted but they wouldn’t let you see her. How could they not? She was your mami, even if she was mean sometimes, even if she forgot about you sometimes. That man was never in your life- a dad isn’t supposed to not be in your life. A father is supposed to be there to love and nurture, always, Bruce wasn’t.

The sound of Gordon’s office door opening startled you, head moving to look behind you. It wasn’t an officer, and it wasn’t Bruce. The man was too old, too skinny. He had greying hair, slicked back, and a strange mustache too. But mama always said never to say that out loud.

Gordon seemed surprised too. Alfred, Gordon called the old man, said that Bruce was preoccupied with other matters, didn’t have the time to pick you up himself. You felt critiqued under Alfred’s gaze like he was picking you apart, judging eyes catching every imperfection.

Sure, you looked more like your mom, but the policemen said that there was no way the results were wrong. They wouldn’t lie, right? These are childish thoughts, but you’ll learn later in life that everyone lies.

You were losing track of time. Trauma, Gordon called it. It must be something bad if he whispered it the way mama whispered things that you weren’t meant to hear. You don’t remember getting into a car, you don’t remember walking through the front gates of the Wayne Manor, but you remember the tight lip of Alfred as he put you in the car, the way he sat you in your room, the way he took your blood like the cops did, the warm meal.

You haven’t had a meal this good- well. You’ve never had a meal this good. But it wasn’t worth it to you, not when the bedroom was so cold, so dark, so lacking in the coziness of the little apartment you and your mama stayed in. It felt sterile, like a hospital. You didn’t even meet Bruce that night, he was your father, why wasn’t he here, comforting you as you took the pillow and covers and hid yourself against the wall, under the bed, seeking a snug, warm embrace while you cried? Where was your dad when you needed him the most?

Notes: I am surprisingly proud of this first chapter, minimal changes from the first draft, set the mood I wanted. The second chapter is in the making, I'm not quite as happy with that one but I'll get there :)

I haven't decided yet if this will be a slow burn until the Invincible part of the fic so if the next 2 chapters aren't time skips expect it to be a slow burn.

Also the gore warning will probably be a constant considering it's Invincible and my batfam is more like the movies, aka there's blood that's red not black... and joker... I doubt he won't make an appearance.

I'll also make a masterlist for no other reason than I need it to keep track of stuff :)))

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, violence, parental abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note:😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The cops wade in and out of the house as your world turns as dusky as the ocean depths. You sit at the table, staring as the smell of seasoned pork wafts in the air with the voices and the crackle of radios. Footsteps go back and forth down the hall as shadows loom over you.  

The one across from you says your name. Again. Officer Bolton has thinning gray hair but a thick mustache. You know him. He knew your dad and would stop by whenever his cruiser needed a top-up. 

“I need ya to write it down, miss,” he taps on the notepad in front of you. “Since ya can’t talk. Need a written statement anyway.” 

You blink at him. You feel sick. The smell of the cooking meat is making it worse. You frown and get up. You go to the stove and turn the dial off. It’s probably dried out anyway. 

“Miss,” Bolton calls after you. 

A sniff comes from behind you and you turn. Sy enters with another officer; Private West. He’s probably about your age. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen as many of us in one place,” West says in a tone brighter than the circumstance. 

“Well, it’s a sight to see, isn’t it? Old Don, crushed...” 

You wobble forward and latch onto the back of the chair. You can hear the impact of Sy’s fist over and over. You glance at him as his brow furrows. You just got to tell the same story he did. The one he went over before they got there. 

“It’s her daddy,” Sy says as he comes forward to help you into the chair. 

You sit and rub your throat. You don’t have much of a choice. If you tell the truth, it doesn’t get you much. Your dad is still gone. You don’t know that anyone would believe it anyway. He always told them all you were too stupid. 

“Sorry, miss,” West scratches the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean nothing.” 

You stare at the paper and pick up the pen. Your hand shakes as you hover it over the page. What happens after? What happens if you don’t listen? Will Sy hurt you too? 

You put the nib to the paper and lean forward. It’s like writing a story. You go through what he told you too. You were in the kitchen and you heard a loud noise... 

“Good girl,” Officer Bolton praises. “We just need that statement then we can go file the report. They’ll have that body down at the morgue by midnight.” 

“Awful stuff,” Sy shudders. You almost believe him. 

“Should we keep someone here?” West asks. 

“Ya think the engine’s got a mind of its own,” Bolton scoffs over the scratching of the pen. “Sy, you gon’ look after the girl? Don’t think she ever spent a night without her daddy.” 

Just like always, you’re not there. They talk about you like a thing. Like you can’t understand them. You’re just the same burden you always were. 

“Well, that’s the thing, isn’t it? Her daddy just gave us his blessing, like I was telling the Private. You know, I offered to help finish up that old Bronco so we could talk about the wedding...” 

“Blessing?” Bolton leans back and stretches his arms behind his head, “well, how about that? Syverson, you a good man. Knowing she need someone, huh?” 

“She’s a nice woman,” he puts his hand on the back of your chair. “Quiet. And she makes a hell of a dinner. Seeing as you and the boys came all the way out, I’m sure you can help out with the roast she was slavin’ over. Can’t have it goin’ to waste.” 

You put the pen down. That’s it. The lies are in ink. 

You stand up and go to the stove. This is how it will be. Same as it ever was but it’s Sy now. You open the oven door and put on the mitts to take out the pan. 

“Does smell good,” Bolton says. “My old lady always overheats the damn thing and she got not taste for flavourings.” 

“If you don’t mind,” West adds. “I usually just pop a frozen pizza in after my shift.” 

“Y’all been so good about Don and there’s lots to go around.” Sy affirms as you carve up the tender meat. Not dry at all though to you, the smell is sickening. 

“It is late, past dinner, ain’t it?” Bolton grumbles. 

“We’ll get some plates down. Least we can do is feed y’all,” Sy drawls. 

You keep your head down and obey his indirect orders. You blood is a flow of ice. You’re trembling as you scoop the gravy and potatoes over the roast.  

Your dad’s dead. It’s a startling reality that hasn’t quite sunk in. That’s not what has you unnerved. No, it’s that new truth that you’re struggling to accept. Sy. He’s not going anywhere. 

You understand now what he was asking your dad. He wants to marry you, but why? Why you? Your dad wasn’t wrong. You’re boring. You’re dull. There’s something wrong with you. So why would anyone want you when your only family could never even stand you? 

💍

When the house is quiet, you don’t know what to do. When it was you and your dad, he ignored you. It was just like being alone. But with Sy, everything is different. Nothing can be like it once was. Like it always was. 

He calls your name from down the hall. You haven’t moved from the kitchen table since you served up the roast to the men invading your home. You didn’t kill your dad but you feel like you helped. 

If you could just speak up and tell Sy to go home before everything turned bad. No, you just stood there and listened. You put your back to it all and then... 

You get up and peek around the corner. His silhouette is like a cloud of gloom at the end. You shuffle toward him, hands fold, feet heavy. He flips on the light and you squint. 

“Hey, sugar, you tired? It’s real late, isn’t it?” 

You shrug and look at your bedroom door then back to him. You flinch as his large hand lands on your shoulder. You pout up at him and hold back a quiver of fear. You can feel how easily he hurt your dad. 

“I’m gonna have a shower, wash the day off,” he says. You notice his tie is undone. “You go on and lay down. You deserve a rest.” 

You lower your chin and he catches it in his hand. You bat your lashes and stare up at him. You move your hands behind you and bunch your fingers until your nails jab your palms. He leans in as you stand rigid and terrified. 

His lips meet yours and his coarse beard tickles you. He hums as he kisses you softly. You squeeze your eyes shut as your heart thumps. You’ve never been kissed before. Never even thought of it because it was just never something that would happen to you. 

You feel as if you might tip over as he pulls away. You stay like that as his hand falls away and he clears his throat. You open your eyes and blink. 

“Was that... okay?” He drags his hand over his beard. “Ahh, probably scratchy,” he combs his finger through the hair. “I’ma get nice and fresh for ya, sugar.” 

Your lips are tingly and hot. You turn and push through your bedroom door. He’s watching you but you’re too afraid to look back. 

You close the door but don’t latch it. You don’t want to make him angry. He exhales and his weight creaks in the floor. The bathroom door clicks and the shower buzzes shortly after. 

You turn on the light and glance around. You sit at the folding table. The small beads lay in their clusters, sorted by colour, but you can’t bring yourself to put them into the grid. Your vision blurs as you languish in the aftermath. 

You should cry. Your dad is gone. You should be sad. You’re scared, you’re confused, you’re lost, but there’s nothing in your heart missing.  

The air ripples and Sy’s yawn frightens you. His shadow moves into the room behind you. He grunts as you watch his arms stretch above him in his grey silhouette. Even then, he is huge. 

“You should come to bed, sugar,” he girds as he sits and tests the frame of your bed with a bounce. “Come ‘ere.” 

You look down at your hands and splay your fingers over your legs. You slowly stand and turn to him. He tuts as you gape at his shirtless form. He wears only a pair of plaid boxers. You gulp. You’ve never seen a man like that. Through the fabric, you can’t even trace... well... 

“You can’t sleep in that, can ya?” He says. 

You peer down and up again. You jump into action and go to your dresser. You take out a loose pair of linen pants and a bulkier tee. Before he can react or you can think, you flit out. 

You lock yourself in the bathroom and change. The familiar task keeps your panic from flowing over. When you’re done, you hesitate. You gather up your clothes and face the door. You have to go back now. 

You shudder and leave the bathroom. You enter your room and go straight to the basket of dirty clothes. You drop in the day’s outfit and stay facing the corner. He coughs. 

“Turn the light off, sug.” 

You keep your gaze averted as you obey. You turn off the light and tiptoe to the bed. You linger before it. You wince as he locks onto your wrist and tugs you closer. Your knees hit the frame and you let him bring you down next to him. It’s a small bed, narrow just for him, crowded with both of you. 

He nestles you against him as you curl up on your side. He brings the blanket over both of you and hugs you snugly. He nuzzles your hair and drones in content. 

“Isn’t this nice, huh?” He asks. 

You can’t move. If you had a voice to speak, you couldn’t. You just give in to his power. That’s what always kept you safe. To appease is to survive. 

You close your eyes and he yawns again, “I’m beat too,” he rasps. “But I’ll be all too happy to wake up next to you.” 

His breath puffs into your hair and swathes your scalp in damp heat. As each intake and exhale slows and steadies, he snores like rumbling thunder. It isn’t the noise that keeps you awake though. 

The night wears on with the subtle movement of shadows through the window. You listen to the house and its creaks and cracks. Even with Sy wrapped around you, you feel alone. Desolate. You wallow with the whirling winds as they swim through the leaves. 

Morning slowly peeks over the window sill but your world is no brighter. You grow restless and squirm beneath his arm. You turn on your back as you try to peel it away. He grunts and draws his hand back, cupping your chest to your horror. 

You clasp onto his hand and he purrs, “so soft.” 

You pinch his forearm then slap his bicep. He can’t touch you like that! You didn’t say he could. His eyes snap open and he leans back against the wall with a grunt. 

“Hmph, sugar, what’s going on?” He asks groggily. 

You sit up and cross your arms over your chest. You put your chin down and scowl. He reaches for you again, this time he strokes your arm, and you swat him away. He took your dad, he made you lie, and now he’s just touching you! Kissing you! 

You turn quickly and hop off the bed. He calls your name and you wave at him dismissively. You hurry from the room without looking back. Your heart races as you listen for his pursuit. You don’t hear it, even as you get to the kitchen. 

You stop on the tile and take a breath. Coffee. You can handle that. He drinks it, just like your dad. You remember. If men are all alike, then all you need to do is cook and clean and keep to yourself. 

[ohburgee]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞

yandere!general x civilian!reader

tw: yandere themes, obsession, stalking, violence, death, murder, mentioned police brutality an: before reading the story, the place takes in a dystopian future and has this aesthetic of dieselpunk, this plot is almost a part of my upcoming fanfic story but I changed my mind. Also, I'll be a bit late to post a new story because I'm back at my school :')

"You should take a rest" you heard your boss the owner of the library "No it's fine I don't have anything to do," you said smiling at him and he sighed and smiled back.

As you finish arranging the books on the shelf cleaning the dust around and serving some customers after the long work it is finally night and you bid goodbye to your boss as you get out of the library building.

And walked through the street and a vehicle passed by as you walked and a few people also walking, while walking you noticed something on your back and you quickly turned around and saw nothing.

You shrugged yourself and thought you were just paranoid about what happened yesterday.

A guy try to kidnap you and probably going to rape you thankfully the armored guards are there and notice the taller one their leader came and bends to your height.

"Are alright my lady?" He asks his deep husky voice ringing in your ears maybe due to his armored helmet it sounds robotic.

You slowly nodded your head and he didn't back away from you, "I need words" he said his helmet staring at your face.

"Yes I'm fine just-" Before you could speak he yelled at his people to take the guy who assaulted you and he turned around to look at you.

And he noticed your wound on your right arm and he grabbed your arm and inspected the wound, "It's fine it's just not worse" you said as you took off your arm from his hand.

He insists on taking you to the medic and you give in and accept it since you don't want to take trouble from this taller armored man in front of you. He can tear you apart if you say no.

He takes you to the medic, after checking and treating your wound you're finally got out and the armored man follows behind you.

A vehicle stopped in front of you "Take this lady to her home" he said as he walked in front of you "You don't need to" "No it's for your safety please" he said and you nodded and got in the and he looked at you with admiring.

Well, that happens and now you are very aware of your surroundings and not going to let that situation happen again.

After a few minutes of walking, you reach your apartment you pass by the small shop behind you and greet the old man who is sitting on the counter and give him a piece of snack well it's a gratitude for him after he saves you from the debts.

After that you walk upstairs to your apartment unlock the door close behind then lock it, you sigh and are very tired from your work.

You lay on the sofa and take some rest not bother going to your bed you're just very tired.

...

Seeing you like it's peaceful, he didn't know how he got his attention to you, you're just a librarian who works in the library at the center of the city.

After going to the library to investigate he sees you walking around the hall with the pile books wrapped around your arms as you try to balance with your body.

He admires your beautiful delicate self walking and after talking with the owner before he gets out of the library he takes one glance at you, as you are on top of the ladder arranging the books on the shelf. and got out.

But after an hour of guarding the city with his men, he saw you struggling with the man and he quickly ran towards you and grabbed the guy he noticed your wound that made his anger rage and he wanted to rip the man's face.

He shrugged the thoughts and focused on you he would do that later, after that he took you to the medic building, and after being treated he called someone to take you home, he didn't want you to be hurt and assaulted.

After a few days, he was mindless thinking that you might get hurt again so he decided to stalk you everywhere you go and even take his men to watch over you when he was busy on his import duty.

And now he followed you as you walked through the street and you caught your attention and turned around, and he immediately lowered his head.

You turn and continue walking and he looks at you peacefully as he notices a man following you, "You are really making me worried my dove" as he gets out of the vehicle and follows the guy.

He grabbed the guy's shoulder and slammed his body to the wall as he grabbed his head with his bare hand and squeezed his eyes, he doesn't care about people who do bad things also to you, he doesn't care about slaughtering people that's his job after all.

After that he followed you through your apartment and saw you are very kind and saw you giving something to the old man in the shop, you are very perfect and that is the reason he is obsessed with your kindness.

He takes the risk and walks upstairs and now in front of your apartment room gladly he is not on his armored and on his regular uniform.

He easily opened your apartment door and slowly opened it and he got in without sound and he slowly carefully walked inside his eyes wide and mouth gasping but quickly turned into a smirk seeing you peacefully sleeping on your sofa.

He tried to make a small sound that doesn't make you wake up and he thinks you are tired from your work or maybe a sleep heavier.

He slowly approaches you sleeping on the sofa as he kneels down to see your face clearly he watches you slowly breathe and slowly humping off your chest.

You look beautiful and adorable, he wanted to see you sleeping peacefully in his bed, when after his duty and gets home, he will get this beautiful face and always admire it.

God, you look so very beautiful he can't stop thinking about that.

Imagine if you were his lover he would carry you to bed and lay you down there, the sofa is too small for you and you should be sleeping in your bed, imagine lecturing you to be organized and careful with yourself as if he was your husband telling his wife.

But that those just imagination you are not his and you are in your own freedom.

He slowly touched your hair caressing it as if he was overly obsessed with your appearance, he wanted you and he wanted you now.

He had an idea, a plan he didn't want to get you by force didn't want you to be hated by you and get crept out so he had a brilliant idea.

...

You slowly open your eyes as you slowly get up and you realize you are on your sofa, you slept here even though you have your own bed you yawn and before you can walk through your kitchen you hear a loud knock on your door. Are those officers i know they knock loudly when they come to houses.

You walk towards your door and slowly open it to see two officers in front of you, you gulp and start to feel nervous, "Is there anything you want?" you ask wanting to know why they are here.

"We have a warrant of arrest for you, Ms," one of the officers said and you began to panic as you tried to remember, that you didn't do anything wrong you avoided any legal, and issued things.

"Warrant for what? I didn't do anything" You tried to excuse yourself or try to make yourself innocent.

"For the murder of the daughter of the high lord," they said as they mentioned the name, it's your friend before but you and her never get to talk after a conflict and your eyes widened "Why me, I didn't do anything to her, I'm her friend, not an enemy" you now encourage them to believe you, before you could add more words there's a footstep coming and you saw your boss looking worried to you.

He came closer to you and took both hands to his, "I'm sorry they suspect you for her murder, since there's a footage of you" he said and that made you shocked you didn't even do it.

You were her friend before but after knowing she was one of the daughters of high lords you cut off ties with her because of her role and not wanting to be involved in politics.

You didn't argue as you and your boss went to the station to confirm everything when they showed the footage to you, you saw someone who really looked like you as the person, the impostor stab your friend your eyes widened.

"As much as this footage can take as evidence," one of the soldiers said as you looked at them with merciful eyes, "Please that's not me, that's an imposter or just have the same appearance as me, please" you try to plead but they ignore and proceed to prepare your file.

This is why you don't want to get involved in something if those merciless officers catch you, you'll never come back to your normal life as their hands around you.

One of the officers came to you and led you to the cell as you looked at your boss trying to plead but he started to tears and kept saying he couldn't do anything, he was right there's nothing can do.

As the officer pushes you inside the cell and locks it you look at them with furious and worry, you kneel down on the ground and start to cry, you can't do anything if you try again to plead they won't listen to you, you pull your knees to your chest as you hugged them.

After a while of sleeping, you fell asleep due to your tiredness and pressure also with your small cries, you didn't get to eat breakfast as they took you.

Suddenly you heard footsteps coming closer you didn't bother to look at you didn't want to waste your time and cries of plead then a voice spoke.

"Trouble my dove" You slowly looked up and saw the armored guard leader as you saw the familiar face, you quickly got up and tried to plead at him.

"Please help me, I swear that was not me, I'm innocent and no crime is involved," you said as you started to cry hoping he could listen to you, "I know you didn't do it," he said as he looked at you.

"But your friend's death won't be easy" he added as he crossed his arms to his chest "The footage is not real someone trying to frame you," he said and your eyes widened yes that's true you are very innocent, you won't do that to your friend. As you heard someone framed you as a suspect.

"Please can you convince them that I'm innocent, please I'll do anything just let me have my freedom," you said trying to plead with him to convince the officers after he heard those words his serious face turned into a smirk, and walk closer to you.

"Anything?" he asked again and you nodded you know it's stupid but your life indicates here and your freedom.

"Be my consort" he replies and you look shocked at what he said, consort as mean like a wife or lover, "I know but it's the right thing to do, you are against high roles you know how powerful they are compared to your role" he said and he was right you were just low rank.

"Becoming my companion you'll have my name and half of my power as my wife," he said as he looked at you like the only pieces of hope, you look down you don't want to be married or as much as you don't want to be in this brutal politics but your life is in danger and you need your freedom.

"And I'll help you erase you in this case I just need your acceptance" he added as he waited for your answers, you sighed in defeat your life is more important you nodded and he smiled and told you he would tell the officers.

After a minute one officer came to you and unlocked the cell you got out and saw the leader you slowly approached him, "As my consort you'll be living with me and you have to abandon your low life" he said as he put his hands to your back as he leads you out the station.

When you both out and walked towards his vehicle he stopped and looked at you as he towered to you, "Also with my protection, if anyone tries to hurt you they will face consequences," he said and you slowly nodded your head and suddenly hugged you, you don't get any action about since you are very tired and not enough energy to think.

"You're safe with me", he said as he finally held you and his face smiled in victory, his plans turned successful. He let one of the guards imposter you and kill your friend, it was actually part of the authority to kill the daughter since the father was a threat to this world, and he added you to capture it successfully.

He can now always see you and touch you, and you will be forever with him even when the truth comes out he will take you back in force, when you have his name there's no turning back, you are his and forever will be.