#Man will choose to growl instead of talking how he feels

[meangreennunseen]

Had once seen headcanon that Primarchs purr and to be honest I kinda vibe with it, but to me it's more like they emmit various animalistic sounds. They grunt, they growl, they purr, they chirp, they hiss and so on. Basically every Primarch has developed some sort of weird inhuman sound of their own to express their feelings in non verbal way and humans and Astartes around them just have to deal with it. Because Primarchs aren't human, but they very much try to imitate humans around them. Sometimes that doesn't work tho, so they imitate animals.

[kaiser1ns]

#. FOR NOW, THOUGH, HAKUNA MATATA

featuring 𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 with 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗱𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝘆𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗶

fluff + slight suggestive. it didn’t matter how close they got as teammates or how many stupid jokes he cracked, sae’s focus was always on you.

Staying over at your best friend’s place, enjoying some peace and quiet without trying to hide from the paparazzi or him opening his mouth to say something giving his manager a ton of explanation to do about his rude behavior. You had decided to shower while Sae was running some errands. The warm water cascaded over you, your muscles relaxing as steam filled the small but luxurious bathroom. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you stepped out, wet hair clinging to your shoulders. You were just about to put on a face mask to help you relax to the fullest, feeling the cold ingredients soothing your skin when the front door opening startled you.  

Sae wasn’t supposed to be back yet.  

Heart pounding, you instinctively tightened the towel around your body and peeked out of the bathroom, expecting to see him but instead, you were met with a wide grin and cat-like pink eyes—Shidou Ryusei.  

“What the—?!” you shrieked, grabbing the nearest thing at hand, which was your slipper as you threw it at him out of reflex to protect yourself from stranger danger, even though the striker was no stranger to you.

“Woah! Feisty!” Shidou laughed, dodging your attack from where you were positioned in the corridor with the nearest safe place when he was not in your vision anymore as he settled on the couch instead. “I knew Sae had good taste, but damn—"  

“GET OUT!” you screamed, retreating as fast as your bare feet could take you. Slamming the bedroom door shut, turning the lock, breathing heavily as you wrapped your arms around your body. Without wasting another second, you grabbed your phone trembling, and called Sae.

The call barely rang twice before he finally decided to answer.  

“Why are you calling me? I’m almost home—”  

“What is your little pet doing here?!” you snapped, clutching the phone as if your life depended on it and right now it did. How can he just enter like he owns the place? Most importantly what was he even doing on a random Tuesday at nine o'clock in the morning, supposedly visiting Sae’s apartment... “What are you talking about?”  

“Shidou!” you hissed. “He just walked in! Into your apartment! While I’m practically naked!” You can practically hear Sae’s sigh through the phone and what you assume were the sound of cars’ engines—he was still somewhere outside. “Don’t panic. I’ll handle it.”  

“You better,” you snapped, trying your best not to panic when another man came uninvited when all you wanted was to be alone and wait for your best friend to be back so you could spend more time together. “Because if he tries anything, I’ll do more than throw a slipper at him.”  

On the other side of the door, Shidou’s voice rang out, teasing. “You know, I can hear you. Sae never said his place came with such entertainment!”  

You hung up, swearing under your breath. Quickly grabbed one of Sae's football shirts from his drawer—it was oversized, brushing against your thighs, the soft fabric smelling faintly of him. Pairing it with a pair of shorts you had brought along, you slung the towel over your arm and took a deep breath, preparing to be met with the intruder and whatever chaos he would create this time.

When you finally opened the door, your defenses were up, expecting some obnoxious comment or teasing smirk. Instead, you found Shidou lounging comfortably on the big couch, his feet kicked up on the coffee table as he scrolled through what you assume is TikTok.

You rolled your eyes. Typical.

Choosing to ignore him, walking to the fridge, your stomach growling. Surely Sae had left something for you to eat. Except... the fridge was nearly empty. You sighed, shutting the door a little too hard. You’d trusted him to stock it, and maybe grab you something to eat since this was supposed to be your day together, but apparently, someone had other plans.

Settling for the chocolate bar you found on the counter, you opened it and perched on one of the barstools, hoping to enjoy it in peace. But even with your back to him, you could feel his gaze burning into you.

“Can you stop staring at me?” you said, not bothering to turn around and grabbing your phone to watch videos in hopes of ignoring his presence but Shidou’s voice came with that same teasing tone. “What can I say? You’re pretty. Makes me wonder how someone like you has Itoshi Sae’s attention.”

The sudden compliment caught you off guard, and your eyes widened slightly as heat crept into your cheeks. Quickly, you brushed it off. “None of your business,” you snapped, finishing the chocolate bar in a single bite.

Silence fell, broken only by the occasional sound from Shidou’s phone. You stared at the empty wrapper in your hand, wishing Sae would hurry up and get back. This day was supposed to be about you and him—just hanging out, doing whatever you wanted.

Before you could sink further into your thoughts, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside the apartment. Both of you froze, eyes snapping to the door. For a moment, you and Shidou locked gazes, silently challenging each other.

Then you both bolted toward the door.

“Move!” Shidou shouted, but you were faster, shoving him out of the way with your shoulder as you reached for the doorknob. Yanking it open you grinned up at Sae. “Welcome home, Sae~” you chirped, standing in the doorway like you just didn’t push someone visibly physically stronger than you in the wall.

The prodigy's unimpressed gaze flicked between the two of you, and you could already tell he was annoyed. “I don’t even want to know,” putting two big plastic bags on the floor and crossing his arms as he took a good look at the both of you, mostly at you and how good you looked in his jersey. It wasn’t the first time you wore his clothes, he hoped it was not the last with you smiling so innocently, stepping aside to let him in. “Oh, nothing. Just your little pet causing trouble, as usual.”

Behind you, Shidou groaned dramatically from where he’d stumbled, rubbing his shoulder. “She fights dirty, Sae. You should’ve warned me.”

“Save it,” the midfielder cut him off, already rubbing his temples like he regretted ever leaving you two alone when he didn’t know himself what Shidou was doing here but he would let it slide this time, he was not that annoying.

After Sae’s exasperated interrogation and a grudging apology from Shidou for barging in, the three of you settled in for lunch. It wasn’t anything fancy, he had picked up takeout on his way back and got your favorite dish. He just knows you so well. Eventually, after hours of doing nothing—more like not trying to get into another competition with Shidou for Sae’s attention when you lost only once when they talked about their teammates in the U-20, you enjoyed the gossip nevertheless.

Actually, Shidou isn't that bad, he is just another lost soul who seeks someone to understand him, but he couldn't get that understanding from you, especially not today when he decided to be a pain in the ass interrupting your alone time with the boy you had hearteyes for and it’s getting late, the perfect time for the three of you to settle on the couch and relax. No more competitions, no more talking back when you somehow convinced them to watch The Lion King.

You’d started it last night with Sae, cuddled up together under a blanket as you gently played with his hair. He’d fallen asleep right around Hakuna Matata, his bangs brushing against your fingers as you toyed with them. Now, as the opening notes of the song played again, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. His maroon hair was back to its usual styled look, held in place with hairspray, but you could still feel the softness from the night before.  

You nudged Sae’s side, making a subtle hint for his attention. He raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t say anything when you leaned your head against his shoulder. Your hand found his, your fingers brushing against his palm until he intertwined them with yours. A small, satisfied smile crept across your face as he played with your fingers, as he always does when you want physical intimacy.  

From the other side of the couch, Shidou’s gaze didn’t miss a thing. “Aw, don’t leave me out,” he leaned forward, dramatically resting his head on Sae’s other shoulder.  

“Do not even think about it,” Sae deadpanned without even looking at him.  

You smirked from behind Sae, meeting a pair of pink eyes with that smug look on your beautiful face. He could read your lips clearly as you mouthed, I told you, he likes me more. Shidou rolled his eyes, leaning back into his spot on the couch. “Whatever,” he muttered under his breath, crossing his arms. “Hakuna Matata, I guess. A life with no worries.”  

As the movie progressed, you shifted positions. By the time Can You Feel the Love Tonight started playing, you were stretched across the couch, your legs stretching out to the armrest and your head resting comfortably in Sae’s lap. He ran his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle as he focused on the screen. You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat when your eyes met. His teal gaze was soft, a rare expression that he reserved for only a select few, only for you. 

The scene on the screen mirrored the moment between you two: Simba and Nala finally being together after a long separation when the lioness gave him the look. You gave Sae the exact same look, and his fingers stilled in your hair for a second before resuming their slow, soothing rhythm. Shidou’s mouth opened wide in shock, raising his eyebrows and breaking the bubble you and Sae were in.  

“Are you two together or something?” he asked, leaning forward to look at the two of you.  

You didn’t hear him, too lost in Sae’s eyes and the soft touch, however he heard him loud and clear. Without breaking eye contact with you, he replied, “No.” Short, simple, and without any more explanation. But Shidou wasn’t stupid. He could see the complexity in that “no.” It wasn’t a denial—it was a warning sign. The kind of sign that said, This isn’t your business. It wasn’t the answer he expected. He tilted his head, studying the two of you. The way Sae looked at you, the way you seemed to melt under his touch—it was more complicated than simple.

Ah, so that’s how it was. You two were playing along with this whole best friend thing, but he knew now that he’d never truly have Sae’s attention outside the football field. It didn’t matter how close they got as teammates or how many stupid jokes he cracked; Sae’s focus was always on you no matter what.  

As Simba and Nala’s romantic moment faded into the third-wheeling antics of Timon and Pumbaa, Shidou sighed. He supposed he could relate, leaning back into the couch, his gaze shifting between you. He can see what's happening and you don't have a clue. Falling in love and here is the bottom line, the duo is now down to a singleplayer. The sweet caress of twilight, there's magic everywhere, and with all this romantic atmosphere ... Disaster's in the air.

You didn’t even acknowledge him, still too focused on your childhood crush. Shidou smirked faintly to himself. Yeah, he’d get used to it eventually. “Guess that makes me Timon,” he muttered under his breath. You glanced up at him briefly, a teasing grin pulling at your lips as he sighed, slumping deeper into the couch. Maybe, just like Timon and Pumbaa eventually came around to Nala, he’d get used to you too.

For now, though, Hakuna Matata.

The movie neared its end, the final battle between Simba and Scar playing out and you had fallen asleep at some point, your head still resting comfortably in Sae’s lap. His focus is split between the movie and the steady rise and fall of your breathing. You looked so peaceful like this, and he wasn’t about to move and disturb you.  

On the other side of the couch, Shidou was anything but peaceful. He stretched, groaning as the credits began to roll, signaling maybe he should roll out too. He had been patient all day, third-wheeling like a champ, but the sight of you nestled into Sae as if you belonged there was starting to rub him the wrong way.

Suddenly, he stood, making Sae look up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Where are you going?” your best friend asked, his voice low to avoid waking you.  

“Far from the Pride Lands,” Shidou quipped, a smirk playing on his lips. He had gotten way too into the movie, and the line slipped out before he could think twice about it. He glanced at your sleeping form, tempted to throw in a teasing remark, but he held back. The last thing he wanted was to get on Sae’s nerves.  

Sae rolled his eyes, his attention drifting back to you. “Yeah, run away and never return.”  

The words were dry and pointed, but there was no harm behind them, just the usual sarcastic remark. Shidou would leave now, but this wasn’t the last time he’d invade Sae’s space. He didn’t mind the food or the movies, but the third-wheeling? That was too much to handle.

“Itoshi Sae,” he said carelessly, the lyrics coming to him easily after spending the entire day watching The Lion King trilogy, “I can’t wait to be king!”  

Sae let out a quiet, tired sigh, waving him off without so much as glancing his way. “Just go. And close the door behind you.” Shidou chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed his stuff. He didn’t need Sae to escort him to the door—he knew the way out. As he reached the hallway, he paused for a moment, looking back at the two of you.  

Finally, just the two of you. Leaning back onto the couch, his hand still gently brushing through your hair. The room was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the end credits music and your steady breathing. He glanced down at you, allowing himself to smile for the first time today, and if you ever saw him like that you would end up being more annoying than the guest that was here seconds ago.

Shidou had just stepped outside the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him as he muttered something about the Pride Lands. But halfway down the hallway, he patted his pockets and realized his phone was missing. Groaning, he turned back, muttering to himself, “Can’t even leave without forgetting something.”

As he reached for the doorknob, he paused. Why was the door unlocked?

Pushing it open, he stepped inside—and immediately froze.

There you were, sitting on Sae’s lap, your hands cradling his face as your lips moved together in a kiss that could only be described as passionate. Sae’s hand rested firmly on your legs, holding you in place as if he had no intention of letting you go. The scene was so intimate, so unexpected, that Shidou just stood there, wide-eyed, his mouth slightly open in shock, a rather pleasant shock.

The door creaked behind him, and the sound made both of you stop. Your heads snapped toward him in unison, eyes wide like you’d been caught committing a crime.

Shidou blinked, then grinned, his signature playfulness kicking in. “Holy shi—For free?”

Your face burned red as you instinctively grabbed the nearest cushion and launched it at him. “SHIDOU!” you yelled, still clinging to Sae as if letting go would somehow make the situation worse.

He ducked the flying cushion, laughing as he darted toward the coffee table to grab his phone. “Relax! I’m just here for my phone!”

“Shidou, get out!” you shouted again, angrier and annoyed because this was the second time he caught you in an unexpected situation and as he backed toward the door, phone in hand, Shidou smirked. “You know, you should really lock the door. Or were you hoping I’d come back and catch you manipulating Sae like Nala tried to do with Simba? What a woman you are…”

Your grip on Sae tightened as you glared daggers at him. “Stop staring and GET OUT!”

“Alright, alright!” Shidou raised his hands in surrender, still grinning like he’d won some kind of prize. “Lock the door next time, damnit!” he added with a laugh, finally slipping out the door.

The moment the door closed, you and Sae sat in silence, your faces still flushed. A second later, he got up and went to the door, the sound of the lock clicking echoed through the room, ensuring no further interruptions.

Outside, Shidou shook his head, chuckling to himself as he walked away. “Hakuna Matata,” he muttered. “What a wonderful phrase.”

Inside the apartment, you laughed out of pure embarrassment, burying your face in Sae’s shoulder. “I can’t believe that just happened.” He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer there's a calm surrender to the rush of the day. It's enough for him just to be with you, because he would make you feel his love tonight.

“That we got this far,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His lips met yours kissing you again, slower this time, removing any tension as you kissed him back, “Now, relax.”

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[lovifie]

Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷

It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷

Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist

W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.

You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.

So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.

You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.

There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.

You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.

“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.

The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.

Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.

The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.

Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.

With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.

What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.

The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.

A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.

You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.

You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.

“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”

“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”

He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”

“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.

The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”

“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.

He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.

“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.

You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.

Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.

You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.

“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.

He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.

Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.

He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.

It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.

His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.

He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.

He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.

It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.

His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.

You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.

You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.

Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.

You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.

“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.

“What?” You ask confused.

“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.

And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.

But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.

[thewritetofreespeech]

tags: targaryen incest [aemond/younger sister Daeron twin], fingering, masterbation, pinning (equal pinning)

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Aemond stalked back to his chamber. Still fuming from his talk with Helaena.

How dare she speak to him that way?! How could she not want vengeance after what Daemon did to her son?! How could she sit ideally while every day their doom crept closer and closer to their door?!

His eye set on the maps & plans on spread over one the tables and he flung them off with one swift swing of his arm. “Useless!” It was all useless now!

Aemond’s hands braced against the wood. Staring into the grain as if a scrying pool. Looking for answers. In truth, he was heartbroken. He knew his death was coming for him, one way or another, but to have his sister turn her back on him when they needed her most, when he needed her most, broke him.

“Brother,” Aemond turned to look at the door as his other, younger sister peaked her head in, “are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m fine.” He told her. Standing at his full height again, even as his little sister invited herself in and looked up at him. Those big, pale violets staring up at him until he eventually cracked and told her the truth. “No. It’s all gone horribly wrong. The Pretender has let the dragonseeds claim her remaining dragons. We are outnumbered. And Helaena won’t take Dreamfyre into battle.”

“Oh….” That was all his sister said at first. Seeming to process this information. “You asked Helaena and not me?”

Aemond looked at her in surprise from her comment. “Your dragon is too young. Six times younger that Dreamfyre, and just taken to wing.”

“She’s been to wing longer than Dareon’s dragon.” She snapped back at him. “And you asked him to fight!”

“Mandia,” Aemond replied in a soothing manner as he cupped his sister’s cheek, “Dareon is a young man now. It is reasonable for him to fight for his house.”

“But not women?”

“In most cases no. Women’s duties are suited to other aspects in war.”

“Yet you still asked Helaena?”

Aemond growled and pulled his hand away. Annoyed he’d been so easily circled into a corner by his own logic and irritating little sister. “I wished to spare you.”

“I do not wish to be spared.” She insisted. Her hands reaching out for Aemond’s larger one. “I wish to fight for our family too. To keep us safe. To keep you safe.” She let his hand go and dejectedly looked down at the ground. “Yet you still choose Helaena over me….”

The hand she had been holding lashed out towards his sister to pull her in close. His lips claiming hers like they had many times before. “I would never choose Helaena over you.” Aemond told her.

True, there had been a time when he had wanted his older sister for himself. Her uniqueness and sweet light was wasted on their eldest brother, as well as her common beauty. Aemond loved her, as a sister and then as more, but it was never reciprocated.

With his younger sister, it was different. She loved him. Unconditionally. She had been away with Dareon in Oldtown since a young age. The twins to be in service of his mother’s family for a time away from the capital. When she had flourished into a beautiful young woman, she returned while Dareon stayed to train as squire for Lord Hightower. All his mother’s plan to find her a suitable match from court. To strength their claim & allies for Aegon, but also set her youngest daughter up beautifully in the Realm.

What his sister had found instead was Aemond’s open, waiting arms.

“I need Dreamfyre. That’s the only reason I went to her.” He assured her. “She should fight.”

“Helaena doesn’t have it in her though.” His sister urged. Speaking the truth. “I do. Let me come with you.”

“Is that what you truly want?” He asked. Aemond pulling her close by her hip. Letting her feel, even through his leathers, how thrilled he was that she wished to be by his side. No longer rejected. Openly adored. “To come with me to crush the Pretender and their brood.”

“Yes.” Her voice sounded soft. Entranced, even. “Let me come with you. Let me be your Visenya. Your Rhaenys.”

Aemond swooped down to capture her lips again at her words. In the months since she had returned, that was all he wanted. They talked of secret plans to flee like his grandsires, and wed in secret, should his mother betroth her to another. Their bond not a chore like his brother made it seem with Helaena, but one of true love. Like their forbearers before them.

“Sit up for me.”

The princess obediently hopped up on the edge of the table. Reaching for him, even as Aemond came to her to stand between her knees. “I want to keep you safe. That’s what all this is for.” His hands slid up her skirts. Thin and pliable, as it was the middle of the night, they bunch up around her hips easily. “To keep us all safe. To build our future.” His beloved sister sighed as his hand reached between her legs. Her soft opening there, wet with desire. “Dareon will be with me soon. Do you trust your twin?”

“Yes.” His sister hissed as his fingers spread her open. “But I want to come too. Let me…Let me come with you.” Her voice stammered as his thumb brushed over her nub at the word ‘come’. His fingers continued to play with her until no words were spoken. Just his sister’s needy pants as she clung to him. And a desperate plea now & then of, “take me.”

Aemond wished that he could. Just spread her legs that much further and spear her open on the table where all his plans had been. But he couldn’t. She was still young. Her bloom only just coming upon her. And he would not sully his good sister by claiming her like a whore for his own amusement.

When he bed her, and he would soon, they would be married. She would be his wife. She would be their Queen. And all this, this work, this heartbreak, this rejection, would all be worth it.

His fingers continued to thrust into her with quick succession until her walls quivered around him in release. Aemond drew them out and licked them clean. The taste just as sweet as her disposition. “You should get back to your chambers. Before someone comes looking for you.”

“Will you take me with your to Harrenhall?” She asked again. Clinging to him.

It takes every bit of Aemond’s restraint to just sigh in the face of those bright eyes and tell her, “I will think on it.” Denying her harder than anything he had had to do in recent months.

His sister just smiled and gave him a kiss. She hopped down off the table, righted her skirts, and saw herself out. Aemond watched her go and waited until the coast was clear before opening his breeches to relieve himself across the table. Imagining her still there, under him, and his seed spilling into her instead off across the rich mahogany.

Relieved but not sated, Aemond took himself to bed for the evening. He needed his rest. There would not be many more moments for it soon. As he laid in his bed, he thought of Harrenhall. What would be waiting for him there, and what he might find.

If his death was truly waiting for him, like Helaena predicted, then he couldn’t bring their sister. Subject her to that. She would have to wait for him, and she would pout, but as long as he didn’t have to see it he could remain strong.

[lacucarachapisser]

successfully failed colin zabel x f!reader

contents : husband! colin, pregnancy announcement, silly arguments, cringe-fluff, tooth-rooting, bullying as flirting, reader being mean and so is colin prolly ooc lol and lil bit hurt-comfort.

a/n : another fluff because why not, this man is so cute and i want to spoil him. im sorry this was rushed and cliché and apologies for my broken english and any grammatical errors. 1.4k wc.

it was because of your period tracker apps says you’re late, you ended up biting your t-shirt end, struggling in the bathroom alone to see what the second test pack is gonna tell. yes, the second. you still could not believe the two strips had appeared on the first you have held on your other hand. blame the trust issues you could never overcome along with some sort of dread overwhelming anticipation that rudely kicking in. but here you are alone, accompanied by your own half naked reflection in the mirror. a slight smile occur on your lips, you held the two test packs as it was a big evidence you’d need to shown to your man. your always busy man.

colin, i’m pregnant.

it wont be an easy way to tell, as a matter of factly. gosh, you really want to surprise him with that news, but you have a situation within these past two days. the problem began when you’re craving in the middle of the night but since colin had not home yet, you texted him to get you something from your favorite japanese restaurant, but he was being careless, didn’t checked his phone so he went home with an empty hand, and those stupid thing led into a silly arguments.

“where’s my oyako-don?”

“your oya-what?”

it’s almost 10pm that night and clearly he looked so tired and absolutely exhausted, but you didn’t like how colin use his tone. you have waited him in the company of growling stomach and hoping you can enjoy ayako-don with your love one. instead, you had to swallow his irksome attitude.

“sorry, got no time to check the phone. if you’re hungry, you can eat something from the fridge. i’m tired, i need to sleep,”

“and if you’re sleepy you can always use the couch.”

defense. you can be much more annoying. of course he gets annoyed, and as much with his dismay at that time, he glared with a deep inhales and strong exhales came out from his nose.

“seriously,”

“well, i’m just saying.” you shrugged and pretended didn’t care.

he didn’t say anything as he quickly picked up the quilt you had spread on the top of the couch. he was too tired to make the conversation on. you left him, headed to the bedroom and deliberately slam the door hard so he can hear it.

and that morning, after you found out that you’re pregnant, you realize that you have to talk things out and fix your oyako-don situation. it’s colin’s day off, he probably still asleep and the thought of him still curled up in the couch while you announce the news and give him the evidence make you feel giddy.

you didn’t think much as you put your pants on, hide the test packs on your pocket, wash your hand and walk out from the bathroom to approach your man.

and there he is, curled up at the couch in front of the TV, hugging the quilt like a little kid. you admire him from afar and the stupid fight scene from yesterday suddenly come to your head. you have no idea why you can be so dramatic and moody? and not to mention —the feeling of a slight hatred while seeing his face was also there. no, you could never hate him that’s for sure. was this all happen because of the bean inside you? damn right hormones.

after some considerable thought, you ended up choose to wake him with the coffee scent. you carry those two cute mugs so that you can make him open his eyes from the smell of the coffee you have made. but before you could come closer at him, one of the mug slipped from your hand and scattered around the floor. and that’s how he woke up. never the plan. you cursed to yourself as you pick up all the pieces.

he gets up from the couch and walk towards you. you can feel it from the corner of your eyes when he gets closer to your presence. he squats in front of you when your eyes still searching the little pieces all over the floor.

“that’s your favorite mug,”

“careful,”

you didn’t mean to let your voice came out that harsh but your mouth is a beast. sometimes she acts without your consent.

“cranky,” he comments. your mood is okay when he’s quiets, but when he started saying something, you can’t help but feel lightly annoyed.

“and again someone’s gonna force me drive 3 hours straight just to get to the specific antique shop.”

you glared at him, hoping that he would shush but he scoffs and pretty sure enjoy the teasing very much.

“i can drive myself.”

“not a chance. you probably back with just one side mirror.”

you quickly get up and he follows you.

“you think you’re so funny?”

“uh-huh,” his hostile attitude emerges, you couldn’t quite withstand the tears that seems ready to spill any time.

“what’s wrong with you?” you snapped and you clearly could feel the heat of anger start creeping through your pores.

“what’s wrong with you.” yeah what is wrong with you? it’s all practically a joke. blame the hormones!

his demeanor looks amused and triumph by your reaction, he totally thinks he’s winning.

“this….” you aim the mess you have made on the floor. “i… i was planning on being nice today because i have something to tell you and i wanted to fix whatever happen between us,” you suddenly get very emotional and sentimental, you don’t even know how you should feel anyway, anger and sad taking over the happiness you have had earlier.

you pull out the two test packs from your pocket and burst in tears.

“i-i was going to surprise you..” you mumble, holding up your voice so that it wouldn’t sound too pathetic.

colin slowly takes the test packs and stare at it. he certainly feel bad to tease you in a very sunny day particularly his day off. he supposed to spend time with you doing something fun rather than arguing silly thing. however, he pulls you in his embrace as you start sobbing. see now, you’re winning.

“oh shit.. shit.. baby,” he grasps your body tight, burying your face to his chest, hand instinctively moved to the small of your back brushing it up and down. he squeezes your shoulder dearly, murmuring your name and sorry, shushing you hoping that it could stop the cries as he still stared at the test packs he held on one hand.

“look at me,” he whispered and it makes you sobbed a little harder. “come on, look at me..”

you managed to look up to see his face with tears still gather on the corner of your each eyes. he starts kissing your eyelids alternately. “oh my sweet girl, carrying my child. i’m sorry sweetie,”

an affectionate proud smile come across his lips, his hands cupping your face and the thumbs softly swipe your tears away. he gently pulling you close as his lips brushed against yours in a sweet lingering kiss. a warm presence that sent sparks of electricity flying through you, feeling loved, a heartfelt moment you needed the most.

“i am a terrible husband,”

that’s not true of course. you don’t have the energy to say something so you just shake your head slowly.

“how about we restart. lets make your plan come smooth, like i know nothing and we can create a proper memory. what do you think?”

you exhale and press your lips together. “well..”

“hm? what do you want to tell me baby?” he started his acting and it actually sounds pretty hilarious.

“i-i’m pregnant,”

he picks your body up until you can not touch the floor, spinning and twirling you around happily. your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, putting all your strength in there. his hand against your waist feel ticklish and you can’t help but giggle. “colin! there still might be piece of break somewhere here,”

but instead responding at your warning, he fondly kisses you. “i can’t believe i’m gonna be a dad. and you’d be absolute great mom.” and he kisses you one more time. gosh you are so full of love, a simple soft smile smearing your face.

“better?”

“m-hm,”

“still i like you being cranky. the c in cranky stands for cute.”

so you fulfill. what he say goes. you pull his ear and pinch it as a punishment.

“aw.. okay.. okay. sorry.”

you could have simply let it go, but it is the right time to get revenge after all his teasing.

“please,” he mutters plea. finally.

“oyako-don.”

“granted!”

this time, you put a hard kiss on his cheeks. and only then do you realize you have the absolute bestest husband.

-

-

-

another notes : thank you so very much for reading, every like reblog and comment are appreciate i can not thank you enough for that. those act itself could makes me alive and motivated so that i can write more for you, for me, for us. ((your comment and reblog actually could pay my bills im not even joking)). love yall sm.

[dokk-fukuro]

On Call. Pt.1

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya Minors DNI

TW: clit play, lingerie, sexting, dirty talk, afab reader

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

Dazai uses phone sex as one of the ways to tease you but keep you from getting what you want. Oh, this bastard has a good tongue. With absolute calmness, he can maintain a frank conversation with you for a long time period.

“I decided to find out how the day is going with the conqueror of my heart,” Osamu coos, left alone in the agency. “Just remembering how you arch your back under me last night. And your moans... Just angelic singing to my ears, and you know me, I'm picky in my choice of music.”

He knows that you are a little embarrassed by his words, but even the thoughts in your head will not allow to stop. Instead, the young man will continue to tease you.

“I can't stop thinking about how beautiful you are when you're in seventh heaven. I’d be very happy to sit you on the table now, pull off your clothes and kiss your skin,” his voice becomes a little quieter, lowers by half an octave and takes on that very seductive husky that drives you crazy. “Get down on my knees in front of you and put my face to your pussy. I bet you already imagine it. Come on, bella, let me hear how wet you are.”

And you really obediently pull off your panties, spread your legs and run your fingers along your wet cunt, collecting moisture on it, hearing a satisfied humming from the other side. Dazai is glad to hear that you are so ready for him.

“I want you to wrap your legs around me while I sink my tongue inside.” You bite your lip, drawing circles around your clit, sometimes pressing on it. “Come on, love, let me hear your voice. Like our last night when I was so deep inside you.”

And you really can't hold back a moan. The bundle of nerves only becomes more sensitive, and every touch to it makes your body shiver a little. You put inside your fingers under his languid exhalation and start to move it. You squirm and shake, when all of a sudden...

“Oh, Belladonna, I have to go now, time waits for no one,” and Osamu leaves you alone with your arousal.

۞₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪₪۞

When it comes to slutty phone calls, it's not Nakahara that starts it, it's your antics. One day, deciding to tease him, you send him a photo in the fitting room. You are wearing only a set of underwear and an innocent signature “Do you think it suits me?”. What a naughty girl are you. Chuuya takes some time to come up with the most compelling reason why he should leave the meeting room.

“What the hell are you doing?” The red-haired esper hisses through gritted teeth. No, your body does not embarrass him, he is used to your unsurpassed beauty, but the last thing he wants is for someone else to see it. You just innocently coo that you wanted to know his opinion, because “he should pull this underwear off you.”

Whatever you say, Chuuya has problems with self-control. He doesn't need too much to get turned on.

“You wanted to know my opinion, right?” Nakahara smirks unkindly, and you can feel it on your skin. Chills and a herd of goosebumps literally run through your neck. “My opinion is this: my naughty girl wants me to fuck her so that she can barely stands. Choose, doll: we’ll fuck on the table, on the couch, on the bed or on the floor? For such a trick, you will have to try very hard so that I let you cum.”

When he is on edge, you can say exactly and for sure only one thing: Chuuya doesn’t throw words into the wind. And the understanding that he may well take you from the doorway as soon as he comes home makes you bring your legs together. You are already turned on by how aggressive the redhead is in his expressions. And from his heavy breathing, only two things can be stated: he is now alone with himself, and he is trying to calm down his boner in order to recoup on you upon his return.

"So what, doll? I can't hear your answer,” Chuuya almost growls, squeezing his hard cock through the fabric of his tight pants. “Or do you want me to push you against the wall while I thrust into you from behind? The sooner you answer, the better for you.”

Looks like you're really in big trouble.

[bennettmaximoff]

It’s still insane how that side of tvdu fandom vilifies Tyler for choosing to get revenge on the man that killed his mother and friends instead of staying with Caroline, all because they needed an excuse to make Klaus look like the better choice for Care. Which is insane because he has physically harmed Caroline and almost killed her, yet somehow him doing that isn’t terrible as Tyler growling at Caroline bc she slept with the man who tortured him and again, has killed his mother…

“Tyler slut shamed her”… when all he stated was that she slept with Klaus. Even in show, they have Stefan punching him and acting as if he said something egregious [Them completely forgetting all the times they have Caroline call other female characters sluts or insinuate it, but ofc the writers and fandom have selective memory when it comes to certain characters] when Tyler had the right to be upset over his girlfriend sleeping with the man who destroyed his life.

This is the same side that calls Bonnie a terrible friend because she didn’t immediately warm up to Caroline being a vampire. Even though Caroline had literally killed an innocent person—Even though Bonnie made her a daylight ring not too long after. But this is the TVD fandom we’re talking about, so of course black and poc character’s feelings are not an importance to them. It’s interesting how they are so quick to infantilize and baby white characters, yet the black/poc chars are supposed to easily move on from their trauma, deal with it, and prioritize their white counterparts over themselves.

[chuuyaspinkmotorcycle]

Day 7: Alcohol of @/Black00Cat’s (twt) SKKtober

Dazai knows the phases of Chuuya’s alcohol intake (see: Book 7 of Dazai Osamu’s Grievances against Nakahara Chuuya) like the back of his hand.

Can picture them so clearly that it’s a movie playing in his head, each detail highlighted in his mind’s eye.

And yet he never imagined a scenario like this in all his daydreams of how to kill Chuuya.

No, no, it seems Chuuya has accepted Dazai’s proposal of double suicide in the worst way possible.

The slug? On his unknown number of glasses of wine, absolutely plastered. And Dazai? He’s feeling his soul leave his body thanks to Chuuya, who has decided his preferred seat for the evening is Dazai’s lap.

The worst part? They’re out with their coworkers, a celebration for another joint mission done well. Woohoo…

“Chibi,” Dazai hisses into Chuuya’s ear for the nth time. He’s tried pushing his dog off — did not work, earned a punch — he’s tried squeezing Chuuya enough to annoy him — did not work, the brat got even more comfortable — and now he’s been pestering him to gain his attention.

Which, for the record, has not been working, much to Dazai’s, and everyone else’s, unfortunately growing horror.

Chuuya continues to blab to Yosano and Ranpo, the only ones not in a state of shock throughout this, giving them a plethora of gossip to talk (and tease) about later.

“How much did you let him drink?” Kouyou glares at Dazai, tone telling Dazai all he needs to know about how fucked he is for this.

“Me? Ane-san’s the one that usually stops him,” Dazai argues back. He steels himself as Chuuya shifts around before deciding his shoulder is the perfect pillow. Dazai’s just praying he’ll knock out soon.

Distantly, he registers Yosano and Ranpo whispering to each other but the threat of Kouyou takes his foremost attention.

She opens her mouth to say something, likely a threat in the form of death by sword, but Atsushi speaks up, voice hesitant.

“I mean, at least he’s not hurting anyone.”

Dazai rounds on Atsushi, mouthing ‘Me! He’s hurting me!’ — specifically his pride — at the boy.

Atsushi, the traitor, merely shrugs.

Dazai’s movement from earlier had roused Chuuya off his upper body, and soon a weak punch is thrown at his shoulder with a growl.

Drastic times call for drastic measures.

Dazai never wanted it to really come to this but—

“Akutagawa-kun~” He throws his most charming (read: threatening) smile at the man.

Beside the raven-haired, Atsushi gets ready to tell Dazai off but a quiet ‘ahem’ draws his attention.

Akutagawa, with a glance at Chuuya, meets Dazai’s eyes to deliver “Unlike you, Dazai-san, I do value my life,” sealing the brunet’s fate.

All Dazai can do in his shock is mutter, “You’ve been hanging out with Atsushi-kun too much.”

Dazai chooses to ignore Atsushi’s protest of “Isn’t that our assignment?”, instead turning his attention to Kunikida—

who gives him the most adamant death stare with a shake of a head he’s ever gotten from the man.

Lovely.

“Yosano-sen—“

“The night’s still young! What do you guys say to a game~?” The doctor asks, the glint in her eye telling Dazai he is truly fucked.

“Mr. Fancy Hat~! Truth or dare?” And there’s no chance to even bribe Ranpo to help Dazai out before Chuuya is sitting up straight, determined to overcome his

“Dare.”

Maybe Dazai’s had too many to drink too because he’s unable to control his heartbeat in this moment.

“Kiss him.” Ranpo smirks.

Dazai isn’t able to protest with who exactly “him” is before lips are all over his, the taste of wine taking over all of his taste buds.

Thinking back on this night, he vaguely heard hollers and hoots and laughs. Presently, though, all he can hear is his heart in his ears as red hair takes over his vision.

He’s sure his face is red — and he really hopes he can blame it on the alcohol.

He can’t pull away — Chuuya’s making sure of that with the vice grip he has on his shoulders — and he can’t lean into it because these are his coworkers, for crying out loud.

As the need for air nears, some divine being out there must take pity on Dazai.

Chuuya pops off with a lick of his lips — that Dazai can’t help but stare at — and promptly passes out.

Dazai catches him from falling off without thinking. And before he can stop himself, he hisses out, “You’re so fucking dumb!”

The only reason he braves looking up is the stash of money that crosses the corner of his vision.

“I hate all of you.” He glares as he watches their bets pass around, Yosano and Ranpo the clear victors.

“No, you don’t,” Yosano replies back with a wink as she counts her earnings.

/No, I don’t,/ Dazai can’t help himself from thinking as his eyes wander back down to the sleeping beauty in his arms, completely out as he probably dreams about dogs, bringing a smile to Dazai’s face, even if drool is already threatening to drip onto his shoulder.

God, Dazai really is pathetically down-bad, isn’t he?

[twisted-tales-of-all]

18 AND 50 FOR YUNHO RN

with pleasure, love. Enjoy.

Summary: Y/N asks their best friend Yunho for help to destress. Pairing: Yunho x afab!reader Genre: smutty drabble, MDNI Tropes: best friend!Yunho, new-fwb!AU, non-idol!AU Word count: 903 Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), alcohol, verbal teasing, cock-riding, cum stains A/N: format change~! Although the storyteller format is dear to my heart, I’m changing to make it easier on networks to tag~

After a rough couple of weeks at work, you can finally take a much-needed break, so you call your best friend, asking if he wants to drink and hang out.

"If you bring the drinks, I'll host."

Yunho always has a way of making you choose. He always sends you money for whatever you buy, but you don't like making the decisions, so you fuss at him before ending the call and slipping into a comfortable outfit. Since you always fall asleep on his couch after these hangouts, you've learned to stop going over in jeans or uncomfortable tops.

On your way to his apartment, you pick up a couple of bottles of soju - only your favorite flavor since he forced you to choose - and some drinks to mix it into. As you reach the building, you climb the stairs quickly, far beyond ready to rest. You knock on his door and hear shuffling from within. Shortly after, the door opens, revealing the tall, fluffy-haired man in an outfit that rivals yours in comfort. You can't help but eye his grey sweatpants and wonder if he threw them on in his shuffle towards the door.

As you walk in, explaining how frustrated your work has made you, he laughs, "I'm helping you relax, then, right? So, stop thinking about work, dork."

He walks past you and grabs the bag from you, giving you a light noogie for instantly talking about stressful topics. Pouting, you sit on the couch and cross your arms over your chest. He pours drinks and joins you on the couch. Suddenly, you're acutely aware of the closeness as he readjusts into a comfortable position. Once again, your eyes linger down to his pants as you notice the movement within them.

"Come on, Y/N. You know I only want to please you. No pouting when I'm trying to help."

Sometimes, he's far too innocent to catch the words that come out of his mouth or realize how they might affect you. Under your breath, you begin to mumble about knowing the perfect way to help, but you catch yourself mid-statement and take a long swig of your drink to stop the thoughts in their tracks.

"What was that? I couldn't hear."

"Nothing, Yunho, don't worry. I was just thinking out loud."

Giving you the impression that he definitely heard, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap to look you directly in the eye to slyly ask, "You sure you don't want to tell me?"

Feeling your face warm up, you try looking anywhere other than back at him, so you bury your face in his broad shoulder, only for him to continue to tease you by whispering in your ear, "What's the perfect way, huh? I'll help."

Overwhelmed, you begin squirming in his lap to distract yourself. It even takes you a while to notice something poking your thigh from underneath you. Yunho's grip falls to your hips, pushing you down ever so slightly. An urge to grind fights its way out, causing you to mewl as you move to line his cock directly in line with your crotch.

"Do you want it?" Yunho growls, trying to restrain himself from impulsively flipping you over and plowing into you from behind.

"Please~"

The word like music in his ears, he lifts himself slightly to pull down the sweats, revealing his big cock fully. Following this, he moves your shorts and underwear to the side and lines himself up again. Looking at you, he opens his mouth to ask if you're ready, but a deep moan leaves his lips instead as you take it upon yourself to sink down onto him.

Eager to help yourself, you bounce in his lap with your hands on his shoulders for support. You quickly find exactly how to move on him to hit all the best spots. You've always known Yunho has a massive member, but you never realized just how well he could fill you up until now.

As you reach your high, you find it hard to keep moving. Luckily, Yunho notices and thrusts up into you, causing your mind to go blank as curses fall from both of your mouths as you tighten around him. Reaching your orgasm, your whole body begins to shake, and you find yourself leaning against him without the strength to stay up. Exhausted, you can't even move or react as Yunho continues, pulling out right before he hits his high as well. You feel his cum soak the bottom portion of your shirt, but you're too fucked out to care.

The next thing you know, you're waking up in Yunho's bed. As you sit up, the crusted shirt reminds you of the events of the previous night. Not finding Yunho in the room to yell at for getting your shirt all nasty, you simply remove it and grab a shirt from his closet. It engulfs you, falling off one of your shoulders slightly and covering your shorts completely, but you'd much rather it be oversized than cum-stained.

"Yunho?"

As you enter the living room, he sits up from his position on the couch to look at you. The first thing he sees is the massive shirt.

"Are you wearing my shirt?" He laughs.

"Not my fault you ruined mine."

"And what will you wear if I ruin this one, too, huh?"

[gofishygo]

hitherto ; simon 'ghost' riley x gn! reader

summary (more of a footnote but whatever) : simon 'ghost' riley with a civilian reader who loves animals heals me in some unspoken language <3

notes: mentions of past trauma (ghost), mentions of animal abuse (ghost), fluff and (maybe) hurt/comfort ?? not proofread; 639 words

He knew his footsteps would always leave a trail, no matter how lightly he treaded or how stealthy he was. He'd killed hundreds after all, all in the name of the world's safety- a legal killer, worthy of purging the unclean as classed. Not to mention the remnants of his past that always followed, violence and abuse and his family always legible in his surroundings like a ghost. He'd always wondered whether his stain had hurt the world more than healed it.

And then there was you, with your light treads and invisible presence and pretty smile. You were everything his hardships had prevented him from being- so much softer and warm and wholeheartedly loved. Always avoiding the bloodied fields of war and doing your best to slip through the world undetected. Simeon had always known that he never deserved anyone, let alone someone like you. And yet you still traced the markings on his calloused hands, talked to him with that bubbly voice of yours, held his face despite the black medical mask that would cover it. You held your world in your hands, and his world was right in front of him.

Your presence is a gentle hand to his marred and bleeding one.

But still, he can't help but glance twice at any snake he sees. His suvorexant holds him down through the nightmares instead of alleviating them. It almost feels to him like he's betraying you when he can feel his chest tighten when you scoop the stray cat up into your arms amidst the cascading rain, ignoring it's indignant hisses and the hair that now messied your formerly clean sweater. He can make the figure of his father in the darkest corners of the alleyway, mangled carrion bodies and blood in the garbage bags of the trash can.

" should put the lad back, doll. " he does his best to hide the grit in his tone.

You only reply with avid pouts of refusal. "it's pouring, si !! I'm not leaving some poor, defenceless animal in the rain !!"

His expression softens. He trusts you; he truly does. But the smell of dog blood is still cloyingly bitter in his nose, and it’s a scent that still stings at his brain.  It's too late for him to react though- you’ve already dashed off back to your shared apartment while covering the feline with your now soaked sweater. Simon follows suit without protest.

He watches as you wrap the cat in the fluffiest towel you can find, careful as to not scare the cat any further. Your gentle rubs to it's fur could never compare what he had seen in his childhood- menageries of vicious snapping teeth and growls , the smell of blood and unkempt fur. You're rummaging through the cupboards and microwaving a can of tuna, nudging it towards the creature to try soothe it's fear. Simon feel his hands start to relax, his grimace fading beneath his mask. You're nothing like that shadow of a man, nothing like Ghost or the little boy before him. You were never going to make the same mistakes, never going to end up as the same monster. A little thing clicks in him, a small shift of his aorta. You were the one he would choose to stand by his side in the old and grey.

"sim ? you've been zoning, is there something wrong ?" you're scritching the cat's head, giggling at its soft purrs as it nuzzles its head closer to your fingers. A doe eyed look of concern as you grace over his features, checking for any sign of turmoil in your boyfriend.

"nothin' to worry about, love." he wraps his arm around your shoulder as you continue to play with the cat, the movement of your muscles as you play with the cat allowing him to take a new breath. "just thinking."

[hollow-pocket]

[CW: this is a hunger kink story. contains painful hunger. character is able to eat at the end]

T//M//A fic no one from the fandom should perceive

———

Jon hummed as he marked papers. Here in this Somewhere Else, he graded stories instead of recording them.

He tapped his fingers against his desk. It was strange to be teaching, but sort of wonderful at the same time.

As he reached over to grab a pen, he felt a wave of dizziness. Concerned, he slumped back into his chair and put a hand to his head. What was that?

He took a quick assessment of his body- light headed, not bleeding, not tired— there. There was a deep ache in his stomach. He prodded it just to make sure it wasn’t an external pain, and as his fingers sunk into the flesh it twisted under them, letting out a long rumble.

Oh. He was hungry. He forgot to eat sometimes, still used to not needing real food to sustain him. Martin always made sure he was getting enough, but lately their schedules meant they weren’t eating together much, only at dinner. It was 6pm now, and Martin wasn’t back yet.

Jon’s stomach growled painfully again, and he wrapped an arm around it, pushing into the hollow organ.

When was the last time he’d eaten? Definitely not any time that day. Must have been dinner last night.

He stood up carefully, and walked slowly into the kitchen. Opening the cabinets and drawers, he found nothing quick. Martin would cook when he got home, but Jon had never been much of one.

His belly twisted unhappily, and Jon rolled his eyes. It had gone through worse than a couple missed meals. He would just wait for Martin.

He was able to continue marking papers, rubbing small circles into his stomach to try to ease the hunger pangs it was inflicting on him.

Martin got home around 7, and came to kiss him hello.

“How was your day?” Jon asked.

Martin shrugged. “Not bad. You?”

Jon gestured to his desk. “Productive.”

Martin laughed. “Aren’t you always. I was gonna make some dinner, have you eaten?”

Jon shook his head, choosing not to add that he in fact hadn’t eaten since the previous night. His stomach panged again, but stayed mercifully silent. Jon slid his hand under his shirt to rub it.

Martin walked over to the kitchen, examining the options. “Pasta or soup?” He asked.

Jon pressed a palm to his tummy, which grumbled under his hand at the mentions of food.

Damn, he was starving. “Pasta,” he said decisively. It would be much faster.

Martin looked over at him, pleasantly surprised. Jon usually refused point blank to make most decisions, and had to be coerced into voicing opinions.

Jon pressed his palm deeper into his stomach, trying to ease the gnawing hunger, and shrugged.

“Pasta it is,” Martin agreed.

Jon walked over to sit at the kitchen stools and watch him. It was also convenient in that the stools were a little too short, allowing him to rub his cramping belly in secret behind the counter. He didn’t like to worry Martin any more than necessary.

Martin chattered about his day, and Jon responded in kind, laughing at the way Martin described his colleagues and customers. He had gotten so much more animated out here, like the enthusiastic man Jon had first met in the archives.

In the joy of talking with Martin, he forgot his aching belly. Hunger did come in waves, which was why he hadn’t noticed it for so long, and the cramping feeling under his ribs seemed to be fading temporarily.

Jon relaxed more, talking about his students and the school. As Martin cooked, steam began to rise out of the pot. As it hit the air, so did the delectable smell of pasta.

It hit Jon’s nose while he was mid sentence, and a sharp pain pierced his hollow stomach. “So I said that- um-“ he trailed off as more of the smell reached him and his stomach twisted harder, making him almost double over in pain.

Martin looked over at him. “Are you alright?” He asked.

“Y-yeah,” Jon stammered, “just-” His stomach released in a rolling wave, letting out a deep groan that trailed off into a grumble and then a high pitched whine. “Hungry,” he finished, blushing and reaching back under his shirt to poke at his shrivelled belly again.

Martin stared at him, mouth open. “Was that your stomach?” He demanded, appalled. Jon nodded reluctantly. “Have you eaten today at all?”

“I forgot,” Jon said mournfully, as his stomach growled emptily again.

Martin sighed, putting the lid on the pasta to let it finish. Jon was grateful for a reprieve from the smell, but his neglected insides were well and woken up now, and would not give up so easily. They shifted under his palm.

Martin held out his arms. “C’mere.”

Jon did, sliding off the stool and walking around the counter to stand with his boyfriend. Martin manoeuvred himself so he was standing behind Jon, and wrapped his arms around him. He pushed his hands up and under Jon’s shirt, replacing Jon’s own hand in rubbing deep, placating circles into his throbbing stomach.

He pressed right where the muscles were tensing up with hunger pangs, releasing a couple more angry grumbles.

“You’re not happy Jon forgot to eat are you?” Martin asked, and Jon smothered a laugh. Of course Martin was a tummy-talker. “You’ve had to be cold and empty all day while he was working.” Martin’s fingers brushed over the concave space under Jon’s ribcage and he moaned, arching into his boyfriend’s touch. Martin moved his hand back, pressing his fingertips into the hollow pocket. Jon’s stomach clenched, then released in a loud gurgling whine of hunger.

“Is this helping?” Martin asked. “It kind of sounds like I’m making it angry.”

“Feels nice,” Jon murmured. “It’s angry at me, not you.”

Martin nodded against Jon’s shoulder, and continued to press circles into his belly. After a few minutes, he disentangled himself to get the pasta off the stove. Jon’s tummy immediately felt colder and emptier than it had before, and he went to sit down to avoid another wave of dizziness. He watched Martin plate the pasta, eagerly awaiting the warm food to fill the sore, pinched corners of his stomach.

Martin deposited a plate in front of him and motioned for him to dig in, which he did gratefully. The pasta slid into his belly easily, and it gave a last grumble at the first few bites, eagerly demanding more. Jon provided.

After a few minutes of eating ravenously and silently, he slumped back in his seat, tummy full. “Thank you,” he said to Martin, who smiled.

“Of course. I’m going to make sure you get all three meals tomorrow though.”

Jon smiled at him. “What would I do without you?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “Starve, apparently.”

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Ease

AN: Yes, I caved. I was tempted to write about Seonghwa instead, but I realised I haven't written anything for San yet, so here we are. What can I say, I am a weakling for men with children. Shoutout to Troye Sivan for the title.

Synopsis: After a particularly rough day with months of working on your latest book finally coming to an end, your husband reminds you that's he'll always be there for you. In every way he can be.

General tags: Choi San x Fem! Reader, Reader and San are married with a daughter, Writer! Reader, Househusband! San, hurt and comfort elements, fluff and mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption.

Smut tags: Switchy tendencies from both Reader and San, nipple play (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, elements of objectification (m. receiving), not a breeding kink but, San gets off (like a lot) cumming inside of Reader and creampie.

Word count: 5738

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Your apartment is silent for the most part when you slip in. You can faintly hear San in the kitchen, but there's no signs of your daughter's signature laugh and nonstop rambling filling the space of your home. The quiet reminds of you of a time that seems as though it was a lifetime ago when it was just San and you. The nostalgia causes a smile to rise to your lips as you place your bag down on the couch and journey your way into the kitchen.

Affection bubbles inside of you as San hums a tune you don't recognise while he cooks. You have no idea what he's making but, the scent invades your nostrils and your stomach growls. Not loud enough to alert him but, loud enough that you remember that the last thing you consumed was an iced coffee during lunch with your editor. Your nerves too fried to even think about eating. The meeting why you've come home so late that your daughter isn't even up to welcome you home.

You try your best to ignore the way that twists your stomach.

Perhaps it's the sheer exhaustion of the day, or the guilt, or just that you simply love your husband that prompts you to walk towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. You laugh into his shoulder when he jumps slightly, nearly dropping the pepper in his shock.

"Jesus, you scared me," he huffs, but there's no real bite in his voice. One of his hands reaching down to give your own a squeeze.

"You were too focused on your cooking I guess," you respond, feeling lighter than you have in months.

"In my defence, this is a great pasta," he retorts, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He lowers the heat before turning in your embrace. You don't know if you'll ever grow indifferent to just how stunning your husband. His dimples poking through as he smiles at you and his arms wrap around your waist.

"How'd it go?" He asks, giving you his undivided attention, and you'll never quite understand how you convinced this man to fall in love with you, marry you, and have a child with you.

You groan a little dramatically, resting your head against his shoulder. His chest vibrates with his soft chuckles, but he waits for you to respond nonetheless, "A lot better than I was expecting. Hongjoong said he was impressed with the first draft and he probably won't have to edit much. Which is great news but, fuck me that was one of the most tense meetings of my life."

"Why's that baby?" He asks, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

"I don't think I've poured this much of myself into a book ever, Sannie. God, I'm sure you know that better than anyone. I honestly don't know how I would've reacted if he didn't like it. I think I would've just broken down," you half joke.

He hums, choosing his words carefully before speaking, "I think sometimes it's easy to forget how talented you are because no one reads your work more than you. Even Hongjoong," he says with an uptick of his lips, "You're right that no one knows how much you worked on this draft more than me. Which is why I was confident it'd be received well," he says, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I'm so proud of you. I always will be."

Tears spring to your eyes completely unbidden. You clutch onto him tighter, your body seemingly determined to meld itself as close to his as possible. San, for his part, doesn't seem to mind. Holding you to his solid form just as closely.

"I love you," you whisper into him. Honestly, you don't expect him to hear you so his, "I love you too," and kiss to your forehead catch you off-guard. Fortunately his next frantic mutter of 'shit' helps to diffuse the tension. Before you can ask what's wrong, he turns away from you once more to stir the pasta. Tension leaving his shoulders when it appears to not have burned.

You take that opportunity to lift yourself up onto the counter and observe his broad back once more. "I'm surprised our little energiser bunny isn't here," you start. You know you're home later than usual but, she's typically still up by now.

He laughs at that, the sound filling the kitchen wonderfully and setting butterflies alight in your stomach, "She's come down with a bit of a cold," the news makes you frown, your grip on the counter growing harsher, "It's nothing too bad but, she has been sleeping earlier over the past few days."

God, how could you miss that? Sometimes, it still leaves you stunned that she's already two. How much more of her life are you going to miss?

"Don't do that."

Your eyes fly up to meet the back of San's head. He seems satisfied with the dish, turning off the stove and setting the pot on one of the cool plates.

"I can hear you beating yourself up from here," he says, turning to you, and it takes a tremendous amount of effort not to shy away from the knowing look on his face. "You're a great mother. I know that, and so does she. Just because you didn't catch that she caught a cold like what, three days ago? Doesn't mean anything."

The guilt still remains but, it's significantly less than it was moments ago. You'll never understand how he does that.

"Now come on, I made this kick ass pasta, and I know you're really hungry right now," he says with a smile. "Grab one of your favourite bottles. I think we've earned it."

San was right. His pasta is delicious. Which shouldn't surprise you, but when you take your first forkful, you're still left stunned. You don't remember the last time you drank something that wasn't water, coffee, or an energy drink, so the wine is a welcome change of pace. The liquid warming your blood and your face and helping you feel more relaxed than you have in ages.

San being the main reason you feel so at ease. It really has been longer than you care to think about since the two of you have had the time to just be with one another. No looming thoughts of work or cleaning or nap times. Just the two of you basking in one another's presence.

"I think I'm going to take a bath before bed," you say once the two of you start clearing your plates and glasses, the wine still lingering pleasantly in your system, "Do you want to join me?"

The look he gives you sends lightning down your spine, straight to the apex of your thighs, "Is this your way of coming onto me?" He even has the nerve to shoot you a lopsided grin over one of his stupidly broad shoulders.

"I'm not not coming onto you but, I was just offering, if you want to."

He laughs at that, "Fair enough. I think I'm going to finish cleaning up here. Feel free to go on ahead, you've more than earned it."

"I can help you, if you'd like."

San waves you off, "I've got this. Now shoo. Go soak to your heart's content with all of your fancy soaps and fragrances."

You hesitate momentarily but, San shoots you a look that leaves little room for argument. With that you, you trudge your way down the hall towards your bedroom. However, you pass your daughter's room on the way there and are unable to push down that suddenly visceral urge to see her. So, ever so slightly and as quietly as humanly possible, you take a peak.

San was right, she's out like a light. Her soft inhales and exhales and little snores filling the space of her bedroom while she clutches onto her favourite blanket. You can hear the nasally quality to her breathing, and that makes you frown, but she's resting now, and that's all you can really ask for at the moment. Just as silently, you shut her door once more. The lightness that comes with just seeing her washing over you.

With that, you continue on your way to your bedroom, smiling at your neatly made bed before stripping out of your 'work clothes.' Which feels absurd to say since your typical work attire consisted of a hoodie and sweats but, you did have an array of more official attire specifically for meetings with Hongjoong, new releases and book signings. A quiet laugh leaves you when you remember that San confessed he thinks you look hot in them once. If you didn't feel little better than a log right now, you'd fuck him while wearing them again.

Shaking those memories from your mind, you drop your clothes into the laundry hamper. You yawn a little as you walk towards the bathroom. Honestly, a warm bath before crawling into your sheets and coiling yourself around San sounds like a dream right now. Despite his dramatics, you opt for a much simpler vanilla scented bath bomb to dissolve into your water this time around. Your eyes fluttering shut, and a moan echoing throughout the bathroom when you sink into the water. The warm temperature practically making you melt as you sink lower and lower.

You might just fall asleep right here.

However, the grime of your day is still on your skin, so you grab your washcloth and begin scrubbing it away. Humming a tone you're not quite sure where you heard as you go. You're too engrossed, and your mind is a little too hazy to notice San slip into the bathroom. He simply watches you for a few moments. Taking in the way the droplets of water run down your shoulders and your melodic voice caresses his ears.

"Need any help with that?"

Embarrassment causes your face to prickle with warmth when the water around you splashes at your startled jump. San at least has the decency to stifle his laughter as he walks over to you. Look far too amused for your liking.

"Jesus San, you scared me. Give a woman a warning," you say, melting into his touch when his strong hands ease themselves onto your shoulders.

"I'm sorry, baby," he doesn't sound all that sorry, and the laughter in his voice is yet to dissipate. Any complaints you have die on your tongue when he begins to knead the stiff muscles of your shoulder. Your eyes fluttering shut and soft moans of appreciation filling the bathroom as he works every knot and ache he can get his hands on.

Stupid hot man with his pretty hands that know how to turn you into a puddle.

"I already washed up earlier but, I thought you'd appreciate a massage," he mutters quietly, drinking in the way you dissolve under his hands. All your brain can manage is a hum in appreciation and acknowledgement of his words. He smiles at that at least he knows he's doing a good job.

You're not sure how much time passes before you're blinking your eyes awake. Your fingers have turned pruney, and your upper back feels tender and looser than it has in months. It's past time to get out of the bath, you think.

"Sannie, I think I'm ready to get out now. Thank you for the massage," you mutter, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm before draining the bathtub and stepping out.

"You're welcome," San responds a little dazed and, acting as though he hasn't seen you in the nude thousands of times at this point. It does wonders for your self-esteem, however.

You suppress a laugh as you wrap your towel around your body, and the trance he was in comes to an end.

"Let's go to bed."

You opt for one of San's older, majorly oversized shirts as your choice of sleepwear for the night. It brings you back to the earlier months of your relationship when he first shyly said you could keep it. He still wore it on occasion, so his scent still lingers on it just the way you love.

For all your teasing at his expense in the bathroom, you find yourself with your tongue tied when your eyes land on his bare torso. His bottom half is not much better since he's wearing boxers that cling to his thighs in a way that causes you to swallow. Hard.

If this is his way of attempting to seduce you, it's working. Maybe a little too well.

Magically, your legs remember how to work, and you manage to walk to your bed without tripping over yourself. If San notices your odd behaviour, he doesn't say much, choosing instead wrap you up in his arms as soon as you're within reach.

Your skin burns everywhere he touches. His fingers drawing nonsensical patterns over your thigh that he's strawn over himself. Your arm naturally drapping over his broad chest. You're surrounded by him and, suddenly you wonder why sleep was on your mind in the slightest.

"It was nice getting to spend some one on one time with you," he says, his eyes swallowing you whole when he sets them on you. You'll never understand how he manages to lace the most mundane comments with so much intensity.

"Mmm, I've missed it too," you confess, and it's true. Between the chaotic nature of both of your jobs and a child to raise, you two rarely have nights such as tonight for yourselves. Perhaps it's fondness or a simple want to that drives you to press a delicate kiss to his jaw.

Your insides twist themselves into knots when San's eyes turn heavy, he searches your face for something before speaking, "Are you tired?"

His intent couldn't be more clear if he literally spelled it out for you.

"No."

His hand drifts from your thigh to cup your face. His thumb dragging itself along your bottom lip and the temptation to take it into your mouth is visceral. However, you choose to see what he does instead with baited breath. His eyes follow the trail of his thumb as though it's the most significant sight in the world. You may just lose your mind if he doesn't just kiss you.

Fortunately for you, San doesn't keep you waiting for long. He kisses you slowly, a far cry from the months of hurried, frenzied kisses before either of you have to start your day or your daughter wakes up from one of her naps. Hands snaking between thighs to make sure you're wet and he's hard enough because quickies are the majority of what you've had the time and energy for.

Tonight, however, San kisses you as though you two have all of the time in the world. His thumb tracing your jaw as his tongue licks its way into your mouth. He even has the audacity to laugh when you whimper into him because of the intrusion. His laughter doesn't last, however, a strangled groan leaving him when you lightly nip his bottom lip.

A startled gasp flies from you when he rolls you on your back. His eyes are lidded and dark with barely restrained want as he looks down at you. This time, the way he kisses you is decidedly less tender. He doesn't hesitate to practically shove his tongue down your throat.

His muscular arms cage you in and, it's difficult to tell who moans louder when his half hard cock presses against your bare pussy. "You're not wearing anything?" He mutters against your jaw, sloppily kissing any skin he can as he slowly grinds against you. It's not easy to find your words with how all encompassing he is. Your nails biting into his shoulders. God, when did he get so jacked?

"No," you moan out finally when his teeth trace your pulse point and he brushes your clit, "I'm not." Some kissing and grinding and, you can already feel yourself getting wet. It really has been longer than you care to think about.

"Oh, you wanted this then," he breathes, one of his hands dragging up your body. His hand cups one of your breasts over his shirt, his thumb dragging circles over your nipple that pokes through the fabric, and that prompts your hips to jolt up into him. A drawn out whimper of his name ringing out through your bedroom, "You could've just said so, baby. I'd happily fuck you."

Between his ministrations, words and the petname, your walls clench hard around nothing. "San," is all your brain can supply at the moment. Your back arching when he playfully pinches your nipple between his fingers.

"Poor baby," he coos into your throat between licks and kisses, "Already so worked up. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." You don't have the presence of mind to bite back a whine when he separates himself from you. The amused smirk that spreads on his face twists the knife of arousal deeply embedded in your gut. He doesn't stay away from you for long. His hands impatiently tugging your sleeping shirt over your head and, tossing it somewhere on your bedroom floor.

You rarely feel shy with San. You've never had a reason to but, sometimes, when his face softens and he looks at you like he can't quite believe you're real and naked in front of him like he is now, the urge to cover your face does crop up.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers so quietly that you almost think he didn't mean to verbalise that particular thought. His kisses along your collarbone are featherlight, barely there as he trails his way down to your breasts. Your fingers weave themselves in his hair, and your breathing grows increasingly laboured when he kisses the tops of them. His eyes find yours through the locks of his hair when he licks at your nipple slowly.

Yours nearly flutter shut. Your body instinctively pressing into him to feel more. To feel as much as you possibly can. You tug on his hair harsher than you intend to when he finally envelopes it in his warm, wet mouth. His appreciative groan going straight to your clit. No matter how many times you've been with each other, San is ever the starved man. He sucks and licks and fondled as though he might die if he doesn't have as much of you as he can. For your part, all you can do is squirm and writhe, ever tug adding to the slick smearing your inner thighs.

He leaves your breast with a pop that is louder than strictly necessary. His eyes almost appear black when the search for yours again. The glazed quality to them makes you want to rub your thighs together but, he's firmly slotted between them. He holds your gaze as he kisses down your torso. Your breath hitching when he kisses just above your swollen clit.

"You smell so good," he moans and, you finally noticing him rutting against the mattress. God, if you weren't already beyond worked up. That thought is swiftly knocked out of your when when he does take his first lick of you. It's slow and drawn out. Starting from your dribbling entrance and ending at your clit. You never stood a chance.

Something broken and animalistic bubbles out of San's chest then. His hold on your thighs firm. Keeping you exactly where and how he wants you so you can't squirm away from him. A pitchy keen echoes throughout your bedroom when he fully wraps his lips around your clit. Years of experience making him an expert at pushing you to the the edge of your sanity in a matter of mintures. You're not quite sure what to do with your hands. They're restless. Not sure whether you want to claw at the sheets or play with your breasts but, you eventually settle on familiar territory. Electing to wind them in his dark locks once again.

They tug especially hard when his fingers toy with your weeping entrance. Collecting your arousal in his fingertips and swallowly thrusting into you. You both know that's not nearly enough for you and you whine brokenly, tugging on his hair harder. Prompting a moan from him and the vibrations sending shudders from the top of your spine to your extremities.

"San please," you finally cry out, bucking your hips into his face, "Your fingers. Please, please-"

You nearly choke on your spit when he complies. Pushing two fingers into gradually until he's knuckles deep inside of you. You're beyond wet so the stretch is minimal, but there's still enough of one to prompt some whimpers from you. He distracts with that stupidly skillful mouth of his. Drawing patterns on your clit with his tongue he knows will render you devoid of thought.

Your body jerks harshly when he moves his fingers. The first curls of them inside of you are so, so good. However, when San finds the part of your walls that makes it feel as though your vision goes white for a second, that's when it's truly all over for you. He's ruthless. Rubbing against over and over and over again as his mouth does not relent in the slightest on your poor clit. Licking and sucking with one clear-cut goal in mind. If you somehow had the strength to keep your eyes open, you'd notice his eyes watching you intently. Drinking in every pinch of your brows and the way your pretty mouth is stuck in a permanent O. The ache in his jaw is nothing compared to any of that.

San is rewarded for his unrelenting consistently when your grip in his hair grows even harsher, to the point where it starts to sting but, he couldn't care less because you're cumming on his face and around his fingers. One of his hands shoots up to, unfortunately, cover your mouth because you were getting loud. He doesn't want to risk waking up your daughter, but he continues to lap at you and finger you through your release, albeit less intensely.

"San," you whine weakly against his hand when your consciousness trickles back into your body. Lightly tugging his face away from him. He whines but, otherwise doesn't put up much of a fight. Removing his hand from your mouth, he gradually removing his fingers from your walls and parting from your pussy with one final kiss.

Sometimes, in the private parts of your mind, you wonder if he'd ever let you take a picture of him like this. Eyes completely glassy with your wetness smeared across his nose, lips and chin, and a pretty flush colouring his tan skin. Without much of a second thought, you tug him towards you. The taste of yourself on his lips is a little salty, but it's not unpleasant. Maybe it's a little narcissistic to admit, but it kind of adds fuel to the fire in your core. San kisses you back fiercely as though his jaw hadn't been working for who knows how long. His erection is scorching and heavy against your thigh as he grinds against you shallowly.

Considering how distracted he is, it's easy to roll him onto his back. He blinks up at you in surprise and he just looks so cute you have to kiss him. So you do. Pressing kisses along his jaw as your fingernails drag along his muscular torso. You really don't know when he got this muscular or, how he even had the time to but, you're not complaining.

"You're so beautiful, Sannie," you whisper in his ear. Biting back a giggle when he flushes a deeper shade of pink and squirms underneath you, "Thank you," he mutters, but it's barely loud enough for you to hear. You manage somehow anyway.

The muscles in his abdomen jump when your fingers ghost over them. Now it's your turn to toy with him. Snapping the waistband of his boxers and delighting in the way it makes him grow more and more restless.

"Please touch me," he begs, and when he looks at you with his pretty, brown eyes and the pout he knows you're a weakling against, how could you ever say no?

You shuffle lower and drag his boxers off of him, he lifts his hips to help you along the way and his cock smacks against toned abdomen. Your walls instinctively clench hard at the sight of his cock, glistening with pre-cum that's streaked his stomach, before you even unceremoniously dispose of his boxers.

You straddle him. Leaning down to press a kiss to his lips again which he readily accepts, his hands gripping your hips hard enough that you wouldn't be surprised if his fingerprints were burned into your skin. The moan he let's out against your lips when your wet slit glides along his cock worsens the emptiness you feel but, it's always so enjoyable watching him lose his composure. Your nails dig into his shoulders with ever brush and bump against your clit, your hips picking their pace as you chase your own pleasure.

"Fuck," he groans out gutturally, "Stop teasing please."

"Well, what do you want, baby?" You ask with a faux confused tilt of your head, dragging your teeth along his neck as you continue to cover him in your arousal. You know you're probably going to pay for this later but, you'll have your fun for now.

"Fuck me, please" Well, when he asks so cutely, how could you ever deny him?

You pull away from him and grip him in your hand. He's even hotter in your palm, and his weight makes saliva pool in your mouth, but that can wait for another time. He's already more than slick enough for you so you decide to end both of your respective miseries and slowly sink down onto him.

It's been a week, maybe, since the last time you felt him inside of you, so the stretch this time does take you some adjusting. He's so thick, and even after so long, sometimes you need to take a second. San is patient as ever, even though his cock twitches with ever centimetre you manage to sink down on. That and the way his hold on your grows more desperate are the only indicators of his restraint, but he watches your face and body like a hawk. Making sure it's not too much for you.

You unintentionally claw at his abs when your ass final comes to rest on his firm thighs. Honestly, your body is still reeling from your orgasm and your thighs feel closer to jello, but you want to ride him for as long as you can. You crack your eyes open when the overwhelming sensation of him being sheathed inside of you mostly subsides, and the sight San creates reminds you why you wanted to do this in this first place.

His eyes already look so fucked out, he's barely keeping them open. However, they're open nonetheless, and his gaze is laser focused between your thighs. Utterly enraptured with watching himself completely inside of you. And his face contorts beautifully when you rise up before slowly sinking back down onto him.

His hands drift from your hips to hold onto your thighs when you find your rhythm. You can already feel the fatigue beginning to settle into your thighs with every bounce on his cock but, watching the way his brows pinch in pleasure and his moans caress your ears is enough to motivate you to keep going.

His can't seem to decide where to focus. They alternate between watching your face and the mirade of expressions that flit across it, watching the way your breasts bounce in time with your rhythm on him and watching the way his cock splits you open over and over again. Glistening with your wetness that trickles down him onto the sheets beneath the two of you.

Despite the tiredness creeping up on you, San feels good. Great, even, like he always does. One of the best parts of riding him is that you've mastered angling yourself just right that every brush of his cock sends your nerves alight. You thought maybe it would be too soon but, one of your hands leaves his abs to rub frantic circles into your clit. It's so difficult to focus on maintaining the pace you set, but you try. Despite your mind being hazy and desperate for the chance to cum again. Cum around him this time.

San doesn't complain in the slightest. In fact, based on the whines that hit your eardrums, the way his hands help you continue bouncing on him as best as you can and his cock twitches incessantly, he's happy to watch you and let you use him to cum again.

"Are you going to cum again for me, baby?" He breathes, focusing his attention fully on the apex of your thighs this time around. Shallowly thrusting up into you and taking in the way your fingers frantically rub your clit to bring yourself over the edge. He steadies himself when all you can respond with are nods and whimpers. Your eyes shut tightly as you focus on nothing but, your release.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans, "Using me to get yourself off. Please cum for me, baby. I want to watch you."

His words slam into you like a runaway train, and so does your oragsm. You couldn't maintain your pace on him even if you tried. Your thighs shake violently around him and the shudders spread throughout your entire body, your extremities curling into themselves. You try your best not to dig your nails into his skin too harshly but, your mind isn't all that there with you right now. Your walls clamping down like a vice around him so tightly that he can't thrust into you all that much.

Typically, San would happily let you ride out your climax. Waiting patiently, well as patiently as he can manage, for you to gather some semblance of your bearings. However, a man can only handle so much. He's just as worn thin by your lack of intimacy as you are. He knows it's no one's fault, the responsibilities of being adults and parents have just taken priority but, it hasn't been easy for him either. Feeling and drinking in the sight of you cumming for him drives him to roll you onto your back. Your hazy eyes blink up at him as you attempt to piece together what's happening.

"Do you need a minute?" He asks, well, more like pants, into your ear. He's still slotted firmly inside of and his body practically shakes with how much he's holding himself back from pumping you full of his cum right now. Your higher order functions gradually come back to you, and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you before responding, "Hm, no. I'm okay."

That's seemingly all San needs because he hooks your legs over his elbows and starts to move. Given how long he's been holding out for, it's no surprise that his thrusts are merciless from the offset. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and his heavy balls smacking your ass and, your intertwined moans ring out through your bedroom once again.

He looks so gorgeous with the way his hair sticks to his sweat forehead and his face is blissed out beyond belief. The slight burn in your thighs from the way he has you folded is worth it both because of how much he's enjoying himself and how deeply it pushes him. You doubt you can cum again so soon but, your weakly spasming walls still milk him for everything he's worth.

Based on the way his breathing increases and his grip on you is well beyond bruising coupled with his increasing moans and his precise thrusts morph into sloppy ones, he's close. The thought forces a whimper from you and your pussy clenches around him harder, "Are you going to cum for me, Sannie?" You moan directly into his ear. Your hands caressing his firm pecs and admiring them momentarily before circling his nipples. If your pussy wasn't being abused by him you'd giggle at the way he jolts, his hips jerking into you with every brush. A keen greeting your ears when you tug on them a little harder.

"I- I'm-" his words, or lack thereof, come out in a jumbled, throaty mess.

"Please? I want it so badly, baby," which isn't untrue, but you know the effect these words have on you like no other, "You're going to cum inside me, right?"

In the mess of words that you're able to register you can make out some mixture of your name, 'fuck', 'please' and 'yes' but, everything else is swallowed by his noises of pleasure as his cock throbs inside of you and ropes of his cum paint your waiting walls white. You don't think you'll ever tire of that feeling. Him pressed so close to and his lips brushing against your skin with every desperate noise that leaves his mouth while he rides out his release.

"San," you wheeze out, "San, baby, as much as I love you my thighs hurt."

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," he says, unhooking your legs from his arms, and your muscles feel significantly less strained. You know the two of you need to start cleaning up, his cum is already starting to trickle out of you, and you definitely need to pee at some point, but you're far too comfortable and relaxed to find the desire to move a millimetre right now.

"I missed this," he mutters into your shoulder, pressing sporadic kisses to whatever skin he has access to.

"I missed this too," you whisper in response, if you speak any louder part of you is worried this'll be ruined. You pull him a little tighter to you, toying with the ends of his hair.

"If I'm being honest, I'm glad you're finished with your book for many reasons," you can hear the mischievous grin in his voice clear as day, "one of them being that I can now properly fuck my wife."

"You're so ridiculous," you laugh, but you don't disagree with his sentiment.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[absurdthirst]

Bodily Exchange {Modern!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: Mafia AU, prostitution, oral sex (male receiving), derogatory language (slut/whore), biting, spitting, slapping, spanking, rough sex, anillingus, anal fingering, anal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), 69, mentions of murder, poisoning, mentions of childbirth

Comments: Pero Tovar is your father's right hand man. Tasked with babysitting you one weekend while your father is out of town, he is tempted by your attempts to get him to fuck you. He warns you that he will destroy you, but you don't care.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“That’s it….fuck….” Pero groans, fingers twists tight into the dark strands of her hair. Fisted together as he pushes her head down on his cock. “Suck it, girl, it’s what I’m paying you for.” Her lips around his cock are good, her sputtering and gagging on his length making him twitch. Ready to spill down her throat if she would just fucking suck. He’s got places to go, people to hurt but he needs to get his rocks off. He’s going to have to tell Georgina that this whore needs to be trained a little better. How are you gonna charge a hundred bucks to suck a man’s cock and you can’t get half of it down your throat? He hisses when her teeth scrape the vein, although he doesn’t yank her head back. Instead he pushes her head down even more, making her speed up her pace as she bobs on his cock. “Come on, fuck.” He grunts. “Gonna blow - fuck- blow my load down your throat.” He promises, feeling the familiar pull of his balls drawing up. A few grunted thrusts into her mouth later, Pero is cumming. Shooting ropes of cum down her throat while she tries to swallow it all and fails. Spit and cum dribbling down her chin and sliding down her skin. But she stays wrapped around his cock until he’s done, pulling out of her mouth with a soft plop. Pero reaches over for his wallet, pulling a hundred dollar bill out and tossing it to her. “Get outta here.” He orders, reaching for the cigarettes that were laying on the table and pulling out a smoke to light when his phone starts ringing. Grunting, he presses talk with the cigarette between his lips. “Tovar.” 

“Tovar.” Your father is on the other end of the phone, “I need you at my place. Come right away. No fucking stops.” He growls and hangs up the phone without saying goodbye. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your legs as you sit in your father’s office. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ll be fine by myself.” You huff, looking across the gilded office. 

“With the Lockharts on my ass, I don’t want to leave you here alone.” 

That makes you roll your eyes again, “I won’t be alone. I have an entire fucking mafia in town.” You don’t want his right hand man on your ass at all hours of the day just because your dad is going out of town.

Tovar strolls into the house an hour later like he owns the place. Perhaps it’s because he has say so over anything that happens here. Only the boss can overrule him. He’s arrogant, cocky and has one hell of a temper on him. Sniffing, he glares at the guards outside the old man’s study and nods. “Open the doors, boss wants to see me.” He demands.

The doors are opened and you look up from your phone to see Tovar walk in, his stance is cocky and you want to roll your eyes as he throws a wink at you as he stands in front of your father. “Tovar. Took your time.” Your dad huffs and Tovar shrugs, “what can I say? I needed to collect some money.” He pulls an envelope of cash out, tossing it on the wooden desk and you notice the way his knuckles are bruised. “I need to go out of town. You need to stay here. Look out for her.”

Tovar’s jaw clenches and he wants to argue, to tell the man that he’s not a fucking babysitter, but he looks over at you and sees how you are steaming where you sit your pretty privileged ass. You aren’t happy and that makes him smirk. Nodding, he agrees to the order. “Sure thing. I’ll keep the princess safe.” He promises. “Locked in her tower.”

His words make you narrow your eyes. You hate being called princess and you hate being locked in this fucking house. It’s been your life for as long as you can remember and you wish you could escape but you know you’ll be killed if you ever try to make it alone. “Charming as ever, Tovar.” You roll your eyes, recrossing your legs and you see his eyes flick down, making you smirk slightly.

It’s Tovar’s turn to smirk now. “Glad you approve, Princess.” He dismisses you with huff and turns back towards your father. “Anything I need to be on the lookout for? Any specific dangers? Because I’m not going to keep all the fucking staff on.” He hates having eyes everywhere. Not when there’s a security system that he knows covers every inch of the grounds.

“Well, the fucking Lockharts are on my ass as per usual. The motherfuckers are threatening my daughter and I won’t stand for it. They don't want me to do the deal with the Garin’s and I’ll be damned if they dictate to me. I’ll do what I fucking want. But I won’t risk her. So you’ll be watching her while I’m away.” 

You huff, standing up, “I’m not a child. I know how to protect myself. Been doing it since I could walk.”

Tovar snorts and shakes his head. “Yeah, princess? You gonna glare at them when they come to kill you? Beat them with your purse?” He chuckles. “Or maybe offer them something else?” 

Your father growls and shakes his head. “It’s Tovar’s job to keep you safe and you won’t try me, girl.” He tells you sternly.

You take one step towards your father who narrows his eyes and you retreat, huffing and crossing your arms again. “Whatever. I’ll remain here in this prison while you go do whatever the fuck you want.” You lower your arms and stride out of the room, past Tovar who winks at you and makes you scowl. 

****

Your father leaves the next day, Tovar arrives with a duffel bag and you watch as he dismisses several staff for the weekend, wanting less people around. “Less witnesses to my murder?” You tease, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“What’s the matter, princess?” He snorts. “Can’t make your own dinner or do your own laundry?” He doesn’t want people around because he doesn’t want them talking about what he does. If a man wants to bring a woman into the house and fuck her, that’s his own business. He’s not going to let you ruin his plans for the weekend.

You stare at him, hating how sexy he looks standing in the kitchen. That scar on his eye makes him look deadly and you hate that it turns you on a little to think about how he got it in a fight when he was younger. “I’m fully capable of looking after myself. Thank you very much. In fact, I prefer it. I’d give anything to be able to escape this house. I can’t even bring a boyfriend back without risking him being shot by my father or his cronies.”

“Boyfriend.” Pero scoffs and shakes his head, hating how his stomach lurches at the word. “Men aren’t boyfriends, princess.” He tells you with a smirk. “Men, real men don’t want to go on picnics or hold hands.” Stepping closer, he lifts a brow at you. “They want to fuck. Hard, and often.”

You inhale sharply as he looms over you and you shake your head at him. “Not every man is like you, Tovar. Some men are tender and kind. Some men want to nurture women, not just use their bodies. Were you like this when you arrived from Spain as an eighteen year old? Or did it develop after too many women rejected sweet, little Pero?” You coo mockingly.

He growls, reaching up and grabbing your neck, eyes flashing with anger. “Don’t test me, princess.” He warns you. “I am not your little boyfriend you can tease and push around.” He squeezes your throat slightly, satisfied when he sees your eyes widen and you nod hastily. Only then does he let go and step back.

Your cunt bottoms out as you heave a breath and you can’t believe he just did that to you. What you can’t believe even more is that you liked it. Fuck, you loved it. The look in his eyes is dangerous but you compose yourself and step towards him. “What if I want to test you?” You challenge, keeping your head held high. 

He pushes against you, his body rigid against yours but he doesn’t touch you, “don’t test me,” he repeats, “I’ll destroy you, Princess.” His words make you swallow harshly and this time, when he steps back, he leaves the room. You lick your lips, needing some water after that encounter, and you know you’re going to have fun winding Pero up this weekend.

****

Tovar sneers as he looks at his phone, debating on calling Georgina to send one of her girls over to the house. Needing to work out some of the tension that is swimming in his veins and making his cock hard. He can’t touch you, even if he could wipe that smug smirk off your face. You aren’t his to touch and your father would kill him. “Mierda.” He hisses, shoving his phone in his pocket. He doesn’t want to deal with anyone right now and it’s pissing him off. 

Your aim this weekend is to make Pero crack, use that roughness he has flowing through his veins to make you scream his name in pleasure, to - as he so eloquently put it - destroy you. You bite your lip, looking at the tiny shorts you’ve decided on to wear around the house and the bralette that covers barely anything. You wouldn’t wear this if the house was full of staff but it’s just you and Pero now. Dressing and making your way downstairs to the kitchen, you find Pero at the counter, staring at his phone, and you stride past him to open the fridge. “You want some dinner, Tovar?” You ask, pulling out the pasta sauce you made a couple of days ago without turning back to look at him.

Looking up, Tovar drops his phone, making it clatter onto the counter. “Shit!” He hisses, fumbling for it clumsily and looks up again to glare at you. “What the hell are you doing?” He demands, his eyes glued to your ass as it hangs out of your shorts and he wants to grab both cheeks and bite them.

You turn to look at him, a sweet smile on your face, “what does it look like I’m doing? Making dinner, you moron.” You roll your eyes and close the fridge, finding the spaghetti and you bend over to grab the pot from the drawer, smirking because you feel his eyes glued to you. Perfect, it’s exactly what you wanted.

Tovar growls, knowing that if he says something about what you are wearing, you will win whatever little game you are playing. He won’t let that happen. Instead he presses a button and puts the phone up to his ear. “Georgina…send two girls over to the boss’s house.” He speaks into the phone. “The one with the big tits and the nympho.” He doesn’t say goodbye, just closes the phone and leans back in his chair. “Hope you have enough, princess.” He hums. “More mouths to feed.”

You want to roll your eyes but you refrain, knowing he will win if you do that. “I can make enough food for your friends.” You offer him a sweet smile, scowling as you turn away from him. “Just don’t stain the sheets. Poor Martha has more than enough work to do than cleaning up after your whores.” You quip and turn on the stove to begin making dinner.

He rolls his eyes, annoyed that his little trick didn’t work. He hadn’t called Georgina for real, he didn’t want a white anymore. He wanted you. “Shut up, princess.” He grumbles and pushes away from the counter to go check the camera feeds.

You smirk, glad that he’s annoyed, and you continue cooking, suddenly no longer hungry now that he has whores on the way to the house. You eat alone while he “monitors the cameras” and he comes into the kitchen while you are cleaning up, his food on the side waiting for him to heat it up. “Your friends aren’t on their way?” You ask, leaning forward on the counter, your tits pushed together and you bite your lip when you notice his gaze dip down. He’s not immune to you and that’s thrilling.

“Changed my mind.” He grunts, looking back up at you. “Figured you’d be jealous if I fucked them where you could hear. The one with the big tits is a screamer.” He shrugs as if it doesn’t matter to him. “So don’t invite your ‘boyfriend’ over for some shitty sex.”

You sigh sadly, “I don’t have a boyfriend so there’s no worry about me having ‘shitty sex’.” You huff and stand up straight, turning to grab the plate of food to heat it up for him despite him being a dick. “Here’s your dinner.” You set it down on the counter for him, setting a beer down beside it. You huff, “here you go, asshole.” You are annoyed with him but fuck, that scowl has your stomach twisting with lust.

When you turn to walk away, Tovar reaches out and grabs your wrist, tugging you back to him. “Be nice, princess.” He growls. “I am not like your father’s other dogs. I will not kiss your ass and cater to you.” He knows that is why your father chose him to stay here. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone if that is what it would take to make sure that he kept you safe like he was supposed to. “Although I will spank your ass until you cannot sit if it will sweeten your tongue.”

You smirk, leaning against him as you look up at him, “promises promises, Tovar. We both know you wouldn’t dare spank me. My daddy wouldn’t approve.” You tease and Pero snorts, “your father wouldn’t approve but your daddy isn’t here, I am.” He chuckles darkly and you swallow harshly, “exactly. You don’t have the balls to follow through. You’re all mouth. I bet you can’t last more than a few minutes fucking a woman. Too self absorbed with your pleasure. Especially since you pay. Guess you can’t get it for free” You mock him, pulling your wrist away from his grip.

“I can get it for free, princess.” Tovar retorts. “I pay so I don’t have to worry about cock hungry bitches begging for me to fuck them getting in the way of my work.” He smirks as he watches your eyes narrow with anger and he twirls up some of the pasta you made and pops it in his mouth. “Good girl.” He teases after he chews and swallows, sending you a wink when you don’t say anything else. “Now run off back to your tower and pout about how mean I am.”

You glare at him, wanting to stomp in frustration, but instead, you start to form a plan to ruin his night. You step back, a smirk on your lips as you make your way to the door, “enjoy your dinner Tovar.” You announce sweetly before you leave the kitchen and make your way to your room, already trying to decide what to change into to “watch tv.” When you decide on the black lace number that you had bought for your previous boyfriend before he was scared off, you change into it. It’s nightwear but you can hardly consider it that when it’s practically see through and hits just below your ass cheek. You slide into your slippers and make your way downstairs to the living room, knowing Pero will come across you from somewhere. You can’t stand him, hate how cocky he is, but you know he could wreck you, make you scream his name, you want him. Far too much for your own good. You know what he is, who he is, but you still want him inside of you.

The thing about babysitting you is that it’s boring. He chafes at being unable to do what he wants. Despite his threat and want, he wouldn’t bring a whore under the roof where you are, it would be disrespectful. Not because he gives a damn what you think, he just knows you are a lady, one who doesn’t mix with that type. He huffs, dragging himself from room to room with a bottle in his fingers. Taking a swig every few minutes. The house is secure, you two are the only ones in it and there is nothing to do. He walks into the living room and rolls his eyes when he sees you sprawled out on the sofa, until he realizes what you are wearing. “Mierda.” He hisses. “Hijo de puta, what are you wearing?”

You look over at him from the television, biting your lip to stop your smirk as he growls at you. You shift, sitting up, and offer him an innocent look, “I am ready for bed. This is what I wear to bed, Tovar.” You huff and flop back against the sofa, eager to see what his next reaction is. Probably storming out…that seems to be his speciality.

Tovar stares at you for a moment, a scowl on his face before it transforms into a dark and wicked smirk. He lets his eyes drag up and down your nearly nude body as he leers. “I did not know the princess was a whore.” He grunts. “You must get a good price to have a man fuck your cunt. Tell me, do you wish to have Georgina manage clients for you?”

You hiss, quickly shifting off of the sofa to stride over to him. You waste no time in slapping him but he catches your wrist, too quick for you. “You’re a pig. Just - I was trying -” You are practically shaking with rage. 

“You were just trying…?” Tovar mocks you, your wrist still in his grip. 

“I was trying to get you to fuck me but I guess that was a momentary lapse of judgement.” You growl, trying to get out of his grip and when he doesn’t let you go, you move to slap him again with your free hand.

Tovar grabs your other wrist and smirks, dragging you closer so your tits are pressing against his chest. “You could not handle me, princess.” He sneers. “I am not a gentle man. This - this scrap you are wearing would be torn off of you and you would wear bruises for days if I did what I wanted with you.” Leaning in, his lips are so close to yours, breathing into your mouth. “You would scream until that pretty little throat of yours is hoarse and cry fat tears as I destroyed your pussy for any cock but mine.”

His words combined with his accent have your knees almost buckling and you gasp, surging forward to press your lips to his but he pulls back to stop you. You choke out a whine of frustration, “I want that. Please Pero. Please fuck me. Destroy me.” You beg breathlessly. “Please sir.” You add for good measure, wanting to see if he reacts to that.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t touch you. Your father would kill him, kill you. Still….he’s always done what he’s wanted and you’re begging for him to fuck you. Always wondered how your spoiled ass would act when you were fucked properly. He lets you go, shoving you back from him gently. “Go to bed, princess.” He orders you harshly, watching as your eyes lose their sparkle - dejected when he refuses your overture. “Go and wait on your bed like a good little slut. Panting for my cock.” He needs to check the doors and arm the system and he wants you to squirm, to wonder if he’s going to fuck you.

His words make your cunt drip and you nod, knowing he could leave you high and dry but you have to take the risk. The reward of him possibly fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before is worth it. You make your way to your room, leaving the nightie on while you lay down on the bed, swallowing harshly as you wait for him to either leave you hanging or come into your room and wreck you. The anticipation has your heart pounding and you sit up on your elbows, waiting for what turn this night takes.

Even though his cock is starting to harden, Tovar takes his time. He checks every door and makes sure that there are no open entry points when he sets the alarm. The indoor cameras have already been shut off, he hates being recorded inside a place like a home. There is no need for it and he’s thankful your father knows that, so it doesn’t seem suspicious. He even stops by the room he was to sleep in to brush his teeth and make sure that he is decent for fucking you. Smirking as he walks to your room and pushes your door open.

Your heart practically stops as he opens your door, your eyes meeting his dark, hungry, gaze and you know he’s here to ruin you. That thought alone had you ready to cum. Sure, you hate the man but he’s far too sexy for his own good. One night to indulge before you go back to loathing him. “Took you long enough.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him.

“Keep it up, princess.” Tovar growls as he steps inside the room and closes the door behind him. The click of the lock echoes through the room and he smirks. “One chance to say no.” He tells you. “Tell me now and you will go to bed nice and innocent. If I stay, you will do what I want, when I want, how I want.”

You don’t say no, cunt dripping onto the sheets and he stands at the foot of your bed, looking down at you. “I want you to fuck me.” You plead, “I want you to take what you want from me.” You know you sound pathetic but he does this to you, makes you into some needy little whore that only wants him. Maybe it’s because he’s such an asshole, you like them mean.

He stares at you for another moment, watching you wait. Your tits heaving as you breathe and when you open your mouth to beg again, he lashes out. Grabbing your ankle, Tovar drags you down the bed to where you are splayed out in front of him and ignores your shriek of surprise. Ripping the lace that covers your tits, his eyes flash for a split second before he ducks his head down and bites one of your nipples harshly before he sucks it into his mouth, his other hand groping the other.

The roughness of his touch has you moaning his name, reaching for his hair to pull him closer but he grabs your wrists, pinning them with his free hand then he continues squeezing your tit. “Oh God.” You arch your back into his touch, still in your panties despite the lace now fluttering to the floor.

He isn’t gentle. He sucks and bites and runs his tongue over your breasts until they are covered in marks. Indentions if his teeth are all over your skin. Skin puffy and swollen from the pressure of his mouth. He moves back, smirking down at his handy work and slaps your tit. “You like that princess?” He demands roughly.

You are shocked at his rough treatment, unable to believe how truly punishing his act is but you are dripping wet and speechless. “Ye-yes. More. I want more.” You plead, hands still imprisoned by his. You know you will feel his marks for days but you love it, it’s what you wanted from other lovers who could never do it properly.

Chuckling darkly, he slaps your tit again. “Such a little slut. You parade around your father’s house acting like such a princess, but you are just a little whore who needs a cock shoved in her mouth, aren’t you?” He wants to fuck your face, imagined it. Planting his knees on the bed and straddling your stomach, he holds your wrists down and unbuckles his belt with his free hand. “I’m going to fuck that smart mouth of yours, princess. Make you gag on me.”

You want him to have a struggle so you keep your mouth shut until he grabs your jaw, forcing it open and you love it, keeping it open while he grabs his cock, pushing it into your mouth. You wrap your lips around him, eyes watering when he pushes back into your throat immediately.

Snarling, Tovar lets go of your hands so he can grip your head. Immediately starting to fuck your mouth ruthlessly. Harsh swings of his hips as he pumps his cock into your mouth and down your throat. Loving how you gag and sputter when he pulls back. “Fuck.” He hisses. “Fucking take it, look at those tears. Already crying and I’ve barely touched you. You want to stop, princess? Give up?”

You shake your head and open your mouth, eager for him to continue using you. His chuckle makes your cunt clench and you moan when he pushes back into your mouth. “Such a greedy little slut.” He coos with that accent that has you moaning around him, practically close to cumming without him even touching you.

Tovar fucks your mouth, watching your eyes as his cock plunges into your throat and he slides his hips back down he can feel the way the skin of your throat bulges. “Good little whore.” He grunts, feeling his body start to tense up, knowing that he will have to stop in a few thrusts. He doesn’t want to cum down your throat right now. “Are you wet? Is your cunt dripping from sucking my cock?”

You swallow harshly as he lets you breathe. You offer him a smirk, “why don’t you find out for yourself?” You challenge, managing to pull your wrists free from his grip as you start to jerk his cock.

He reacts without even thinking about it, reaching out and slapping your cheek. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but just sharp enough to make you gasp and freeze in shock. “Did I tell you to touch me?” He growls, grabbing your wrist again.

Fuck, that nearly makes you cum. You whimper and he grabs your chin, “do not do anything without my permission.” You nod as best as you can and he squeezes your chin. 

“I- I’m sorry sir.” You gasp out and he smirks, making you whimper again.

He watches for you another second before he shuffles off of you, flipping you over onto your stomach and dragging your lace panties down. “You taunted me and said I would not spank you, Princess.” He reminds you. “Time to eat your words.”

When the first smack hits your skin, you cry out. “Oh shit.” You moan when he hits you again. Your cunt must be dripping by now, this is what you wanted from him. You wanted this violence, you wanted this  feral treatment.

“Such a fucking brat.” He growls, enjoying your cries. He’s not stupid, he can see the slick starting to coat your thighs from how turned on you are getting. You like this. His hand slaps your ass cheeks again and again until he can see welts and he knows you will feel it sitting down.

“You’re such a - a fucking asshole.” You taunt him, squealing when he smacks your ass even harder. When his hand shifts in the next smack, slapping your pussy, you moan out. You know his palm must be slick with you.

He chuckles, grabbing your ass with both hands and pulling your cheeks apart. Watching both of your holes flutter and spasm. “You like it.” He tells you, leaning down and spitting on your hole, just to be even more of a dick.

When he spits on you, you whimper, but when he pushes his thumb against the puckered hole, you practically shake with need. He’s in control and you love it. “Please.” You beg breathlessly, needing him to touch you. You need more.

He throws his leg over yours and straddles your thighs. The saliva on his cock has dried but he knows you are slick enough. Instead of warning you, he shuffles forward and guides himself to your cunt and pushes deep, burying himself to the hilt.

He takes your breath away as he pushes into you, making you reach for the sheets to cling to them as he pushes into you without warning. “Oh my fucking God.” You finally choke, closing your eyes as he stretches you more than any other lover you’ve had.

Tovar growls, slapping his hips against your ass before he pulls back to set a hard pace. You feel fucking incredible and he wants to tear you apart. Make you cry out his name and show you exactly what you asked for. Each time he hammers back into you, he pushes sounds and squeals out of you, making him smirk. “G-good, no?” He hisses, grabbing the back of your neck to hold you down while he fucks you.

You pant against the sheets as he fucks you, hard and fast. Unrelenting in his efforts to ruin your pussy for any other person on earth. You moan his name again, “it’s so good. So good. Keep going. Please. Keep - keep going. I need - I want to cum.” He’s hitting deep and each time he hits that spot, your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Tovar moans at the way your tight cunt takes him. Squeezing him as he drills into you. He pauses, pushing down on your ass and he changes angles, fucking down into you like a rag dog.

“Oh my - fuck yes.” You moan at the new angle. He’s unraveling you and you whimper when he pushes deep inside of you, his hand smacking your ass and you revel in the sting. “Pero. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - oh fuck!” You squeal, letting him push deep and you try to cry out when you clamp down around his cock but your voice breaks, going hoarse from the way he’s made you scream.

Tovar groans as you cum around him. Keeping his pace frantic to chase his own pleasure. Pulling you up to your knees and upright so your back is against his chest. His hand wraps around your throat. “Fuck, princess.” He hisses. “Gonna make you drip my cum all night.”

You gasp when he squeezes your throat, making your cunt flutter around him again, and you pant when he thrusts a dozen more times, pushing you onto overstimulation. You shake against him when you cum again, clamping down on his cock just as he buries himself deep and fills you with spurt after spurt of hot cum,

He groans roughly, biting down on your jaw while he rides out his high, squeezing your throat again. Slowing his thrusts down until he is grinding into your cunt and finally stopping. Tovar pants into your ear for a few moments before he pulls out of you. You are completely naked and he only pulled his cock out of his jeans.

You flop forward, unable to support yourself as he lets go of you. His cum drips out onto your sheets but Pero just tucks himself back into his pants. “Oh my God.” You choke, unable to speak or breathe or do anything but lay on your now ruined sheets.

“Mouth isn’t so smart now, is it?” He taunts, admiring your limp form as you are spread out and dripping him. It’s a beautiful sight, but he would never tell you that. Instead, he purses his lips and contemplates what he needs to do. Should he stay or go back to the room he is supposed to stay in. He decides to leave. “Sleep tight, princess.”

You hear the door shut and you close your eyes, unable to decide what you wanted from him after he fucked you into a stupor. You wonder if he wants more from you tomorrow, and you wonder why he wouldn’t clean you up. Then you snort to yourself. This is Pero Tovar, he doesn’t do aftercare. You manage to force yourself off of the bed to clean yourself up and you crawl back into bed, falling asleep instantly.

****

When you come into the kitchen the next morning, Tovar is sitting at the bar scrolling through his phone. The fact that there are donuts from your favorite shop is only because he wanted donuts this morning. Not because he was feeling like he should do something for you. And since he got donuts, the double shot latte you drink was just a natural extension of the order. He glowers at you when he looks up, pleased to see you walking gingerly this morning. “Afternoon, princess.” He huffs, even though it’s only nine o’clock.

You spot the donuts and latte, eyes wide with surprise but Tovar just looks back at his phone. “Did you- you got this for me?” You ask and he rolls his eyes, looking up from his phone. 

“One of the donuts is a Boston Cream Pie. Figured it was appropriate.” He chuckles and you roll your eyes but your heart flutters at the fact that he did this. He could’ve just not bothered at all if he didn’t care at least a little. You sit down, hissing a little, and notice the smirk on Pero’s face. “Did you sleep well, princess?” He asks and you nod, “I passed out not long after you left my room.”

He snorts, pleased that he had worn you out. “Soak in a bath with epsom salt.” He tells you gruffly, knowing you are sore. It will help you. “Then you will be fine. Unless you just have delicate skin.” It’s a taunt, wanting to see you spit back at him. Despite domineering you last night, he actually enjoys your smart mouth. Picking up his own coffee, he takes a sip and watches you as you open the box of donuts.

You scoff, “wasn’t too delicate last night, was it?” You retort, wanting to ask if the coffee is poisoned but you won’t lower yourself to his level. “I’ll take a bath after I have my coffee. You wanna join me?” You tease, hating that you want him again despite your body aching.

Tovar raises his brow at you and shrugs. “Sure.” He grunts, amused when your eyes widen in shock. Obviously you hadn’t expected him to say yes. “What? I take baths. How do you think I soak when I’m sore from beating a man to death?”

You wince slightly as you clench around nothing at that thought. Fuck, he’s so capable, so deadly, and yet he has only given you pleasure. You stare at him while you drink your coffee, wrapping your lips around the straw and he chuckles, sipping his own iced coffee. “I’ll go start running the water.” You announce once you’ve finished your drink and you walk over to him, leaning down to press your lips to his cheek, licking his scar as you pull back, “don’t keep me waiting, Tovar.”

He growls, nearly reaching for you again but he doesn’t. He knows you are sore and will need to soak. The truth is that he probably fucked you harder than any of the whores he fucked, but he had wanted to show you what he was capable of. To give you what you wanted. You don’t want him because of his good looks, you want him because he’s dangerous, rough. So that’s what he gave you. He finishes his drink and stands up, leaving his phone behind as he makes his way back to your bedroom.

You are naked as you bend over the bathtub to turn off the hot water just as Tovar enters the bathroom. You look back at him with a smirk, his dark eyes trailing down your spine to your ass. "I'm gonna soak, you wanna sit with me or you got better things to do?" You tease, loving that dark look in his eyes.

“If I did, I’d be doing them instead of standing here.” Tovar scoffs, reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He’s not been nice but he can sit with you in a tub. Especially if he can get you to ride him. “Keep it up and I’ll spank you again.” He warns.

You internally wince at the idea but you step into the water, moaning at the heat before you sink down, hissing slightly at the sting before you lean back and look at Tovar who is pushing down his pants. You shift forward to allow him to get in behind you and when he’s in the water, you lean back against him. “Is this okay?” You ask, knowing he’s prickly about physical contact.

Rolling his eyes, Tovar reaches for you, dragging you back against his chest more firmly. “Shut up, princess.” He rasps in your ear, muscles relaxing in the hot water. He knows it has to feel good for you, he rode you hard last night. His hand slides up and cups your breast, squeezing lightly. “Just rest your cunt and your ass.” He tells you. “It is sore, no?”

You relax against him, “yes. It is. I- last night was - it was amazing.” You tell him, smiling softly as you close your eyes and allow yourself this intimate moment with him. His hand massages your breast and you just enjoy the hot water on your sore skin. “You really did a number on me last night.” You joke softly.

Tovar snorts, pinching your nipples before he continues to grope them. “It’s what you wanted.” He reminds you. “You wanted the asshole who takes what he wants. But you cannot say I don’t make a woman cum now, can you?” He’s smug about that, leaning in and biting down on your neck. Not as rough as last night, but there is a sting to his teeth.

You whimper, hating how smug he sounds but you can't disagree with him. "No. I can't say that. I - I want more." You admit, turning your head to kiss his jaw. You wonder if he will reject you or if he will embrace you again. "I want you, Tovar." You plead, knowing you are sore but you don't care, you need him.

Letting go of your breast, Tovar grabs your jaw and stares at you for a moment. His cock is already half hard from just being naked in the tub with you and he chuckles darkly. “Cock hungry little whore.” He teases. “If you want it, you’re going to have to do it yourself.” He hums, letting go of your face and leaning back in the tub. “Fuck yourself on my cock, if you’re so eager. Ride it like the little slut you are.”

You bite your lip, shifting away from him, and you shuffle onto your knees as best as you can in the bathtub to face him. His cock is hard when you wrap your fingers around it, your cunt wet from the anticipation of having him inside of you again, and when you position him, you slowly sink down on him, mindful of the slight ache. “Shit.” You moan at the way he stretches you out. “You feel - it’s - you’re so thick.”

There’s a reason he wanted you to ride him. In this position, you are more in control of how you take him, wanting to give you time to get used to him if you are too sore or pull off if you can’t. Will he make fun of you? Absolutely, but he’s not a total monster. “All me princess, not some toy.”

You want to roll your eyes but you can't. focusing on sinking down onto his cock. He stretches you out and you are sore but the pleasure is fading out the tinge of pain. You grip his shoulders, sinking down until your ass is pressed against his thighs. "I have an IUD by the way. Since we never - we didn't get a chance to discuss that." You allow yourself a few moments to get used to his cock inside of you again.

He shrugs, unconcerned with it. He knows you have birth control because your father runs his mouth too much. You didn’t know he knew though, so it makes him seem like a bigger asshole. “Good to know, princess.” Leaning back, he watches your face, the micro expressions showing that you feel uncomfortable but the pain isn’t too much. He should know, he watches people’s pain tolerance daily.

You can’t believe he doesn’t seem to care about your IUD, most men would be breathing out in relief. Instead, Pero just stares at you, watching you as you adjust to him and finally, the ache passes. You whimper, starting to lift your hips so you can slowly sink back down onto him. His hands are gripping the tub and you slide yours down his chest, admiring his tattoos and various scars from near misses.

He smirks at you, enjoying the way your pussy flutters around him, letting you touch him how you want. Still, he keeps his hands on the tub, knowing that if he reaches for you he’s going to take over. You aren’t quite ready for that yet. You still have brief flashes of pain when you sink down too fast. “Maybe your cunt isn’t up for fucking.” He teases. “Maybe you should put my cock in your ass.”

You inhale sharply at the comment, wondering what he would feel like in your ass. “I haven’t - no one has ever - none of my boyfriends ever wanted to do that. I don’t know what to do.” You admit, not opposed to the idea. You kind of like the thought of him being the first one to take you like that.

“Oh you are a princess.” He chuckles, finally sliding hand into the water and caressing your ass before he slides his fingers between your cheeks. “You want to find out what it’s like? Have my cock in your ass? Filling up every hole you have?”

You gasp when his fingers press against your puckered hole and you whimper when he starts to push a digit inside of you. “Tovar. Please. I- I want to find out what it’s like. I want you to be the one to show me.”

Tovar hums, pushing in just enough to slip past your resistance and then he pulls his finger free. “Stand up and turn around.” He orders you roughly. “Bend over and show me your ass.”

Your legs shake slightly as you stand up, turning away from him, and you grab the edge of the tub as you bend over, showing him your swollen cunt and puckered hole, already fluttering with anticipation.

He doesn’t tell you what he’s going to do. Figuring you would tell him that it’s nasty or that you don’t want him to do it. Forgetting that he does what he wants. Grabbing your hips, Tovar leans in and buries his face between your ass cheeks, his tongue swirling around your puckered hole and flicking over it as he starts to voraciously eat your ass.

“Oh my God!” You squeal, unable to believe he’s doing that. You grip the edges of the tub tighter and moan his name as his tongue swirls and dips into an otherwise unexplored part of your body.

Tovar chuckles, enjoying the way your entire body tensed when he surprised you. He keeps a tight grip on you, rocking you back onto his tongue as he coaxes the muscle open enough to push inside.

You are surprised by how good this feels, unused to the sensations and you whimper, grinding back onto him while his tongue starts to probe deeper inside of you. “Oh shit. I-” You bend over a little more, gasping his name when he continues.

He knew you were filthy. Knew it. Humming, he makes sure that he gets you nice and wet before he pulls back so he can sink his thumb inside your tight little hole while he continues to lick around it.

He works you open with his thumb and you swear you are about to collapse. He bites down on your ass cheek and you moan his name, reaching back with one hand to tangle your fingers in his locks, pushing him back into your flesh.

“Greedy.” He rasps out, pulling his thumb out so he can push two fingers inside you. You’ve never had someone inside your ass and he will have to work you open so he doesn’t rip you.

His fingers bring new sensations you've never experienced before and you fucking love it. You rock back onto his fingers and he works you open enough to take his cock. You pant, head dropping between your shoulders and you desperately need him inside of you now.

When he feels like you are loose enough, he pulls his fingers out of you and slaps your ass. “You will need lube, princess.” He grunts at you, “more than my spit this time. Get your lube, I know you have some.”

You step out of the bath, lucky to have some extra lube in the drawer.  You have a few bottles just in case you wanted to use your toys in the shower. You grab the bottle, careful to not slip on the tile and you hand it to Pero before stepping back into the tub.

He smirks and flips the cap open. “Don’t say I don’t care about you, princess.” He jokes as he squirts a very generous amount on his hand and tilts his hips up out of the water to smear on his cock. “Fucking an ass without lube is painful, so I’m being nice.”

You watch him lube his length up and you shift to straddle him. “Plus you’re my first.” You remind him, noticing the softness that appears in his eyes for a moment. You caress his chest, “put it in.” You tell him and he reaches around you to place his cock at your puckered hole, spreading more lube with his fingers and he lifts his hips to slowly push into you. You hold your breath, bracing yourself as he takes your hips, letting you lead and you lower yourself another inch onto his cock.

Tovar clenches his jaw, hissing at how fucking tight you are. It’s like a hot vice around his cock and he loves it. “Easy.” He groans out, not wanting you to go too fast. There will be plenty of time to fuck your ass hard once you are use to him and begging for more. “We will get there, princess. Sink down on my fat cock.”

You slowly, so slowly, sink down onto his cock and he stretches you out for the first time. “Fuck. I- this feels different.” You murmur and he caresses your hips. 

“Good different or bad different?” He asks and you exhale shakily, taking another inch. 

“Good different.” You confess and sink down a little more, slowly edging his cock into you until finally, your ass is pressed against his thighs.

Tovar leans in and kisses you roughly. It’s not a timid, hesitant kiss. One that takes full command and he groans into your mouth when you open for him. Pulling you close while his tongue slides against yours as you adjust to the feeling of being full in a different sense.

You moan into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair, and you start to move. A tiny rock of your hips and he grunts into your mouth, spurring you on. You continue, gaining confidence and you start to rock on his cock. “Oh shit. That- that feels good.” You admit breathlessly.

He grins, watching your eyes glaze over before they flutter closed. Still kissing you while you whimper and whine as you work your hips. His hands move to your waist, helping you just a little. Not enough to force you to move if you don’t want to but you moan louder.

You rock onto his cock, picking up the pace as you get more confident and comfortable. Your eyes are closed and you throw your head back as you start to enjoy how he feels inside of you like this. “Fuck baby. This - this is better.” You confess, glad to give your sore pussy a break.

He snorts, smirking as he leans back and lets you move. “Yeah? You gonna cum from my cock in your ass?” He asks, moving one hand down to your cunt to press his thumb against your clit.

When his thumb presses against your clit, you whine his name and he chuckles when you move a little faster on his cock. “Is this good for you?” You ask, knowing he hasn’t really said anything since you sank down onto his cock. Maybe he’s already bored of you and he’s just entertaining you.

He glares at you, incredulous that you would ask such a stupid question. “I am trying not to blow my load, princess.” He hisses, rubbing your clit faster. “Your ass is tighter than your cunt and you nearly squeezed it off last night.”

His words send you closer to the edge, grateful that he is enjoying this so much. You moan and rock a little faster, crying out when he rubs your clit just right. “You gonna - you gonna cum inside of me, you gonna fill me up?” You lean in to nip his jaw and he rubs your clit a little harder, pushing you over the edge. “Oh fuck!” You yelp, shaking as your cunt clenches around nothing but you grip his cock in your ass.

“Fuck!” Tovar growls, unable to stay passive anymore now that you’ve cum. He grabs your hips harder this time, thrusting up into you and making water slosh out onto the floor but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is fucking your through your high and filling your ass up so you can drip his seed again. “Fuck, princess. Gonna cum- you’re gonna fucking make me cum.” He growls, pushing his hips up harshly and pulling you down as he buries himself in your body and floods your hole with hot waves of his cum.

You lean against his chest while his cock throbs inside of you, making you moan his name and kiss his neck. You’ve never been so pleasured before and he only touched you last night. He relaxes beneath you, cock still inside of you, and you tilt your head so you can softly kiss him, just breathing him in while you both enjoy your orgasms.

Tovar closes his eyes, not wanting to move right this second. You are a great fuck, and he is worn out. Panting softly as he lets you kiss him as you curl against his chest. “Be gentle when you get off, Princess.” He murmurs. “Now you will be sore everywhere.”

You snort, “you’ve ruined me Tovar.” You admit and he sighs, caressing your back. 

“Call me Pero.” You smile against his chest, “Pero.” You murmur his name and kiss one of the many scars on his chest. After a moment, you reluctantly move, gently shifting off of his cock and you hiss when you shift over to the other side of the tub, watching him relax while you start to clean up.

He smirks as you get an uncomfortable look on your face, knowing you are unused to the more realistic aspects of anal sex. You’d probably only ever read flowery romances that involve it and gloss over the dirty details. “You’re going to have to go take a shit.” He tells you with a chuckle. “Only way to get it out.”

You wrinkle your nose, “wonderful. Better go grab some water to drink.” You joke, stretching your legs out and he caresses your foot. “I need to get your cum out of me.” You shift to stand up, grabbing the nearby towel to wrap it around your body. Your body is sore but you love it, wanting to spend the rest of the day watching movies on the sofa.

He snorts, knowing you are embarrassed by the idea of taking care of that in front of him and stands. “I’ll go grab your water and you clean up, princess.” He tells you, knowing you want to have some privacy.

You watch him wrap the towel around his waist and you walk over to him, grabbing the back of his neck to press your lips to his. You pull back after a moment, pecking his lips. “Thank you.” You murmur, stepping back and turning towards the sink so you can start to clean up after he’s gone.

Pero walks through the halls, water dripping and he stops by one of the other bathrooms so he can clean up himself quickly. He figures you will want to change the water in the tub before soaking again. He can’t fuck you again, you would be too sore. Once he's cleaned up, he goes back to the kitchen and grabs the water and your donuts to leave in your bedroom to eat after.

You smile when you are cleaned up and in your room, finding the bottle of water and donuts. You settle onto your bed, figuring Pero will find you if he wants, and you start a movie. Eventually, you fall asleep from the exhaustion of getting fucked hard by the Spaniard. You are woken up by kisses on your neck, a hot body behind you and you snuggle back into the warmth, "Pero." You murmur, still hazy from sleep.

“Go back to sleep.” Pero orders gruffly, seeing how exhausted you still are. He had gone to check the house and come back to find you asleep. He wraps his arms around you and slides his hand under your shirt to cup your tit. He wants to sleep with you right now, indulge in a nap and have your soft, warm body next to his. “I’ll eat you out while you suck my cock when you wake up.”

You smile softly, "sounds good." You close your eyes, drifting back to sleep while his hands caress you. You dream of him, imagining him taking you out for dinner. The right hand man of your father, a murderer, a criminal, treating you like a princess. It's a beautiful dream but you soon wake up to Pero snoring on his back, your body curled around him, and you smile when your thigh nudges his hard cock in his jeans. Your smile turns into a smirk and you carefully work on unbuttoning his jeans. He stirs but settles down and you pull the zipper down, carefully reaching into his jeans to pull his hard cock out. You lean down, flattening your tongue along the underside.

Pero’s eyes shoot open and for a moment he has violence in his orbs, until he realizes what is happening. His hand cups your cheek and he moans, your tongue pressed to the head of his cock. “Brat.” He rasps. “Waking a man from his sleep because you are horny again.” Anyone else would think that he is pissed from his tone, but he is already grabbing you to drag you up to kiss your mouth harshly. “Take your shorts off, princess. I will lick your sore pussy while you suck on your favorite treat.”

You don't hesitate to shuffle off of him, pushing your shorts and panties down. You toss them aside and straddle his chest, reaching down to take his cock back into your mouth. He grabs your hips, pulling you back to hover over his mouth and he groans, sliding his tongue through your folds. You moan around his cock, closing your eyes as you start to bob your head.

Pero eats your pussy like he had eaten your ass, vigorously and enthusiastically. He groans into your folds and flicks his tongue over your swollen clit. Twitching inside your mouth as you swallow around him. He closes his eyes and pulls your hips back more, encouraging you to sit on his face.

You grind back onto his face, no longer shy, and you moan as he sucks on your clit. You hollow your cheeks around his cock, taking him deeper, and spit starts to dribble onto his crotch as you gag around him. You pull off for a moment to catch your breath just as his tongue slides into you, "fuck Pero." You pant, gripping his cock and you jerk him before you wrap your lips around his cock.

He would laugh, taunt you for how wrecked you sound but he’s too busy enjoying you. Your tangy arousal coats his tongue as he flicks it deeper inside you and he wants you to scream again. He likes the way you scream his name when you cum. Greedy for this time since your father will be back tonight or tomorrow. Then this little episode will be over. Pero groans into your folds and angles his chin to press against your clit while he tongue fucks you.

You continue to take him down your throat, holding your breath while you take all of him, nose nestled in the coarse hair at the base, and you pull off of him after a moment to gasp in air. You rock your hips and his chin grinds against your clit. “Oh shit Pero. I- I’m gonna - oh fuck.” You cry out as his cock remains in your hand, your body shaking while you cum again.

Pero slurps up your arousal, working you through it and happy that you soak his face. When he finally pulls his lips away, his chin and cheeks are covered in your juices. “Fuck, princess.” He groans. “Suck me off or I’m going to fuck you again.” It’s a lie, but you don’t know that. 

You want him to cum down your throat so you eagerly take him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks. You give him the sloppiest blow job, spit dripping from your mouth and you choke around him but continue, wanting him to cum. You reach down to fondle his balls, rolling them between your fingers as you take him past your gag reflex.

He chokes out your name, fingers digging into your flesh as he tenses up. So close to cumming again and when you swallow around him, he’s done. The small cry of pleasure isn’t as loud as yours but he’s breathless, lifting his lips while his cock starts to throb. Pumping smaller spurts of cum down your throat since he had cum so much this weekend.

You swallow every drop, wanting to please him after he’s made you feel so damn good. You caress his thighs while he pulses in your mouth and when he groans out that it’s too much, you pull off of him, spit and cum on your chin as you try to shift off of him, flopping down on the bed beside him with a pleasured smile. “Shit, that was amazing.” You sigh, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

Pero snorts, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. He doesn’t give a damn about his cum, or yours, he just wants to kiss you again. “Such a little slut.” He teases, sending you a small wink before he kisses you again.

You like this side of Pero. Playful and teasing. Affectionate. Much better than the gruff asshole you have come to know during his time working with your father. “Do you ever get bored of this life?” You ask him softly after a few moments when he pulls you into his side. 

“What do you mean, hermosa?” He asks and you bite your lip for a moment. 

“I mean…working for my dad. Killing people. Don’t you want more? Don’t you want a family? To settle down?”

He knows that’s not possible. He’s in this life until he dies. It’s the way it works. “You don’t know what you’re saying, princess.” He huffs, his fingers stroking your arm gently. He’s imagined it, but it’s so far out of reach, it would be like trying to go to the moon. “It doesn’t happen for people like me. You- you’ll marry some pencil dick and have six kids.” He growls, not liking the idea. “I’ll be taken out by someone younger, hungrier, when I get too old to watch my own back.”

You frown, "not if- not if you were the boss and you had a son." You bite your lip when he scoffs and says "how would I be the boss, Princess? The only way would be if your dad died and you and I-" He freezes and you look at him, waiting for his reaction. "You don't mean that." He says and you shift to sit up, looking down at him. 

"Think about it. You could protect me. You - you might never love me but I could live with that as long as we were happy as a unit. I could give you a family and you take over from my father. You are his right hand man anyway. You know how it works. I don't - my father has talked about me marrying that asshole from the Irish family - William Garin - to unite our families. I don't want that. I want you."

Pero watches you for a moment, searching for any kind of trick or backstab in your eyes. It’s dangerous just to talk like this and he’s never trusted anyone to even seemingly consider it. Although he’s thought about off-ing your old man before. He thinks about watching you with that blonde bastard and he shakes his head. “Princess, you better make damn sure you know what you’re getting into.” He growls, reaching for you again. “Just because we are married doesn’t mean you’ll get your way all the time.” He grabs your jaw and kisses you roughly before he adds, “you better give me a son.”

The fact that he just agreed to marry you has your heart pounding in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, “I promise.” You know you can’t control it but you hope you can please him, you want him to want you, to love you. You press your lips to his, sliding your tongue into his mouth and he kisses you for the first time without having sex.

 ****

“Sweetheart, I’m home!” Your father calls out as he enters the living room and you look over at him from the sofa, Pero sitting in the chair across the room, lips still wet from your kisses. 

“How was the trip?” You ask, standing up and walking over to your father, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“It was…tedious but I got what I wanted. How was your weekend? Did Tovar look after you?” He asks and you look over at his right hand man, a smirk on your face, “oh yes. He looked after me.” Your tone is innocent but your smirk is anything but. 

“Did she behave?” Your father asks Pero who stands up from the chair.

“She was fine.” Pero is nervous but on the surface he looks pissed off like he normally does. It’s not everyday you kill your boss, the man who took you in when you were nearly homeless and newly arrived from Spain. “Need to talk to you about something, boss.”

You look at Pero as he guides your father into his study across the first floor of the house. You bite your lip, the guilt creeping up but you know this is how it works in your families. No one dies of old age. Your father wants to marry you off to the son of his enemy, knowing you’ll be mistreated but he wants their land, their shipping paths. You can’t allow him to do that to you.

Pero follows your father into his study quietly. “So the girl was a problem and you didn’t want to let her know you were ratting her out.” He chuckles as he walks over to his decanter and pours himself a drink. He doesn’t offer Pero one, but then again, he never does. Pero waits while the man takes a gulp of the liquor, taking grim satisfaction in his greed for the alcohol. “Well, what did the girl do?” He huffs, looking at his second in command. 

Pero shrugs. “Nothing. She complained about marrying William Garin and offered herself to me if I killed you.” He tells the man honestly.

Your father chokes in the liquor, a laugh escaping his lips. “Oh come on. You and I both know you’d never do that. You - you wouldn’t kill me. I saved you, I made you what you are. She’s a silly little girl. She’s marrying Garin and that’s it. She won’t have a choice in the matter. We need their shipping paths and to keep them on our side. Besides Tovar, you aren’t exactly husband material, are you?” Your father laughs and takes another gulp of the booze.

Again, Pero shrugs. “Maybe not. I am rough, demanding, brutal.” He admits, looking down at his scarred hands. Hands he has beaten men to death with without a second’s hesitation on your father’s orders. It was true, he had made Tovar the man he was. Which was why it was sad that he couldn’t see this coming. “But your daughter’s pussy is tight and her mouth is fucking talented at sucking cock.” He taunts. “So I think it’s a good deal.”

Your father splutters, steam practically coming out of his ears as he glares at Pero. “What the fuck did you say?” He growls, striding towards the Spaniard. “Is that what she’s done? She’s been your whore for the weekend and convinced you to take me down? I’ll fucking kill her. She won’t be marrying Gavin, she’s gonna be killed. You- you will do it. Oh how bittersweet. To be killed by the man she seduced. You’ll do it now. Go. Before I change my mind.” Your father orders Pero, furious with him but he knows how conniving you can be. You’re your mother’s daughter. He pours another glass of booze, downing it in one gulp.

For the first time since he was taken under your father’s wing, Pero defies the man’s order. Instead of going and murdering his only daughter, Pero smirks and crosses his arms over his chest. “What are you doing?” Your father spits furiously. “You are not going to kill me.” 

This makes Pero chuckle and nod towards the decanter. “Amigo, I already did.” He tells the former boss, dropping his arms and striding towards the older man to shove him down into his chair. “It is your daughter’s love for you, and mine, that made this clean.” He growls into the older man’s ear. “Just relax and know that your last minutes will be pain free, old man. Your daughter, your empire - is now mine.”

Your father chokes, slumping down in his desk chair, his eyes full of shock and terror as it sinks in that he’s about to die. He swallows harshly and is starting to struggle to breathe. Pero stands there and watches him, his dark eyes full of unknown emotions and your father tries to speak but fails as his breath is robbed from him. He’s wheezing now, hand slamming down on the desk as he tries to relay his anger towards Pero until he finally falls face first onto the desk, his eyes glazed over as the last breath leaves his body.

Pero hears you behind him, turning his head and sighing softly. He had made sure that when they do the toxicology report, the poison won’t be reported so there will be no foul play. The cops in the area are all in his pocket anyway so he doesn’t see an issue. “It’s done, princess.” Pero grunts at you, aware that despite everything, the man was still your father and you are going to be upset at the way this had to play out. “No regretting it now.”

You don’t regret it. Your father was planning to ruin your life…just like your mother’s life was ruined before she died. You wrap your arm around Pero’s waist, “I don’t regret it. I am getting what I wanted: you.”

****

Pero growls, pissed off as he rushes through the long, sterile halls of the hospital. He knew he shouldn't have gone out of town, but he hadn’t trusted anyone else to take care of business and you weren’t due yet. Now he’s almost missed it. 

You had called him, screaming from the pain and telling him that the baby was coming when he was nearly four hours away. You couldn’t have a baby in that amount of time, could you? He doesn’t know, but he had ordered his men to fucking hurry. 

Growling out your name to the nurse at the station, Pero slaps his hand down on the desk, demanding to see you. “Where is my wife?” He hisses.

You stare down at the baby in your arms. Pero was too late to see the birth but you understand, your water broke early and the little baby in your arms is 2 weeks ahead of schedule. You can’t stop staring at the baby and just about manage to look up when Pero rushes into the room. 

“I’m too late.” He hisses, angry with himself. 

You shake your head, “it’s okay. It’s okay.” You promise, tears stinging in your eyes now that he’s here. “I’ve disappointed you anyway.” You choke, knowing how much he wanted a boy. “It’s a girl.” You announce, bracing yourself to see his face fall. You had decided to keep the gender a surprise, Pero was old fashioned in that sense and you were anxious but agreed to wait until the birth.

“Another girl.” Pero grunts. Mia, your two year old, is the spitting image of her mother. A happy, bubbly thing that fills the once quiet house where you had grown up with squeals and laughter. Newborns had terrified Pero when she was born, although he has gotten better about fearing that he is going to break them. So now, Pero leans over to scoop up the baby from your arms and look at his newest daughter. “You caused your mama to cry, niña.” He coos gruffly, falling instantly in love with the sleepy eyes staring up at him. Smirking, he looks over at you. “What do you want to call her, princess?” He demands. “Boy names have been all you have been thinking of.”

You watch him with his daughter, your heart clenching at the acceptance in his eyes, the adoration. “You aren’t - you’re not angry with me? We had - she’s a girl. You wanted a boy and I’ve given you two girls.” You choke, tears still streaming down your cheeks, overwhelmed by giving birth and now your husband’s disappointment.

Pero scoffs, scowling at you until he notices the tears that are flowing. “Don’t be stupid.” He murmurs softly, stroking the baby’s head and pressing a kiss to her crown of hair before he lays her down gently in the bassinet the nurses have put beside your bed to turn to you. “You have given me two beautiful, healthy daughters.” He reaches it and wipes your tears away. “I am not angry. How could I be angry with the woman I love giving me children? I do not care if we have boys. Our daughters will run our empire.”

Your eyes widen as he unknowingly says he loves you. He’s never said it, even during your wedding. He’s shown it sometimes, like when he’s soft when he fucks you, but he’s not an emotional man. You love him, desperately, and you’ve told him that but he’s never said it back. You haven’t had expectations of it so you’re shocked to hear him say it now. “You- you love me?” You choke out, staring at him.

Rolling his eyes, as if you are stupid for believing otherwise, he kneels down by your bed. “I killed my boss for you, princess.” He reminds you quietly, his fingers sliding down your cheek and he takes your hand. The one that he put a ring on the day after your father’s funeral. “You think I would do that for anyone? I had power, I had money. I did what I wanted. But I did that so I could have you.” He murmurs, bringing your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it softly. “I love you. And I love our daughters. I will continue to kill for you if I have to. Te amo.”

His words make you cry and you pull him close, as close as you can, and press your lips to his. Hearing him say it has you soaring and you can’t regret what happened that weekend. It got you the family you’ve always wanted and a husband you adore. “Te amo, Tovar. I love you.” You murmur against his mouth. “Maybe we can try for baby number three.” You tease and Pero chuckles. 

“If you want, Princess. Although I think I’m going to go gray early with four princesses.” He jokes and caresses your cheek. 

“Worth it though.” You run your fingers through his hair. 

“Yes you were.” He murmurs, offering you a rare smile. You were worth it. Pero Tovar has it all and no one will take it away from him, he’ll kill to protect what’s his.

[fantasyismyonlyrealescape]

Whumptober 2024: No. 26 - Nightmares/Parting Words of Regret/ I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions that I have hated

Title: Love Turned to Hate

Fandom: WWE (Professional Wrestling)

Characters: Sami Zayn & Jey Uso (Past-SamiJey)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 1149

A/N: Welcome to another addition to Whumptober, Day 26. This one was fun. I really enjoyed the quote attached to this one. I toyed with it a little, so that it fit the plot a little better, but it instantly screamed SamiJey for me. Cheers!

Summary: Jey Uso hadn't been adjusting well to a life without Sami Zayn in it, with both his sleeping and waking hours haunted by the man he once loved. Desperate to be alone, he finds a seemingly empty corridor only to run across the one man he never wished to see again.

Cross posted on AO3 under user wrestlinginjeans.

Jey Uso hadn’t been sleeping well since the Royal Rumble where his family had been fractured by one swing of a metal chair, his adopted brother choosing another over his family. Jey had screamed in his face but couldn’t bring himself to help Jimmy as his twin beat Sami into the mat. Instead, he used his words to direct all of his anger down onto the man that he had once called a brother. He didn’t stop once to think about the consequences and how he would feel afterwards. Jey was so used to leaning into his anger, not addressing his emotions or visiting any situation with a calm head. Roman had encouraged the behavior in his right-hand man and Jey knew better than to disrespect the Tribal Chief.

Jimmy had woken him up once during the previous night in their hotel room, shaking his distressed twin awake and telling him to get his head sorted out. Jey could tell that his twin was getting tired of his problems, but he didn’t know how to move past this as he had never learned how. So, instead of trying to fall back asleep as he didn’t want to disturb Jimmy again, he remained awake throughout the rest of that night. He tried not to think too much but with nobody to distract him he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, trying to come up with why it had all gone wrong.

The nightmares coupled with the subsequent lack of sleep put Jey in a sour mood as they headed to the arena for Smackdown that night. Jey had torn off from the group immediately after they had entered the building, not wanting to be around anyone if he could manage it. Unfortunately, as he turned the corner and found a seemingly empty hallway with production crates stacked along the walls, he found that there were others with similar ideas of seclusion. Or rather, one other person.

Jey noticed the redhaired wrestler before Sami noticed Jey, his back turned as he looked at a poster on the white cinderblock wall. Jey watched for a moment, his muscles immediately tensing with anger as he turned on his heel to walk away only for a voice to call out after him.

“Jey!” The painfully familiar voice of Sami called after him and Jey could hear his light footfalls approaching quickly.

“No, nah man.” Jey growled, throwing a hand up over his shoulder as he continued to walk away from him until he felt one of Sami’s hands on his arm.

“Get your hand off of me now, Sami!” Jey yelled as he whirled around to face his former brother, the action ripping his arm free as he stalked forward and pushed the redhead up against the wall.

“Hey, relax man I just want to talk.”

Jey couldn’t help but scoff at how relaxed Sami seemed even as Jey was fully in control and could easily beat the man down given their current positioning.

“Relax? You tellin’ me to relax?”

“Look, Jey. Just please listen… I didn’t do what I did to hurt you—”

“—hurt me?” Jey yelled, cutting Sami off. “Hurt me? You think what you did hurt me? Nah. You remember what I said to you when you first joined us? I’ll never like you, I’ll never care about you. Nah, what you did didn’t hurt me because I never liked you. I never loved you!” Jey growled, leaning in so that he was right in Sami’s face.

“I’m sorry, Jey, but I know that isn’t true.” Sami states simply in that endlessly patient tone that now made Jey’s blood boil.

“It ain’t? Ah okay, here we go with the all-knowing Sami Zayn. You think you know me better than anyone, huh? You ain’t never consider that I wanted you to think that? That it was all so that you could let your guard down and then I could destroy you?” Jey says, his tone growing dangerously low. “And that ain’t by orders of the Tribal Chief, that was all me.” Jey adds, jamming a thumb to his chest then to emphasize his point.

“So what? You’ve been living a lie this whole past year? All of those times that you confided in me, that was all an act? I’m sorry, Jey, but no matter how many times you lie to yourself about our past it’s not going to change what I know is true.” Sami says, hazel eyes meeting brown orbs, attempting to convey that he still cared, that he didn’t mean to hurt Jey. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight. I’m sorry about what happened but I did what I had to do.”

And there it was, the apology. Those simple two words thrown into a sentence that threatened to drain the anger from Jey and leave behind… nothing.

“No, you ain’t.”

“Yes, I am! I didn’t have a choice. Roman had that chair aimed at Kevin’s head, he could have killed him… We both know what he’s capable of.” Sami said, his tone lowering to the point that Jey wouldn’t have been able to hear him if not for their close proximity. “I never wanted to betray you… If there had been some other way…” Sami trails off, dropping his gaze to the floor in defeat.

“But there wasn’t, Sami, was there? As you said, you did what you had to do. And now, I’ve gotta do what I gotta do.” Jey states, the words bringing Sami’s eyes back up to Jey’s own. The redhead’s expression was one of confusion, replacing the previously calm demeanor.

Jey’s eyes narrow before he steps back quickly and punches Sami in the face, the force smashing the redhead’s skull up against the cinderblock wall before he crumples to the floor. Jey takes a moment to glare down at his former brother now unconscious by Jey’s hand.

“Yeah, I did love you.” Jey whispers angrily, kicking the fallen body with his red high tops. “But I ain’t ever gonna love you again.” Jey adds before turning to walk away, leaving Sami’s crumpled form behind.

Jey Uso would always be haunted by things beyond his control, his nightmares following him everywhere even in his waking hours. Sami Zayn had been a lie, a lie that he had loved despite every fiber of his being telling him not to. He had been conditioned, wired to not trust anyone, to not love anyone other than his family. But that is what Sami had become for a time, he had become family to the younger Uso twin. Jey knew then that he would be haunted by Sami’s lies and by his actions almost as if Jey’s back had been the one to feel the stinging metal of the chair and in a way he had. Just another betrayal, another scar to add to Jey’s collection.

[abbatoirablaze]

Deal With The Devil, Chapter 11

Word Count:  1.9k

Warnings:  mentions of cheating/infidelity, angst, mentions of drugs.

“Eat her out, he growled, looking between Bucky and the cum that was dripping from his fiance’s core, “I want to see you clean your cum out of her with your mouth.”

Bucky stared at Steve in disbelief as he made the demand, “you what?”

“She’s my fiancé,” he said firmly, “I get to put one in her first.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Bucky scoffed, “She-“

“You want it so bad, you do it,” Inez demanded, staring Steve down as she cut Bucky off, “you eat me out…”

Steve looked at her, shocked that she was suggesting such a thing, “what?”

But her hands were already tangled in her fiance’s hair as she pulled him closer, and her lips captured his own.  Steve nearly swooned into the passionate kiss, forgetting that she was suggesting that he eat Bucky’s cum out of her.  And when she pulled away, she was whispering against his own lips, “eat James’ cum out of me, Steve…you wanna make sure I’m pregnant with your child, you do it…or I’m going to let James fuck me again, and again, and again, until I’m sure I’m carrying his kid and not yours.”

It was like his mind glitched, and he couldn’t think for himself.  He nodded dumbly and allowed her to push his head down towards her still quivering pussy. 

“James,” she whispered softly, motioning him forward, “Come here!”

He, too, followed her instructions, completely surprised by how she was not only taking control of the situation, but how he and Steve were following her every command.  When he reached her face, he allowed himself to be pulled in as well, their own lips colliding in another heated passion. 

Steve’s face hovered over her mound. 

He was turned on by the situation, but there was an anxiety bubbling deep under the surface. 

All of a sudden, he stopped; his mind racing back to his childhood, and the beating his own father had given him for just kissing his one-time best friend felt like it’d just happened a day prior instead of a decade ago. 

And as much as he wanted to do as she commanded, he pushed himself back from the bed, instead choosing to be a passive participant. 

He watched as the two of them made out, her hands trailing down his taut frame and touching him in ways that Steve had dreamt about once upon a time. 

His jealousy grew in both ways. 

Inez was his fiancé.

Bucky was the man that he’d always been in love with.

And here they were, so free in their intimacy with one another at his own insistence. 

There they were, asking him to join it.

And he couldn’t allow himself to. 

He hated himself in every sense of the word for not being able to allow himself the same freedom that his partners were engaging in.  His nails dug into the plush leather of the chair. 

He wanted to taste Bucky’s lips again. He wanted to feel Inez wrapped around his cock.

But he sat, frozen in the moment when he should have been allowing himself to feel free.

“OH, FUCK!” he roared as he came inside the bride.  His head fell forward against hers, and she pulled him into a heated kiss, needing him more intimately now more than ever, “I love you baby…god, I fucking love you.  Gonna spend the rest of my life showing you…showing you just how much-“

“I love you, James!” she moaned.  His steely eyes softened as he looked at her. 

“He doesn’t deserve to be your husband,” Bucky growled sadly as he pressed kisses all over her face and chest, “fuck, he doesn’t deserve to call you his…it should be me.”

Inez reached up and stroked her boyfriend’s cheek, stopping him from talking about how the other side of their little love triangle, and the man that had married her just a few hours ago had already ditched them to have sex with one of his lieutenant’s wives. 

“We don’t have to talk about him, James!” you whimpered softly shaking your head, “I don’t want to talk about someone who isn’t here.”

“I’ll always be here, baby!” he promised, kissing her lightly, “I’ll always be here for you, doll.”

She stroked his cheek again before he pulled out and rolled off of her.  The two of them were laying in the bed of the honeymoon suite, making the best out of the situation. 

“I just wish that Steve was here too!” she said honestly. 

Bucky looked at the bride, her dress eagerly discarded closer to the door of the hotel room, just as Bucky’s tux had been torn off on their way to the bed.  He watched her intently. 

Her hand fell to her stomach, the barely there bump having been hidden by the layers of lace and tulle during the ceremony.  He reached over, his hand softly laying over hers. 

“I can feel the baby moving,” she said softly, guiding his hand a little lower until he felt the smallest of kicks.  Bucky couldn’t help but smile thinking about how his unborn child was already so active, “I think it’s going to be a boy…”

His heart did flips at the thought of that.

“A boy, huh?”

She nodded, “me and Pepper were talking and she said that during her pregnancy with Morgan-“

“Sh-she doesn’t know, does she?” he asked nervously, referring to their situation.

“No one knows, James,” she said with a frown, “they all think that Steve and I are expecting…th-they don’t know that he just watches us…that he’s never actually touched me…”

“But they have to know about how he’s still cheating?”

“They don’t…and when I bring it up to him he always gets upset with me.  He says that I’m cheating too…so it’s only fair.” She shrugged, “I don’t want to push it though…I mean, we both know that he’s got feelings for us…but he just-“

“He’s too scared to act.”

She nodded, “but I wish he wasn’t…”

“Has he-has he even kissed you since we started this whole…throuple?”

“Aside from today’s kiss,” she asked.  Bucky nodded and she shook her head with a sigh, “I think-I think that’s why I lean so heavily into you when we get intimate…you want me…and you’re not afraid to admit it.”

“He wants you too…and he wants me…”

“He’s got a shit way of showing it.”

“Give him time, doll…he’ll come around.”

“I-I don’t know if I want him to.  I mean…I think that if he doesn’t meet us at the air strip…if he’s not on that plane with us in the morning…I think I’m going to tell Tony…everything…and I think…I think I might get the marriage annulled.”

“You don’t think that’s too rash a decision?” he asked, his fingers lacing with hers as their eyes met.

“You do?”

He frowned, “I’m still his third in command, Inez…and regardless of what we do outside of the businesses, he’s still one of my best friends.  He’s still…technically our third.”

“Then why has he all but distanced himself from us?” she asked with a frown, “he should be here…he should be a part of this.”

“I know, doll…”

“I just want him here…I want to know that he’s safe…”

“I’m sure that he is.”

“But we don’t know that for sure!”

“Where the fuck am I?” he groaned, his head aching as the sun nearly blinded him.  He raised his arm up to the sky and tried to block out some of the light, “Shit, turn it off!”

“Can’t turn t he sun off!” she giggled.

Steve groaned, “Then shut the fuck up!”

“Do you want another margarita, baby?” she asked, “nothing better as a hangover cure than another margarita!”

Steve groaned once more at the grating voice, “I said shut the fuck up!”

“Well, someone’s cranky!” a voice giggled.

“Sounds like he’s finally coming down off his binge!” another voice chimed in, “I think we’re out of the coke, but I’m sure I could make a call and-“

“God will you shut the fuck up?” he growled, “I’m sick and tired of hearing your fucking screeches, you god damned banshees!”

“Screeches?”

“We left our husbands for you, Steve!”

“Where the fuck are we?” Steve repeated after blinking a few times and seeing that his yacht was tied up at the dock, “I don’t recognize this place.  Are we close to New York?”

“You’re so funny, Steve!”

“We’re in Miami…like you promised!” the second one giggled, “remember?  You said that you wanted to take us to Miami so we could prance around in our little bikinis for you while you sipped tequila out of our belly buttons and did lines of coke off our ass.”

“Where the hell is my wife?” he growled, “where’s Bucky?”

“You left those buzzkills back at the reception, remember, Stevie?”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growled, “and get the hell off my yacht!”

“But Steve-“

“FUCK OFF!”

“You look like shit!”

“You can go to hell too!” he growled, sending his second in command a stern look while he stalked through his house, “where is Inez?  Where’s Buck?  They’re not answering my calls.”

“Suppose it be pretty hard to when they’re probably off fucking on the Grecian beaches you were supposed to be at for your honeymoon.”

He gave Sam another glare.

“Don’t kill the messenger, boss,” he said with a frown as he passed him an envelope, “they left this for you…and there’s a packet in your office.”

Steve gave the envelope a look.  It was plain, and there wasn’t much weight to it.  His name was written neatly on the front.  Even in his short time knowing his wife, he could see that it was Inez’ handwriting. 

Steve,

I’m guessing that you came back at some point during the honeymoon.  Me and James still went.  Without you, obviously. 

I told him during our wedding night that if you weren’t at the air strip that we were going regardless, and that I would get the marriage annulled. 

I waited three days past that point. 

We really didn’t want to leave you behind. 

But I’m guessing that you never really wanted this. 

Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you as hard as I did that first night…the night that you convinced me to cheat on you with James.  Maybe I shouldn’t have made you kiss him. 

Maybe I should have felt the shame that any other woman would have felt when she was forced into her first intimate encounter.

But you were different after that night. 

More reserved. 

You never put a hand on me after that. 

Even when you kissed me at our wedding it didn’t really feel like you were there. 

I told Tony about it. 

All of it. 

He knows that I slept with James.  And that I’m pregnant with his child.  He took care in making sure that the marriage was annulled quietly.  As far as anyone is concerned, it looks like I’m married and, on my honeymoon,…and truth be told, I am. 

After the annulment, on the third day, James and I got married at the courthouse, and got on a plane.  When I come back, I’m going to have a place in Manhattan.  With James. 

Tony’s already made sure that we’ll be okay…and Bucky is going to be working with him now…now that Happy’s moving on. 

In the almost five short months that we’ve known each other, I did fall in love with you…and him.  But I can’t force him to wait any longer for you to want to be with us. 

Truth be told…I don’t want to wait.

Please don’t be angry with us. 

But we’re moving on.

Without you,

Inez and James

Chapter 12

Tag List:  @teambarnes72, @prokey16, @lohnes16, @shellybellysstuff, @cynic-spirit

[witchywriterlythings]

The Start of Something Feral

There was something alluring and pride-inducing about drawing the attention of a god, someone she learned about in classes as a myth, as someone worshiped for generations and is still talked about with respect, if not that same reverence, today. There is something powerful in the way she should be afraid of him, afraid of the earth that shakes under his heavy feet and the way the waves crash ever more violently when he’s in her bed.

She feels nothing but dizzying adrenaline when she goes to the library to look up his name, to see who she is letting take her over, and finds Wanax next to his name. She sees how he was king before his younger brother came to be in the eyes of man, how his story was changed over and over again by mortals who looked at the seas and were afraid.

Sally sometimes feels as if she would drown in Poseidon’s presence if he weren’t actively choosing to spare her.

She teases him closer with her knowledge, whispering how she knows what to call him now. “Poseidonos Wanax,” she breathes next to his ear and feels the vibrations of his growl under her hands as he tears at her dress in an attempt to reach more skin. She repeats all of the titles she can remember reading in a chant form of his name, gasping as sharp teeth dig into her flesh just enough to bruise.

She delights in it because she is nineteen and she doesn’t know any better.

Eventually, Sally will realize her mistake and refuse to give him a name. He is simply the father of her child, not something physical that can come back to steal away what happiness she has left. She will hate herself for her naivety and blind adoration of something she didn’t understand, but she will forgive herself when she sees Percy reach for her for the first time.

She will be aware that gods have different morals than the mortals they observe from their heavenly seats; she need only think of Demate and Despoina, who were once both his wives and his sister and daughter. She need only think of how he claimed Demate as his wife, the same as Zeus. The kings of gods seem to have a habit of raping women to force them into marriage.

This Sally Jackson thinks back to when he left her standing there on the beach, a pregnancy test in hand and ideas about how their life could be. He promises her a palace under the sea where he can take care of them both, and all she can hear is, let me hide you away, my secret. She does not cry when he turns to the waves, and she does not walk away despite how much she wishes to flee. She will not turn her back on him again, even if today he is only Poseidon. Earthshaker and god of the seas.

She gets angry and plasters on smiles because she refuses to let her emotions get the better of her again. She lets herself be tired only in the studio apartment she managed to pull together with the money her uncle left in her savings. She snarls in the mirror as she wonders what kind of monster she might raise if she lets herself hate their father.

This Sally takes one look at the bundle placed in her arms by a nurse with furrowed brows, one who asked if there was anyone they could call and could only give pity when the answer was no. Sally is twenty years old and lets the snarl she practiced in the mirror appear when one of the doctors mentions putting up her son for adoption.

Percy gurgles at her even when the nurses flinch away, pulling at her lip until she presses them both to his forehead.

“I love you, baby, and we are never ever getting separated. Not if I can help it.”

This Sally flinches away from breastfeeding her son only six weeks after leaving the hospital, surprised by the pink mess coming out of her nipples instead of the milk she was expecting. She cleans herself and Percy, ignoring how he whines for more until she can see the teeth marks marring her flesh. They aren’t deep enough for her to be concerned about him taking more than blood and milk with him, and for that, she is thankful. She checks his mouth and sees regular teeth, all pearly white, until the point that hides behind each one appears. Two rows of teeth. Huh.

She can’t afford formula, and Percy doesn’t seem to mind the blood anyway. She might be more concerned if she wasn’t working night shifts under the table at whatever job she could find that would let her take her son.

Or, more accurately, she smiles too sharply when her boss tries to deny her bringing Percy to work with her in a sling and then promptly ignores his warnings and does it anyway. She is the best “customer service rep” he’s ever had, with women cooing over her sleeping son as they buy their wine, stopping by specifically to “check up” on them even as Sally hears them sneering behind her turned back. She takes every barb, every yell from some creep in the streets who thinks her an easy target, and fuels her ability to do it again the next day.

This Sally scraps and saves and gets Percy into preschool at two even though most of the children are a year older, despite their “all children must be potty trained” rule because Percy likes the sound of the water flushing, and it saved her on diapers to teach him how to use it first. This Sally gets a call at the end of the year from a disturbed woman claiming Percy killed something and “he just doesn’t seem to be fitting in with the older kids; I really think he’d be better off somewhere else.”

Her outrage over how a snake was able to get into her son’s cot is ignored as they are pushed out the door, and if she is ignoring the bite marks on the dead thing's tail, that’s no one’s business but hers.

She debates setting up shrines for the goddess of luck and a few others who might help her son in exchange for recognition, but she knows that goes both ways and eyes on her son are not something she needs. Sometimes she lets her cookie dough fall into the flames while thinking generally of her few classes on the Greek pantheon, ignoring the times it dissipates on contact. She never dares when her son is home.

This Sally storms her way across the boroughs of New York as she drives them to Montauk, putting her son in the sand a safe enough distance away as she screams her fury to the waves. She doesn’t care if he sent the cyclopes to the school, if he was checking on his son, or if it was just another monster who got too close. She screams until her voice gives out. She flips it off anyway and storms back into the cabin, tucking Percy safely into bed.

This Sally Jackson raises her son to be kind first and angry second. This Sally Jackson teaches her son to keep his hair long so it covers the scales on the back of his neck. This Sally Jackson teaches her son to paint his nails pretty colors because they turned black and hard around his tenth birthday.

This Sally Jackson raised her son to know his heritage. To know who and what his father is because she refuses to lie to her son. To keep him soft when the world will sooner rip into his belly and feast. She raises her son with a knife in his hands and sharpened claws as a last resort.

This Sally Jackson hopes to turn her son into a shark because if the rest of the world thinks that’s what he is, if that is what they think he hides, she can breathe.