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syoddeye · 4 months ago

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the warren, part four - nothing

price x f!reader | 4.5k words part one - bait | part two - fix | part three - trouble tags: harassment, alcohol, violence, weird and unsettling vibes, darkfic. a/n: peeling away reader's layers. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune. 🔪

Light beckons you out from the makeshift burrow you furiously dug beneath your bed, breaking through pilled walls of linen. It pulls you from sleep, reluctantly at first, then all at once when visions of the night before rush back in a deluge. It’s enough to momentarily forget your shelter, wincing as you smack your skull into the timber frame. Your muscles ache from laying awake for hours, curled in a tight ball, both cowering and vigilant. Prepared to defend yourself from whatever clawed the walls, should it have climbed in through the window.

You hold your breath, count to ten, and listen. The hammering of a woodpecker. Robins, wrens, and bluebirds singing. Squirrels and chipmunks chattering. The idyllic sounds of nature are not enough to banish the deep scratching from your ears. Not enough to erase the nightmare that the daylight apparently keeps at bay.

It’s privately embarrassing, fighting your way out of the sheets and blankets. Squeezing out from under the bed in a huff. You dress hastily into simple jeans and a t-shirt, somehow rationalizing that if whatever is out there is actually cathemeral, you won’t want to be caught in a dress.

Eyes wide and head swiveling, you make the short journey from the bedroom to the kitchen a step at a time. Nothing appears amiss. Your phone is in your bag on the table where you left it, and your wallet is undisturbed.

Summoning your courage with a chef knife, you steel yourself to check the exterior. You brace yourself for carnage, but only dull gravel stretches before you. Your car sits unmoved. The carport still sags. There are no downed trees or flattened brush on the perimeter. Even the cats, flitting about the yard, seem unperturbed. They stare, pupils constricted in judgment, as you start to circle the cabin.

You pause at the turn that’ll take you beneath the window of the cabin’s bedroom, where the scratching emanated. The knife is slippery in your palm from sweat, your stomach in knots. Inch by inch, you force your feet to move.

Nothing. More nothing.

The walls are unscathed. Devoid of any marks save by what seems natural. The discovery, or lack thereof, leads you to complete a loop, then another. You walk around the cabin four times looking for any sign of the nightmare, and find no scratches, footprints, or other signs of a large animal.

Inside, you feed the knife into the block by the sink and stare into your warped reflection in the faucet. Maybe you ate something bad at dinner.

In the washroom, you reach for your toothbrush and catch air. It takes a second to register why and another to race to the screened porch. You unbolt the door, throw it open, and…Empty. You check behind the glider and its ottoman. Nothing . Not so much as a splatter of toothpaste or dried spit.

The hair on the nape of your neck stands electrified, blood buzzing. Looking through the fine mesh of the screen, a thin calico struts past. It stops, assessing your dumbfounded look, then continues, ducking beneath your car.

You swallow, mouth dry and stale. John said he’d speak with you about the car, and the store ought to be open. Suppose you’ll visit him sooner rather than later.

John isn’t alone. A dirt bike occupies the spot beside his truck.. Through the door, you see a man at the counter, and rather than interrupt the conversation, you delay and check the kittens.

They’re behind the shop now, on the back porch of the connected living space. Curious heads poke over the ridge of their tub, and all but a brave tabby scurry clamber out to scamper under the steps. The remaining kitten allows a single touch, then tucks itself into the corner, staring as if it doesn’t know what to make of you. A half-eaten pile of wet food sits atop the straw. You imagine John leaving it, whispering to the little things. It’s sweet. For his backward opinions on animals, he doesn’t neglect them.

After a few minutes, you can’t dawdle anymore. Your mouth tastes sour. The single mint from the bottom of your bag is a poor substitute for hygiene. The man’s head turns when the electronic chime above the door sounds your entry.

Pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head, your eyes widen at the unobstructed view.

The man is big. The term ‘cornfed’ comes to mind, but that doesn’t seem fitting. He looks like he’d give Paul Bunyan a run for his money in a cage match—taller and broader than John, with buzzed blond hair and enough scars to suggest he fought a wood chipper and won.

In your gut, it feels as though you shouldn’t look at him directly.

John straightens, chest puffing out. “Be with you in a moment.”

You nod in response and duck into the first aisle, though the man turns his head, getting a good look at you with how he towers above the shelves. It’s a standoff for all of three seconds before the corner of his mouth twitches, and he turns back. You pretend to find the canned tuna fascinating after that. This isn’t any of your business.

The men talk in hushed tones. Not a word rises above a whisper. Minutes pass, and you’ve memorized everything between the tuna and green beans. Peeking between tins, you see John’s brow low and stern, mouth flat, painting a picture of disappointment. He cards a hand through his hair. Whatever stresses him, his exasperation breaks the quiet.

“The second you know, call me.”

It’s at this moment, of course, he catches you looking. He offers a quick smile, then jerks his head. The man moves, and you scuttle as nonchalantly as possible to hide behind the endcap. You watch his head float above the shelves until he exits and stay there until John speaks.

“Got a sweet tooth?”

You blink, taking stock of the colorful display of cookies and candy in front of you. Sheepishly, you emerge from your hiding spot. “No. I just didn’t want to intrude.”

John chuckles, head bowed. “So polite.”

The toiletries have a clear view of John. In his hand sits a phone, much newer than the brick you’ve seen him use before. Whatever’s on the screen holds his attention. He pinches something—an image or video?—and zooms. Curiosity grips you, but it’s really not your business, though questions itch your throat. It isn’t until you pluck a toothbrush from a hook and step in his direction that his eyes flick up. He locks the phone, casually tucking it into a pocket. “That’s it? Did you misplace yours?”

The question makes the tips of your ears hot. You slowly dig out your wallet, cobbling together a white lie. What are you supposed to say? That you dropped it because of a bump in the night and subsequently, something, probably a rat with your luck, stole it? It doesn’t make sense, and you don’t want to be labeled nuts. You don’t know what you heard. You didn’t even see it. On the walk down, you concluded that it was most likely a cougar or bear after a cat and that you were very, very lucky. That a critter found a hole in the screen and made off with your toothbrush. Somehow, it all comes out as—

“I once read you’re supposed to replace them every six weeks, so. Oh! I’ll take one of those, too.” The lie rushes out. Hopefully, the novelty fish-shaped pocket knife you point at distracts him.

John smooths a finger over his mustache, eyes twinkling with an amusement you know means he doesn’t believe you, but he lets you get away with it. “Right.”

As he clips off the tag, you maintain a distance to spare him your breath.

“Don’t s’pose you’ve heard from Nik, have you?”

He slides the folded blade across the counter. “I have. He’d like to meet in person at his shop. Noon work?”

The sooner, the better. “Yes. Can I get a lift?”

John grins. “Well, I’m not gonna let you walk.”

Your car is down for the count, but nothing that Nikolai can’t fix, or so he claims. The rundown of its issues is lost in translation, a dizzying volley of jargon. The Russian man’s another mystery you can’t afford to press, given he’s the only mechanic in the area willing to do the work on the cheap. It doesn’t soften the blow when you learn the necessary parts won’t arrive for weeks. But what other choice do you have? You fork over an eye-watering amount of money, knowing precisely how lean your account will stand when the transaction clears. John and Nik excuse themselves to the office afterward, and the former politely asks you to wait by the truck.

The auto shop slash junkyard sits deep into the woods, nestled at the foot of a ridge at the base of Mount Grouse. A labyrinth of rust and metal that snakes into the surrounding trees. Boat hulls, machinery, wrecked cars, and the like litter almost every square inch of the ground. You wander around, scanning crumpled plates on flattened cars. Crouching to examine one such plate from New Jersey or New Hampshire, something New , a prolonged meow draws your attention. You catch the tip of a tail as it disappears around the corner of the shop and inwardly sigh. Another feral cat.

A path wraps around the building, and a hefty tomcat sits at the far end. His tail twitches, beckoning, if you didn’t know any better. The men aren’t finished, so you follow.

Of course, he darts off as soon as you’re close. He scurries toward an upturned pallet leaning against the sheer rock wall—next to a heavy-duty iron gate. You’ve attended enough family days and mine tours to know an adit when you see one. Memories as sharp as a pickaxe hook your ribs, stealing your breath away.

The sight pulls you forward, but a voice calls you back.

“Taking yourself on a tour?”

Nik stands at the opposite end of the path with an amused smile.

Shaking off the sudden swell of emotion as best you can, you glance at the sealed entrance. This is Idaho. This is a mountain. It’s simple math to deduce it’s an old mine shaft. You drag your feet toward Nik. Apprehension unseats the grim memories swirling in your head.

“Sorry. I saw a cat.” You confess lamely, looking past him to see John slowly pace a short distance down the drive, phone to his ear.

“Ah, one of my employees.” Nik humors. “They help keep the rats out of my business.”

“Well, I haven’t seen so much as a mouse.” You attempt to appease and shove your hands in your pockets, fiddling with the puny knife you bought.

Nik nods. “Yes, they’re very good at their jobs. Good thing you’re not a rat, hm?”

Your smile falters, but you politely laugh. “Yeah, good thing,” You dig your nails into the knife handle until it hurts, wishing John’s call would end already.

Nik’s lips thin in a sage expression, then huffs, clapping a filthy hand on your shoulder. “Yes. Not a rat, no.” He ignores your wince. “You strike me more as a rabbit. A bunny.” He throws his head back and laughs, coughing a bit as it crests. A word or two of Russian slips out.

“What's so funny?”

Finally, John crosses the shop’s yard, and Nik immediately lets go.

“He said that I strike him as a rabbit?” You respond, hoping he can shed light.

John’s face pinches, then he shakes his head. “It’s a bad joke. Is she set, Nik?”

The Russian affirms with a wheeze and waves his hand as if to sweep you away. “Yes. Hop along now, rabbit.”

You stiffly climb into the truck, grateful when the junkyard disappears in the rearview, swallowed by the trees. John doesn’t speak until he turns onto the road.

“Sorry about Nik.”

“I know he didn’t mean anything by it.” You’ve met worse men than Nik, with far worse ‘jokes’.

Another brief silence passes before John cranks the window and invites the cool breeze to cut through the truck’s cab. He takes a deep breath, an uncertain look on his face. “That was a friend on the phone, the one who’s gonna assist with your paperwork, if you’re still interested in the job.”

The contents of your stomach churn. The job slipped your mind, what with everything else.

“I am. They’re fine with, um, taking creative liberties?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, there’s a catch. I’ll need some legitimate information for my own records to create a believable paper trail. He’ll take it from there.”

Your head spins, forcing your eyes shut for fear of car sickness. It’s been years since you filled out a form with your legitimate information, you didn’t need to. When you purchased your fake ID, the man asked for a phony name and address, and you bit your nails to the beds as Kate processed your application. It’s a mix of luck, half-assed security, the average person’s everyday indifference, and your dwindling cash that you’ve made it this far. And the confidence with which John speaks, as if it’s all really that simple and routine, doesn’t help. But it’s like the car: what choice do you have? Scrape by on shady writing jobs posted to message boards or allow the man with no qualms of committing fraud and forgery, a man who likes you, to do you a favor?

You don’t notice the truck’s stopped, idling, until John settles a wide hand over your knee. He gazes at you, eyes the softest you’ve seen, and wears a sympathetic smile. “You can trust me.”

Someone else’s face eclipses his for a split second. You push it away. John’s the first person to stick their neck out for you in a long time. That is worth something. You lay your hand on his and squeeze.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

You ‘pass’ the ‘background check’ with flying colors. John takes you to the Foxhole to celebrate and introduces you to its regulars as his new shop girl. It’s a bit much, but the buzz from the beer and excitement from securing actual employment keep you in high spirits. He summons you to work the next day and spends the morning showing you the ropes of what he promises to be an uncomplicated job. By that afternoon, you’re on duty.

Time passes with relative normalcy. The possible bear or cougar incident fades to background noise. The shop is as straightforward as promised. Business rapidly picks up shortly after you start, as does activity across both towns. The lake teems with boats. The Foxhole’s parking lot fills every night. The Lakeshore Arms motel is booked.

You haven’t worked regularly since you were a teenager, but it’s strangely pleasant. Akin to those early days on the road, savoring the taste of independence. Out from under a steel-toed boot and reacquainting yourself with personhood. Sure, you’re not changing the world stocking shelves or chatting with tourists, but you’re earning money, and John’s a better boss than he is a date.

John’s also a better handyman, and Kate keeps him busy with a laundry list of improvements and repairs for the cabin. He turns up bright and early on weekend mornings with his toolbag in hand. Kate apparently worries about energy costs and regularly tasks him with installing energy-efficient features across her properties. A new shower head, LED bulbs, and another dozen minor fixes. He even patches the mesh on the screened porch. You do not complain, luxuriating in longer showers without an ounce of guilt.

Weeks go by before John leaves you alone at the store. He’s been making inventory trips to Ponderosa in the evenings to avoid it, but a beer shortage necessitates it. It takes convincing, but he eventually piles into his truck, waving a hand in departure. Manning the ship alone proves smooth sailing. Mostly.

You hear them before you see them. A trio of raucous voices and whooping laughter—sounds you and the lone female customer share a look at. She hustles to the counter just as three men burst in, shirtless, reeking of beer, and delightfully, blasting music from a phone. Plastering a smile to your face, you ring the woman up and watch her hurriedly exit before the men notice her. You wish you could follow.

The first man to spot you elbows his buddy, the clear ringleader. They make a show of browsing the aisles, tossing various items at one another, lobbing them over the shelves. As you pretend to be utterly engulfed in an old hunting magazine, you see them exchange smirks and obscene gestures in your periphery. They’re smart enough to keep whatever comments they make quiet, but your disinterest isn’t enough to deter them from their shopping. A couple of six-packs, chip bags, and energy drinks appear in view on the counter, covering the magazine and forcing you to finally acknowledge them.

“Hey babe,” The ringleader grins. “Sorry to interrupt your reading, but mind grabbing that apple chew for me?”

Disgusting, unsurprising, and dreadfully reminiscent. “Sure thing. ID for it and the beer?”

He forks it over with an indignant huff, his friends snickering. Unfortunately, Nash is of age. You turn and rise on your toes, only for a bolt of humiliation to surge down your spine at the sound of a low whistle.

You nearly fumble the tin, cheeks aflame, and you spin and slam it on the counter. The men laugh at your embarrassment, eyes lit up with booze and cocksure grins on their sunburnt faces.

Nash leans, encroaching on your space. The scuffed laminate makes for a poor shield. “You a local?”

“Yes.” You hiss out, terse.

The man on the left elbows Nash again. “Ooh, a country bumpkin.”

“More like a country pumpkin. You’re pretty cute, you know that?”

“Thanks.” You fly through checkout and reach for the chew. Nash’s hand flattens over it.

“Just trying to make conversation, Christ. What happened to smiling for the customers, baby?”

You force a painfully fake smile. “Can I ring you up for that? Or are you no longer interested?”

Nash straightens and sneers, voice booming louder and meaner. “Oh, I’m interested. Interested in what’s got your tits in a tangle.”

How quickly you shrink. You swallow, and a meek apology promptly slips out.

“That’s more like it. Jesus. Here.” He aggressively slides the tin to the scanner, and you finish the sale. He grabs the receipt roughly, too, crumpling it into a ball. As his friends tote their purchases out the door, he lingers, smirking when you meet his gaze. “I’ll see you later, babe. At close. Seven o’ clock, right?” He tosses the receipt over his shoulder as he leaves, calling for his friends as they climb into a Wrangler.

For the next hour, you stare at the door and grip the knife in your pocket. Only when a familiar truck pulls into its usual spot, do you relax. John rumbles out a greeting with a tired smile, fetching the dolly.

You can’t stop what spills out.

“Some creeps came by.”

John pauses inside the door, half-turning toward you with a confused expression. His eyes scan the air, then drop to his watch. Without looking, he reaches for the door sign and flips it to ‘Closed’.

“Right. Let me finish unloading, and then you tell me what happened.”

He’s irate, which is encouraging and refreshingly normal. Thankfully, he keeps it in check, but you see it in the set of his jaw and hard, focused stare as you recount what happened. Closing is a tense chore, one that passes quickly.

“Gonna make a call, then I’ll take you home.” He ducks out front, not offering a chance to refuse.

The call is brief. John beckons with a crooked finger within minutes. He locks up, and it’s in no time you’re parked outside the cabin. Fifteen minutes before your would-be suitor’s visit.

“Thanks, John. You didn’t have to do that.”

He waves off your words. “Nonsense. You won’t have to worry about somethin’ like that again. You’re gonna start accompanying me on inventory runs.”

Your brows raise. You won’t turn down weekly visits to Ponderosa. Aside from the diner, they have a library, and you’re out of books. “Really? But what about the store?”

“I’d rather close for a few hours a week than leave you alone.”

You’re keenly aware of all that John’s done for you. Tracking his favors and assistance in your head like a ledger. Finding your ID, fixing the light, helping with your car. Ferrying you about. It’s a helpful reference, tangible evidence that despite his faults and deficits, he is, on the whole, a good man.

“Will you stay for dinner? As a thank you for this and for the job?”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not. You’ve been nothing but good to me. I owe you.”

John looks pleasantly surprised. He kills the engine. “If you insist.”

Dinner is lackluster. You know it is. You’ve never been a cook, and you didn’t learn when you were thrust into the kitchen and told to prepare food. To host. No one taught you, and the cookbooks borrowed from the library or neighbors might as well have been written in a dead language. With time, you learned to coupon and to stock staples. That the basics kept the peace and deflected ridicule. And, above all, as long as meals are hot and served on time, nobody’ll complain.

It doesn’t stop you from hunching over the stovetop, overthinking simple biscuits and gravy. Feeling John’s eyes from the table. The biscuits are rushed, and the gravy’s nowhere near as rich as you’d like, but he polishes his plate clean. He only asks if you have a beer, and you have precisely one.

After, it’s the date all over again. Having found your way to the couch to chat, you’re overly conscious of your proximity to John. Your attention is torn between his story and wondering if you should be so close. How it feels wrong, traitorous. Still, you’re careful with active listening, encouraging him to speak and nodding appropriately. Yet, he calls you on it, pausing with a wry smile.

“I’m not boring you to death, am I?” He gestures at his face. “Got a dreamy look in your eye. Somethin’ on your mind?”

Yes. Something in your stomach, too, and it’s not just your abysmal cooking. It’s strange, the onset of butterflies. It’s been ages since you felt their flutter. You’re undecided if their reemergence is a good thing or not. Experience says it’s too soon to tell, but in the moment—

“This is nice.”

“Yeah?” His smile stretches, pleased.

You worry your lip. How to put it. “I don’t…host people. At least I haven’t in, um, a long time.”

“Since before…?” The ‘Coming here’ is silent. Implied.

“Yes, when I left—” The next word lodges in your throat, caught in a sieve. You lick your lips and push to your feet. The dishes need doing. You shouldn’t’ve sat without washing them.

John gives you several minutes, a mercy. You can blame the heat in your hands and face on the piping hot water and its steam. He reaches around you, turns off the tap, and steals the towel on your shoulder. His hands engulf yours as he dries them, then lifts both to his face to kiss each scalded knuckle.

“I don’t know where you came from, or who you might’ve left behind,” He murmurs, his timbre deep and inviting. “But I can be patient. You’ll tell me in your own time, won’t you.”

Your eyes are open right up until his mouth slots over yours. Body shaking until he touches you. His lips are a little chapped, and his beard tickles, but it’s nicer than expected. Practiced and unhurried. He waits until you melt and slump against the counter to press further.

His tongue is warm and heavy, gentle yet intrusive. He hums, mapping your mouth at his leisure. Taking you apart with a single muscle. Like he’ll find the answers he wants, wedged between your teeth.

“John.” You gasp as his palms find your waist and drift south. His thumbs tuck under the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles into skin. Your fingers curl over his chest, feeling his groan before you hear it.

“That’s it, say my name.” He encourages.

Your breathing grows embarrassingly loud and labored. He chases every whimper and hitch, his kisses turning hungry with teeth. Your jaw finds the ground when his hands slide down to cup and squeeze your ass, hauling your hips together. He lazily grinds against you, dragging his hardening cock across your thigh, into your crotch. He noses your neck, grunting. You think you might pass out.

Instead, you think of him. His mouth and his hands and his body. His words, his promises—

A dingy pawnshop.

Your fists unfurl and push, then brace for the worst. “John.”

He pulls away instantly, and you can hardly see the blue in his eyes. Beneath your palms, his chest shudders. Your heartbeat jumps. This is it.

“I’m—I’m sorry. I can’t.”

It’s gentlemanly, you think, his efforts to hide his disappointment. He lets it pass over his face and replaces it with an understanding look. “Alright.”

The warmth is unexpected and unfamiliar. You want to bask in it, but you shouldn’t.

“I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry. I’m not ready.”

His thumb traces the apple of your cheek. “Like I said. I can be patient.”

~~~~

The call comes after midnight.

“Yeah?”

The purr of an engine competes with Simon’s stolid voice. “It’s done.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Hour away.”

Good. A decent distance. “All of them?”

“Two, instantly. Soap’s climbin’ a fuckin’ ravine to see to the third. Impaled on a tree, poor bastard.” Simon chuckles. “No one’s gonna see the car ‘til morning, maybe.”

John doesn’t answer immediately. From what his rabbit said, there ought to be enough alcohol in their systems to make the crash convincing. Another group of pissants who made the tragic mistake of getting behind the wheel absolutely smashed.

“Sir?”

“Finish up, and take the long way back.”

“Understood.”

The call ends, and his thoughts return to his rabbit. His little prevaricator. He pulls up the feeds on the smartphone, tapping through cameras to ensure she’s alone. A smug smile spreads across his face at seeing her nestled in bed, coiled in a ball. She’s slept better these past weeks and hardly stirs when his dog makes his rounds. Possessiveness curls in his chest, though he can’t help but covet the empty space beside her.

One problem solved, another to go. She’s a clever thing, more resourceful and cunning than he initially assumed. Her reluctance would discourage him if he did not know better. It’s of no consequence in the long run.

He can sate his needs elsewhere for the time being.

#price x reader #price x f! reader #john price x f!reader #john price x reader #the warren

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lemon-popp · 5 months ago

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Spending time with the Sith: episode iii

Pairing: Qimir x Black! female oc

Warnings: swearing, NSFW smut (intense making out, fingering in the pool), fluff, mention of cancer and death. PROBABLY GRAMMAR AND TYPING ERRORS (not proof read)

Word count: 4,9k

masterlist

The sun has risen, the fiery ball shining its yellow hue through the length of the cave, giving it a dreamy glowy haze. The light creeps deeper in the cave, making its way to the bedroom in which Luna laid peacefully on her back. The wrapped messy bun that once sat atop of her head was now let loose due to the lack of a bonnet and her insufferable tossing and turning last night. Deep brown curls fell across her face and sprawled out against the pillow she used. As if her faced was framed by a chocolate cumulus cloud. Her body stretch out like a starfish, one leg hanging off the bed and out the duvet, the other bent like a hook. This was the best sleep she has gotten in a long time.

The planet's main light source finally reaches Luna's eyes, begging her to get up and start the day. She answers to nature's alarm clock with fluttering eyes, adjusting to the change of the darkness of behind her lids. A yawn escapes her as she stretches, a loud groan escaping her mouth. She was sure she had sleep marks littering her face as she sat up straight, immediately noticing the lack of presence of a certain someone. The spot next to her was vacant, Qimir no where to be found.

Luna furrows her brows with confusion, wondering if she illusioned him climbing into the bed last night. Conjuring the mahogany scent he carried after his bath in the pool. The warmth she felt radiating from him even though they were easily three feet apart. He was there. There's no doubt. Then why dd he leave?

Was I snoring? kicking him? Or worse...what if I stunk? I mean I haven't taken a decent shower since I was home.

Luna grimaced, lifting her arms up to take a shameful whiff of her pits. The smell wasn't awful, definitely manageable, but compared to his polished state last night it was probably way more noticeable. Luna cringed hard, noting that she must take a dip in that pool of his before being met with him again.

With one final stretch, Luna shimmies off the bed, lighting testing if she could put more pressure on her foot. Nope. The defeated girl sighs. Although she didn't want to admit it, hopping into the bedroom and changing clothes with one foot was a pretty demanding activity that she didn't want to go through for the rest of today. Especially with her helper randomly running off like this.

Luna's eyes scan his cluttered room, filled with various trinkets from different planets that gave the assumption of his being well traveled, searching for something to use to help her walk. After, a couple look throughs, her eyes catch something. A cane.

ha, gotcha

Luna hobbles her way to the wooden cane that leaned against the stone wall across from the bed. Dust littered the handle signifying its obviously very frequent use. The young woman slender fingers wrap around the handicap tool, feeling the smooth naturally carved ridges.

perfect

Luna leans on the cane, using it as a crutch to freely move herself about the stoned home, unbothered to change back into her tactical gear since she was alone apparently. Her short stature limped to the main room clad in her black tank top and matching shorts that rode up high on her plump butt.

Luna walks toward the stove, wondering if there was more of that soup to eat for breakfast. To no luck, the pot was empty causing a disappointed sigh to leave her lips.

i’ll make sure to ask for the recipe before i leave…if he ever returns

Her mind trails off of her growing hunger going back to the man that took her in yesterday. Where had he run off? How come he trusted her to be alone in his home. She could snoop. Steal his valuables.

Was he stupid? or did he just trust me?

“Trust is a strong word, young one,” Qimir’s deep, timber voice echoes off the walls into Luna’s not-so-sharp ears, causing her to jump. Her hand clutches at her chest feeling the race of her heart that thumps from being startled in such a way. Taking her time to catch her breath before processing what Qimir just said.

How did he-What? Did he just answer my question? How? How did he know?

Qimir smiles, with his signature smirk, from the entrance of the cave, his muscular arms crossing, taking in the girl’s confused face as her mind races. The man has been standing there for a while, watching Luna make her way to the stove in her undergarments that made her look ravishing. The black spandex shorts clinging onto the curve of her ass like a second skin. Ass that bounced gently with every crippling step she took. A part of Qimir. A rather large part, wants nothing more than to shove his face in it. But that wasn’t really appropriate at the moment.

So instead, he stood there broodingly, using the Force to read her mind. To gauge her true intentions. There was a an initial doubt in his mind when it came to her, that temporarily washed away with her (possible) ‘mom has cancer’ crying act. But the unsure feeling that was subdued quickly crawled back to the forefront of his mind upon waking up at the crack of dawn.

Qimir rushed out of bed, a strange feeling rumbling in his gut telling him to search the immediate area for possible jedi. He still believed this was a trap.

A girl this perfect. A heart so sweet, but careful fortified with fearlessness. A face and body that could entangle any man, woman or creature in a dangerous web. She’s too good to NOT be a trap.

After hours of trekking he found nothing. They were still the only ones on this planet, but he still had one more trick up his sleeve to find out her true reason for being here.

“I know. I just—that’s just how i felt,” Luna regained her composure with a grip on her cane, bringing Qimir back to the present. Instead of overthinking and coming up with impossible realities, Luna chalks up his strange statement to a recall of her sleepy words last night.

“I trust you” The words from the last night rushing back into her memory that Qimir reads.

If she was working with the Jedi she would know that he was reading her mind. Hell, she would even attempt to fortify her mind. Not give him easy access like an open book on a table.

Maybe she’s really not an enemy.

“Anyway, you bring any food back?,” Luna fills the silence with a large expecting smile. Hoping that he had returned with the ingredients to make that delicious goopy soup.

Qimir rolls his eyes reluctantly letting her brightness infect him. The way her lips curled into the smile, showing the straight teeth she had, it made his heart flutter. He reached into the bag he carried, grabbing a yellow banana to which he tosses across the cave in her direction, watching her stumble to catch.

“hopefully that’ll hold you over until dinner,” Qimir officially makes his way deeper into the main room. Dropping the bag that hung from his bouldery shoulders with a loud thud to the ground, taking a seat on the lonely chair. He gazed up at the woman in front of him who held the fruit in her grasp, clearly disappointed that this was all there was to eat.

“How’s your ankle?,” Qimir points his shoe covered foot towards her, motioning to her injury. Luna shakes her head slightly taking a bite from the banana.

“I don’t know. The pain keeps going in and out. It’s annoying,” The gorgeous woman sighs, clearly defeated. She wanted nothing more than to be better already and get her hell out of here.

Qimir takes in a deep breath hoping to ease the churning feeling in his stomach. Guilt rush over him from knowing that he could heal her with a quick graze of his fingers if he really wanted to. I mean, It’s not like he didn’t want to, the selfless part of him truly did want to. But his self-serving side overshadowed that thought.

If he were to share his power with her, it would require him to reveal who he really was. For her to accept him. To accept the arguably terrible things he’s done. To give him her trust. And for him to accept that trust.

He wasn’t ready to do that.

She’s just gonna have to wait until nature takes its course and heals her.

“You’ll be healed soon. I do have medicine,” The seated man swallowed trying to ease the sickening sensation that brewed in his stomach. Although he felt this way, Qimir did a successful job at acting cool and smug like usual.

Luna rolls her eyes at his nonchalant statement, heat rising from the passion of her chest to almond of her eyes.

“Soon?! I need to be healed now! She’s out there waiting for me,” She wailed with tears starting to stream out of her eyes, down the plump apples of her cheeks. Staining the brown porcelain skin of hers. Voiced quivering as her tone was now raised to a soft yell. Even when upset her voice still sounded sweet like a perfect jar of honey.

Qimir’s heart clenched, but he stayed silent. Unsure of what to do to help her. To soothe her. They meet each other’s eyes, sharing a look of sorrow before Luna’s suddenly becomes overcome with anger that is followed by her ‘storming’ towards the cave’s exit.

“And you’re off to?,” The powerful man’s eyes never left her, following her movements that seemed to be leaving.

Luna stops briefly.

“I’m gonna wash myself. care to join,” Her voice drastically less sweet than before now laced with malice as she spoke sarcastically, mocking his words from last night. It hurt Qimir at first, confusing him.

What did i do? I didn’t twist her ankle. Granted, i could heal her, but she doesn’t know that.

Thinking quickly, Qimir uses the Force to get into her mind once again. The words lingered in her head, feeling bad for the delivery but the statement holding true. She was on her way to take a dip in his ocean pool, hopefully to relieve herself from the intense emotions that filled her. Another statement held true as well. Well it wasn’t a statement but rather an invitation. Despite her awkward response to his inquiry last night, part of her wished she answered with confidence. That reflected what her body ached. So she mocked him. half doing it out of spite, the other genuinely open for him to join.

The ache that tortured Qimir eased upon acquiring this information. If she wanted him to join, he’ll join. It was the least he could do for her if he wasn’t going to heal her.

Qimir peels himself off the chair, sauntering his way to the same direction Luna has gone, immediately seeing her in the middle of the shore, back turned to him as she stared at the glistening blue water.

Luna begins with a drop of the cane, the thudding sound muted by the sand. Her delicate hands then grabs the bottom of her black tank, pulling it over her head. Her curls being ruffled even more with this action. Next were her black shorts which she climbed out of awkwardly, trying to avoiding damaging her foot even more.

The girl now stood bare. Only her backside unknowingly exposed to Qimir who stares unabashedly. Admiring the deep line that started between her defined shoulder blades and stopped right above the dimples of her back. Her ass even more perfect outside the shorts, so round and plump, like a nice pillow.

The extraordinary sight afar has a dramatic affect on our man standing ten feet away. All the blood that was used to function quite literally his whole body, rushed to his appendage that now strained against his briefs. He groans out quietly to himself to not disturb the clueless lady as he rubs the growing ache.

Luna feels the breeeze blowing against her nipples, causing her to shiver slightly before taking her first gentle, limping, steps into the water. The soft liquid wrapping around her like a warm blanket, her body melting into it, almost becoming one with the powerful element. Her eyes close, focusing on keeping her breathing steady to keep her emotions at bay. But not even this relaxing bath could help. Visions of her mom flashed through her mind. Visions of her worrying about Luna’s whereabouts. Worrying if her daughter was dead. The worrying ultimately worsening her condition, expediting the punch in date.

Luna’s chest tightens around her pounding heart, constricting the vital organ. Her throat closing slowly as if hands were clutching tightly to it. making it hard for her to breathe. Her head swaying from dizziness, until a large, calloused hand lands on her shoulder, pulling her back to the real world. Her breath hitches in the tight airway of her esophagus.

Luna’s head glances back at the hand that touched her, surprised that Qimir followed her especially after her tone. His towering presence burned behind her, a realization run through her mind that they were both bare. She wasn’t uncomfortable though by this realization though. Just surprised.

Qimir notes how her body slightly relaxes at his touch, fully expecting her to probably lash out again. He sighs, still seeing how her overthinking tormented her endless mind.

Sure he had no clue how it feels to go through a pain quite like this. To have a mother at all. Let alone a mother you’ve spent your whole life with who you’re about to lose.

Luna drops her head in defeat, letting drops of salty tears drop into the large cast of salty water as she cried silently. Qimir takes the opportunity to help her clean as her. His large hands cup together, gathering a pool of water to which he gently pours down her back, washing any grime that littered her deep skin. The water trickles down the line of her back. A line he desired to lick.

Qimir stood behind her. Decorated with perfectly carved muscles, strength used to kill anyone who cross him. However, the strength that was shown right now was his restraint.

Qimir has seen countless of women in a similar fashion. A fun past he did have indeed, but none of them had an effect quite like this on him. A woman suggesting anything remotely related to sex, he would pounce on her. Taking them quick and roughly, fulfilling his own pleasure. Although this was…different. Yes, he found her alluring, which was an understatement. He craved almost nothing more than to ruin her. key word being almost, what he craved more was taking care of her. protecting her.

His fingers massages her skin with his nimble fingers, starting at the nape of her neck climbing up to the curly thicket of her hair. His left hand takes a handful of her thick hair, making a makeshift ponytail to full expose the length of her neck. The other unused hand graze up her damp arm tantalizingly slow up to her shoulder, feeling her buttery skin on his tips.

The little action setting Luna’s skin on fire.

Qimir bends slightly at his waist, bringing his face next to hers, his pink lips centimeters away from the conch of her ear. Light breaths escapes his lips, breathes that make contact with her exposed neck. Her glossy eyes close to full take in his touch. To focus all of her senses on the gentle touch Qimir gave her.

“you will see your mom again,” Qimir’s deep voice vibrates into the shell of her ear, the affirmation soaring through her mind. A light smile grows across Luna’s face as she appreciates the reassurance, especially after just beating herself up minutes ago.

“you promise?,” She whispers with a rasp that resulted from how much she has been crying. Her eyes remained close fearing that once she’d open them her mind would go back to forging false realities of her mother. So Luna keeps them closed, opting for the relaxing touch of Qimir’s gentle but possessive grip on her.

do i promise??

In the very short time Qimir has known Luna, he has definitely grown to care for her. Even in his paranoia that she was a Jedi spy, he still took her in. Fed her. Offered his bed. Which terrified him. Caring for someone terrified him. Because caring led to betrayal. Caring leads to loss. it could lead to love…which, in his case, was a deep vulnerability. Him promising was a test, a test to see how far he’d go for her, how much he cared for this girl.

Qimir stayed silent to avoid answering, using the tips of his fingers that grazed down the side of her body to distract from the unanswered question. His large vascular hand untangles from her curls and breaks through the surface of the water, following the path of his other hand. His palms descend lower and lower down her body, feeling the deep curve of her waist, before landing on the protrusion of her round hips. The digits on his hand grip tightly, not one tight enough to cause the girl pain, but one that would require a skilled maneuver to escape.

Qimir twists Luna by this advantage point, forcing the beaut to now face him. A gasp emits from her lips, stumbling from the quick and sudden movement which inadvertanty send her falling into his chest. A fall that she breaks with gentle hands placed firmly on his defined chest. Feeling his hammering heart beat.

As her wet miniature hands made contact with his body, it was almost as if an electrical current punctured his heart and traveled down south. Inflating his cock. The hands that once had a gentle grasp on Luna’s hips to become much firmer as he pulled her lower half away from his growing appendage.

Luna's eyes climbs up the man’s upper body slowy, unabashedly taking her time to take in the detail of his olive skin and the scars that littered him. She wondered where they all came from, considering that he lives alone on this planet.

He probably hasn’t ALWAYS lived here, Luna. The man has a past.

The girl shoos off the thought, continuing her visual climb until she finally meets her destination. His eyes. His eyes that were already closed on her. Eyes that peered through his perfectly fallen strands of black hair that tickles her forehead. Eyes that were clouded, laced with a feeling way stronger than lust at the moment. Eyes that make Luna gasp.

Their eye contact doesn’t waver. Even with the fact that the water they stood idle in was crystal clear. Allowing a HD view to the others full front side. What Qimir’s v-line was pointing to underneath those black pants. Or the taut breasts that was covered by a flimsy tank top. Neither of their eyesight faltered. The passion and the intensity from the stare being more than enough for them.

Qimir gives her his infamous smirk, one that intimidates many, but was currently being used to hide the absolute control this woman has over him.

The left hand that was previously placed on her hip, was now under her jawline, his thumb caressing the silky skin of her face. Wiping the remaining streak of tears that stained her golden skin before placing his thumb flat on her pillowy full lips. Fighting to urge to part them, sticking it in, or anything else.

“Of all my years. You are the most beautiful woman i have ever met,” Qimir’s drops his voice down to whisper, as if it was a secret, as they literally weren’t the only two here right now. Similar to the affect of Luna’s touch on Qimir’s chest, The words the leave his mouth enters her hear and immediately reaches her womanhood which was already throbbing from the moment Qimir entered the pool. In an attempt to ease the pulsating, Luna squeeze her thighs together causing a soft moan to escape in turn before she could catch it.

“What do you say…when someone gives you a compliment?,” Qimir’s head dipped lower, finding the crook between Luna’s shoulder and neck and buring himself there. His breath tickling her with every spoken word. Dominance oozed out of him so naturally, dominance that lured Luna in like a worm to a fish. His pink lips first pressed gently on her thumping artery, laying continuous pecks up the length of her neck to her jaw, and across her cheek, just barely missing her lips.

He knows what he’s doing

“Than—Thank you,” Not only can Luna barely breathe, but apparently she could barely speak. Stumbling over her words once again like an idiot.

Qimir’s smiles grows, his control slipping completely out of his grasp due to her innocent stuttering. The wide gaze of her almondy eyes that sent him down a spiral and without hesitation he kisses her.

Their lips crashed into each other that the waves did in the distance to the rock shore. The feeling of Qimir’s lips on Luna made her lightheaded as he kiss with such vigor and experience. His hands gripping the back of her neck, keeping her in place as if she was trying to escape. Kissing him was a feeling like no other, a feeling she didn’t know she was missing out from all this time. The way his free hand caressed her body under the water, completely avoiding the places she deeply craved that he touch out of respect. The way he nibbled at her juicy lips and then licked them to soothe the pain. Luna was already fully at his mercy.

Qimir’s now busy hands, allowed for Luna’s hip to float freely in the water, which of course gravitates towards his body leaving no space inbetween. Their bodies clashed together, similar to their lips. Luna’s breast pressed tightly on Qimir’s brute pecs as she wraps her arms around his neck. Qimir’s cock know fully laid flat against her soft stomach, heat radiating off of him like a furnace.

The horny woman gasps at the feeling of his length on her, daring not to glance down to see just how big he really was. Instead using the sense of touch the feel how his base started at the top of her mound and the tip ended well above her belly button.

of course he’s big. i mean look at him. look at those arms.

His hands travel down the length of her back resting on the rounding of her ass as he grabs a handful with no warning. All while still devouring her stunning face.

Loud moans overtake what once was a quiet, relaxing evening as Luna’s body is sent into overdrive. Her skin burned as if gasoline was poured on her and she was sent to the sun. Her mind was foggy like and early morning in the forest, forced to only think about Qimir. She ached for him. She wanted him.

Luna breaks the kiss to flip around back to the position they started in. Qimir stands there partially upset at her abrupt ending of their make out sesh, but that quickly subsided when her plump ass push perfectly against his dick. A deep groan leaving his pink lips to let her know as such. He has the desire to insert himself from behind, taking her passionately in the water. But before he has the chance to, Luna grabs both of his hands, placing one of her full breast and the other on her throbbing mound.

Qimir’s eyes widened at the girl’s assertion, surprised that she had this confidence in her because the blabbering girl she was earlier didn’t show that one bit. His shock, however, faded away quickly, being replaced by determination. She had officially given him permission to touch her intimates. To fully please her. To claim her.

Qimir’s finger begin to work on the bundle of nerves down south. His middle finger drawing precise, agonizingly slow circles around her clit. Her knees buckle at his action, but it brought back up with a squeeze of her nipple.

“This is what you wanted pretty girl? For me to touch you like this?,” His teasing words makes her grind into his pleasing hand. She was already so close. So close to relieving all the aching she felt. Starting from the ache of her mother’s health, to the literal ache of her ankle, to the ache between her legs caused by a stranger she just met yesterday.

what am i doing? A doubting thought rushes through her head.

“You’re relaxing. Let me help you,” Qimir’s voices breaks through, answering her question once again. Her eyebrows furrow in wonder, mind completely unfocusing from the magical work going on under the water.

okay, once was a coincidence, but twice now? Something is up—

Luna’s thoughts were cut off abruptly by Qimir’s finger entering the hole that was already begging to be filled. He took his time inserting one finger, unsure of how far she was willing to take this and the amount of experience she had. A pleased squeal that escaped her lips give him reassurance as he continues to pump in and out, now using his thumb to rub her clit.

A knot formed in her stomach that was getting ready to snap, her precious moans growing louder and more frequent. Hands reaching to grab Qimir’s bulging biceps for balance.

“Q—Qimir. I can—i can’t. I’m cumming,” Luna buckles as an orgasm rips through her, tears running down her eyes, but this time not in sorrow. Her shaken body grows limp by the second, the grip she had on Qimir still lingered but very weak.

Their chests heave in unison, reeling from the events that had just occurred. Luna, finally able to catch her breath, stands dazed in the water with Qimir still wrapped around her. His single digit still inside of her warm cunt.

He didnt move. Still recovering from the hearing her angelic, heavenly moans. From how she placed his hands on her warm cunt and how she quivered under his touch. From the warm feeling of her wrapped around his finger, how he wanted nothing more than to feel her tightly hugging his cock that still throbbed for her.

The girl leaned her head back, resting gently on his chest with her eyes closed, her long eyelashes touching the top of her apple cheeks. She was in complete bliss and Qimir observes this, taking in the new glow this girl possessed. His heart swells knowing that he completed his task. He made her relax. He eased her mind.

Qimir slowly removes his lonely finger from her womanhood, afraid to disturb her from this pure state and lifts her up bridal style. A shocked sound leaves her as her body was now fully out the water, exposed to the breezy air, but Qimir pays no mind. His eyes stay trained on hers as he walks them towards the shore, neither of them speaking a word, a comfortable silence fillings the air as he wades through the water.

The couple finally reach the shore to which he gracefully places Luna down, avoiding her hurt foot. The sun was near set, golden hour doing its work on the gorgeous man that stood in front of her. The water no longer a barrier, his sculpted body was now in full display, the orange sun defining every shadow of his abs, the veins of his arms and the monsterous size of his dick.

that was what was underneath the water?!

The flutters start to make a return, but are quickly pushed to the side.

don’t get greedy now. this was just a one time thing. he probably only did it out of sympathy anyway.

Qimir reaches behind him, grabbing a cream robe that was laid out neatly on a nearing boulder. He opens the linen fabric towards Luna’s direction, offering to put it on for her. Her eyes meet his. The dark clouds that once lived in his irises vanished, replaced with a genuine softness that makes her feel…safe.

She turns around accepting his offer and he slides the thin material over her arms, bringing it to hang at her shoulders. His fingers tickling her skin the entire time, His breath lingering at her neck.

Luna takes over the finishing touches of tying the robe and in the meantime, Qimir wraps himself in one of his own. They both matched. Except one was perfectly fitted, tailored made and the other one extremely oversized. The sleeves ended way past her hands and then hemmed end nearly went over her knees. She looked like a nun.

Luna turns around to face Qimir with a smile and a funky pose, modeling the unique fitting robe. A laugh brewing in his chest at seeing how his clothes swallowed her whole. A laugh that is stifled, offering a humorous smile instead.

“Okay, let’s get you inside. I can hear your stomach growling,” Qimir shakes his head at the girl as he wraps him muscular arm around her waist to help her back into the cave.

episode iv

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ninibeingdelulu · 5 months ago

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Hidden ✧

Plot: You’re the president’s daughter he came to rescue, and you both need to hide in a small hole.

A/N: the president’s daughter reader is back y’all yeahhh

As your frantic footfalls echoed through the derelict cabin's dimly lit halls, Leon's calloused grip clamped vice-like around your wrist.

Forcibly dragging your stumbling frame towards a promising crevice of safety tucked along the far interior wall.

In one fluid series of motions, he shoved you into the musty shadows of that nook before barricading the open space with an ancient wardrobe wedged against the crumbling sheetrock.

Effectively sealing you both inside that makeshift sanctuary from whatever evil forces still lurked beyond those creaking timbers...

"Stay low and keep those pretty lips zipped if you know what's good for you," Leon's gravelly baritone hissed out mere inches from your face through the suffocating blackness enveloping your curled forms.

Just the thought of whatever merciless terrors he was willing to unleash in order to uphold this mission's integrity sent a tremulous shiver rattling through your shoulders to silently obey.

Until that spoiled, entitled nature of yours simply couldn't resist one final petulant sigh of displeasure over the cramped captivity.

"There's barely any room at all to-"

Before you could finish that complaint, a single broad palm slammed over the part of your lips while his forearm pinned you firmly against the damp wall.

Body caging yours in as the former RPD officer issued a scathing reprimand on a rough whisper skimming along your jaw.

"Shut up if you want to live, princess ..."

Within the next breath, you were being hauled up against his rock-solid frame until your backside suddenly landed against the cradle of those corded thighs wrapped around your waist.

Heat instantly prickling under your cheeks at such scandalous proximity to those taut muscles bulging beneath his battle-worn fatigues.

"What are you doing ?" you indignantly mumbled against the leather-scented palm still locked over your gasping mouth as Leon shifted and adjusted your positioning atop his bunching arousal trapped beneath those cargos.

"Just giving you what you wanted, princess..." he rumbled out on a hissed breath fanning your hairline. "More space to wiggle that restless body around in without blowing our cover entirely."

In a true testament to Leon's pragmatic stoicism, he simply pulled your squirming form flush against his torso once more.

Then wrapped one solid appendage around your ribs to silently signal he'd tolerate no further fussing over the matter.

Crossing your arms with an indignant huff, you were left silently stewing about the fact that at least in this shadowed intimacy...he wouldn't be able to witness the furious bloom of crimson staining your cheeks at such close proximity.

But of course, your pins-and-needles started kicking in from supporting all your weight on those throbbing legs less than a minute later - leaving you fidgeting ceaselessly to find a more comfortable position once again.

A deep, guttural hiss of air sliced past your cheek as Leon's rock-hard abdominals spasmed beneath your restlessly shifting weight - only realizing belatedly that your churning rear end kept grinding against the rapidly swelling ridge suddenly tenting the front of his heavy-duty garments.

Instantly freezing in shock when you craned your neck up to search those inscrutable features hovering just overhead...

Without warning, a powerful hand was cupping the nape of your skull while calloused fingertips threaded sharply through your tangled locks to jerk your focus frontwards again.

"Don't move. A muscle" came his sandpaper growl against your temple - syllables nearly lost amidst the roaring drumbeat pulsing beneath your own frantic pulse points as your thighs instinctively clenched around his.

Too shaken to disobey, you simply swallowed back your shuddery gasps and meekly nodded.

Practically tasting those electrifying waves of primal aggression rolling off his hulking frame while he waged whatever internal war against himself.

Close enough in the darkness for the heat gusting from his flaring nostrils to fan across your cheeks in tandem with each strained exhale.

And then...there was nothing but bristling tension coiling tighter and tighter between your suspended forms until even Leon's very bones seemed to thrum with it - scarcely allowing either of you to cycle air into your lungs.

At least until the droning swarm beyond your flimsy barricade quieted for more than a few minutes' respite, signaling your opportunity to extract yourselves from this debauched tangle of limbs.

"Break’s over, ...use your feet and shove that dresser out of the way."

Leon finally ground out once that punishing grip eased from the back of your skull.

"We need to get moving before I give those freaks an even bigger reason to hunt us down."

Bobbing a rapid nod, you braced your calves against the barrier until it gave way enough to slither back outside into the fading twilight hues.

Every breath hitching raggedly into your constricted lungs as the dark, woodsy scents finally chased away the aroma of leather and gunpowder consuming your senses.

From there, Leon slipped back into that hardened survivalist on autopilot - all traces of those searing undercurrents wiped clean from his expression save the barely perceptible flush tingeing those razor-etched cheekbones.

So you had no choice but to fall back in step behind his long, purposeful strides guiding you deeper into the night's embrace without so much as sparing you a sidelong glance this time.

"Come on, princess...we lost enough time back there." His signature endearment for you practically snarled out with customary disdain.

"The rendezvous coordinates aren't getting any closer dawdling around like this."

Rolling your eyes, you simply complied in silence with those unspoken orders.

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marigoldenblooms · 8 months ago

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Unica Semper Avis - Chapter 1

Pairing: Cleric!Wanda x Fem!AvianShifter!Reader x MonsterHunter!Natasha

Prompt: Ever since you’ve come of age, you’ve never been able to stop yourself from transforming into a monster. Whenever the sky would dim with a New Moon, you’d ravage the world with a fury unknown by many. Such is the bane existence of your species. This time, however - something was different. Now, you need help. On the feeble doorstep of the so-called ‘Spirit Healer,’ you found yourself both at the mercy of a cleric, and of a monster hunter’s blade. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

MINORS DNI - 18+

TW/General Tags: No mention of Y/N, slow burn, stranger to lovers (Wanda), enemies to lovers (Natasha), eventual smut (lord have mercy), Swearing, Fantasy violence, occasional descriptions of light body horror during transformation, slight self harm, slight restraint, angst, fluff, will add tags as they appear!

Chapter Warnings: Angst, canon-level violence, use of medieval weapons, body horror description in transformation, magic use, slight dissociation/self harm, restraint, fluff (for five seconds), R is a simp, so is W, N is not here to play, etc.

A/N: I’ve been working on this next chapter ever since the previous. Chapter two is coming along quickly as well! I want to keep a bit of a backlog for my longer fics, so updates will be as frequent as I can manage. The name established in this chapter for R will be used sparingly, but I loved what Missmonsters2 did with Between the Lines when I read it months ago, and thought it’d be pertinent until nicknames/pet names are established (and for as long as I can avoid conversation where names are necessary).

R’s monster form brought to you by bearded vulture inspiration! Feel free to imagine your own version of avian horror to your heart’s content. Enjoy, y’all!

Word Count: 3.1k - Read Length: 11 minutes, 18 seconds. Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners!

~~~ The healer’s home was nothing short of overwhelming.

Multi-colored knick-knacks were strewn on every surface, perched below gatherings of drying, braided flowers which hung from the rafters. Beneath your feet, woven rugs of alternating sizes dotted the cabin’s cool wooden floors, like islands between a chilled sea of timber. The front door lead further into a sitting room, offering glimpses into a small, quaint looking kitchen, adorned with a single well-worn table and chair. Within that same place, a large pot was held still on the counter by wisps of scarlet magic, another more opaque plume coaxing a wooden spoon to stir whatever was inside.

Paintings hung along every wall, although you could never get a full glance at one, as though they’d subtly shift and change muses whenever you’d look away. The sound of a shutting door would heighten your senses enough to break from the scenery, turning on your heels to face the home’s owner once again. She’d pry at you with a half-smile, and you’d solidify your gaze at the floor before her eyes could have the chance to meet yours.

“What brings you to my home?” She’d question evenly, her words a pleasing rasp- smooth molasses which could easily cloud your senses if you allowed her to. You’d see her form move to the side of you in your peripheral, yet you’d remain still, your stare continuing to bore a hole into her carpet.

Wordlessly, you’d tug at your shawled sleeve to show the back of your arm. Running along the skin’s expanse were thin ridges, pin feathers prickling beneath taut flesh. A light down speckled your skin in odd patches, consolidated mostly on your neck and shoulders for now. Your hair had begun to fleck and grow waxy and silkish, akin to dense ostrich feathers, tousled from your trek to her abode. You’d watch the ground as her shadow would shift around you, a curious tsk showcasing her intrigue.

You wouldn’t see her raised expression, eyebrows furrowed as she’d take your wrist without warning, raising it up so she could see the indentation better in the light. She’d drop your arm as soon as she’d grabbed it, falling limply to your side, and her smooth voice would threaten to carry you off again. “Fascinating..your affliction isn’t something I’ve seen recently.”

“Can you help?” You’d mumble, the few phrases coming to you sounding choked from lack of use, and you could hear the healer’s grunt at your lackluster response. You’d swallow thickly, trying to find the words to explain all that you were, but none arrived. She’d circle around you once more, and before you could flinch away, would capture your chin between her thumb and forefinger, wrenching it to make you look at her- green irises narrowing as you’d shut yours, unwilling to look her in the eye. You’d half expect her grip to be cold like the Matron’s, but her touch’s pleasant warmth was something you almost missed as she’d let go of you, the shuffle of her arms crossing heightened behind your closed eyelids.

“I can’t help a patient I can’t trust,” She’d muse with a teasing lilt, rolling her r’s in a way that made your chest flutter. Was this another symptom of your molt? It had been a long time since you’d been with another and the thought made your heart ache, albeit not more than your bones. “Why won’t you look at me?”

The scoff that came in response to her was almost too easy, opening your eyes after directing your head to the floor again, “Because I am no threat to you.” “And why would I assume that?” She’d retort immediately, and you’d glare into the ground. Why was talking so easy for her? Why couldn’t she understand that you weren’t like her? You’d raise your arm aloft again, the skin burning now as you’d twist the plumage under your flesh for her view. The rage that had been festering in you for days unlocked a torrent of your words, finally finding purchase in your mouth- frustration evident in how each phrase was ripped from your throat. Your larynx would be useless beyond a breathing tool soon, so you better use it now. Your nails clawed at your arms, doubling into yourself, “Because you are human and I am not, healer- is that not something you’re able to understand-?!”

“Relax for me-” she’d grit, and you’d feel your stomach plummet at her words. Something in them begged obedience, and for a second you felt as though you were back in your nightmare. You’d twitch, glance immediately circling the ceiling as something would restrain you- thin tendrils of crimson magic, keeping your arms from flaring out at your sides. As if seeing your frustration, your panic, the healer’s sorcery would calm, soothing both your body and your mind into an unnatural lull. “You’re…using-” you’d begin, yet words would evade you once again, no longer fueled by anger. There was only a different feeling- regret, and uncomfortable stone in your stomach that you shied away from, wanting to cower from its weight. You didn’t like yelling at this woman, even as she cradled you with her witchcraft.

You’d feel her heat again, warm hands placing tentative touches to your shoulders, slowly coaxing your glance to hers. “I’m sorry,” she’d breathe, shallow as you’d feel her palms shake against you, “I didn’t want you… to hurt yourself-” Her irises, blooming with clouds of red, would drain into green as you’d feel her magic loosen around your body like unraveling ropes. You wouldn’t shy away from her this time, panting as her gaze would share her soul with you. She, too, held that stone in her gut. Perhaps she didn’t fear you.

You’d part as her back would stiffen, adding a few feet between the two of you. “What is your name?” She’d ask, and you saw the way her head tilted since you looked at her face. Your words came easier now that you were less tense, muscles losing their rigidity, and yet you didn’t have an answer for her. You still pried into her windows, eyes flicking across the expanse of her garden from the view you could get from her living room, but it was a start. “I met your gaze, healer..I’ve done my part, you first.”

You’d see the way her nose crinkled at your response, flecks of mirth illuminating her expression, a grin finding its place there, “Talking now, are we? I’m Wanda.” “I’m..Margo.” In truth, you hadn’t had a name in years, the few decades you’d been alive focused more on survival than memory, especially when your molts made it difficult to discern who you really were- humanoid or avian. You’d forgotten your birth name ages ago, and it was a blessing that your words left your mouth as cleanly as they did. She’d tut at your response, taking it in as satisfactory, “Sure…Margo. Would you like to sit down?”

Wanda would guide you to her kitchen table without much fanfare, settling you on her single chair. With a focused look and a wave of her hand, however- a duplicate would reveal itself from a cloud of scarlet mist. “Your magic is red?” You’d inquire, tilting your head as you’d seen her do, “It’s a violent color. Why is that?”

“Do you really want to toe that line?” Her phrase were humorous, yet you swear a flash of indignation peppered her visage. You were not going to mess with that line, whatever she meant by that. “No, Wanda.” She smiled at that, her name seemingly pleasing in your mouth. You felt the flutter in your chest again, heart drumming a little faster against your shifting ribcage. If this was a sign of your incoming succession, then you had to finish this fast- to return before you transformed in Wanda’s house. And yet, why was the feeling almost pleasant?

“You said you haven’t seen my ‘affliction’ in a while,” You’d recount, finding her term for your molt unremarkable. You’d offer her a glimpse of your arm again, hesitating to touch the quills beneath. It was always tender before a lunation, and you didn’t want to aggravate the transformation further, “It doesn’t normally happen so soon. In hours before the new moon, maybe- not over days.”

“And what happens after those hours?” She’d coax your arm down with a gentle wave, seeing how your movements grew stiff as your skeleton hollowed out. You shrug, “I transform.” Wanda’s expression would sour, yet curiosity prickled underneath. Why did she look at you like that? “Can you help me? You said you're familiar with my kind.”

“..In truth, I’ve never met someone like you,” She’d murmur, expression bashful, and if the circumstances were different you would’ve taken it as a compliment. Instead, spiked embers of dread seared in your stomach, heart beginning to thrum in your ears. She didn’t know. Could she even help you? Her voice would raise a little louder, “However, if you tell me about yourself, perhaps I could figure it out.” With a twirl of her fingers, two cups of..something floated towards the table. Her gaze was an offer, “Thirsty?”

You’d nod, your throat suddenly dry. The drink was smooth and warm, with a bite of something fresh and crisp. It was much better than your rainwater. Gulping more of it down, you notice how she’d smile at your eagerness, careful not to spill as you’d raise the cup from its saucer. “Cider,” she’d mention, motioning to her mug, “Where are you from?” “My cavern is far from here. About half a day’s walk.” Wanda’s eyebrows would raise. “Cavern? You live in a cave?” Her interest was a delight, and you wanted to keep it for as long as you could. You didn’t answer her question, instead throwing one back at her, “Why do you live far from your town?”

“Bellmoor?” Amusement would blanket Wanda’s expression, snorting as she’d shake her head, twisting in her chair so she could lean forward towards you, “Because I like my peace and quiet. I assume the same for you, Птичка?”

“What does that mean?” You’d ask, and she’d tut again. “Now now, that can be your next question, but it’s my turn.” She’d scrunch her nose at your grumbling acquiesce, and you couldn’t help but smile with her. You liked this game. Wanda rested her hands on her table, and your eyes were caught on the shimmer of her rings as she’d speak, “Can you control your transformation?” That one was easy. “Fuckin’ wish I could...” Wanda’s brows would reach her hairline at your curse, but you wouldn’t give her time to comment as yours would stream from your maw, though it’d stop early, “No Aegypius can. What does..”

“‘Птичка’ mean?” She’d grin, rasping her knuckles on the wooden grain at each syllable, “Little bird, birdie, you have feathers underneath your skin, yes?” You’d send her a taunting look, one that she met in equal measure. You’d smile back at her, “Is that your question?”

Wanda would balk, gotten so caught up in teasing you that her words just tumbled out with no direction. You’d see her cheeks grow pink, clearing her throat with a stuttered breath, and you swear she felt like you did when you felt that flutter. “No, it isn’t-” She’d respond smoothly, but you caught how her eyes shimmered, and you took another sip of cider. You knew why when her words made your mind double-take, “Would you like to stay with me tonight?”

You almost spit out your drink, coughing on it as you’d sputter, blush alighting your face. You felt it warm and you tried to hide it away, your flustered reaction seemingly pleasing Wanda. She certainly didn’t know what that meant to you, “I..you want me to stay with you- I’m going to molt tonight, Wanda.”

“And if I am to help your transformation, then I must see it in person,” She’d respond, never losing her smile. It soothed you, that richness in her tone and that calm in her expression, and you’d feel a new pull in your heart. One you hated.

Your instincts wanted you to ruin her. Wanted her vulnerable as she was, to splinter her bones into shards you didn’t even have to chew.

To take advantage of her weakness, your hunger eating you alive unless you picked her clean, consumed-

You’d swallow, a shaky breath leaving you. Wanda had blinked, and your voice acted quicker than your mind would comprehend, “I don’t want it helped, Wanda. I want it gone.” You’d feel your skin itch at that, and a cold dread filled your gut, like the Matron’s chill held you once again. Your words were a whisper. “But I don’t think my body will let me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay. Do you have anything that helps you calm down?” She’d ask, leaning forward with a gentle lilt. Her hand would’ve come across the table, offering her palm to yours. It was calloused, warm skin juxtaposed with smooth metal, and you took it in yours gratefully. You were starting to really like her company.

------------------------------------------

The hours would’ve floated by you, a subtle bliss filling you as you and Wanda would’ve enjoyed the rest of your evening together. You could feel your body shift by the hour, and yet a part of you didn’t care if you were with her. You’d show her your chains, mentioning their unknown inscription and how they’d keep your form….distracted. You would be kept in the barn once the moonless night had begun, the sky within a period of tranquil dusk. She ghosted her hand across the rim of your shackles, and you were surprised they didn’t burn her like they did you. An Aegypius trait, you supposed.

Wanda had made you stew using that pot from earlier, while you hovered in the vicinity, chopping up carrot and onion into more manageable pieces. The meal was finished after it had boiled for a long time, and it was only when you sat down to enjoy it with her that a blink of movement would catch your eye. The bay windows curved in a beautiful shape that let the last vestiges of light in, and you’d register the sight of silver metal piercing into the glass before you heard it smash.

A figure leapt through its shattered remains, thick cloak blanketing their form to protect them from the glass. Their armor and longsword was polished beautifully, and they would be regal if it wasn’t for their war shout and barred teeth. You could see their face beneath their hood, just before the glint of their weapon as it’d slice down towards your chest.

You’d dodge, rushing backwards until your back hit the other end of the wall. As the longsword would finish its downward arc, Wanda’s magic would cradle its blade, her hands outstretched and bent as if trying to push it up. Her voice was strangled and thin, heard between the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears, “run, Margo- go!”

Turning to bolt, you’d hear the clatter of boots against wood as a rougher hand would grab you by the scruff of your neck. Writhing in their hold, you’d shove your elbow into the ribs of your attacker, before grabbing their hand from your nape to sink your teeth into it. “Fuck, you гриф-” The knight’s heavy breath was audible from behind your back. You’d bite harder, feeling their skin break beneath your jaw as you’d thrash, trying to cleave flesh off. They’d tear their hand from you, kicking your legs with a force that sent you barreling down.

Your head would hit the hardwood floor, and you could hear the ringing in your ears as you’d look up, vision swimming as everything looked double. Your hooded attacker brandished their longsword with two hands above you, although it looked like they had four. Before they could stab the blade downward, Wanda’s hand would lurch out to their neck- pressing the kitchen knife into their throat as her other palm would scratch towards the knight’s eyes, the pair barreling backwards which left you an outside view that made your pupils retract into pinpricks.

The sky was dark, illuminated with bright swaths of stars. Tears pricked at your eyes. The few treetops you saw couldn’t even reach its height, blanketing the world in an awaiting gloom. You knew the moon was out there, but you couldn’t see it. Your mind reeled, thoughts growing famished as you’d stare into its expanse. You licked your lips. The sky offered you reprieve, and who were you to deny its feast?

The wheezing pop of bone into stronger sockets would startle Wanda and her assailant into a tense standoff, your witch pinning the stranger to the floorboards while the knight tried in vain to grasp at their longsword that had been kicked many feet away. Your breath heaved with strength you hadn’t felt before, seizing as the voice that came from you was no more than a guttural hiss. Your skull would reshape, mouth widening into a curved beak, hooking into serrated edges, while your skull would become angular, bird like. Anything but human, you were no longer recognizable. Feathers would blanket the creature’s shifting musculature, tearing from roughened skin as they’d fan into shape. Its arms and legs grow as its fingers would lengthen, bat-like wings creaking before they’d be covered in plumage; ivory white on it’s neck and shoulders, cascading into darker blacks and blues elsewhere. The monster’s feathers wouldn’t remain unpigmented for long, as they’d begin to warm on its skin- sparks flying from where they touched, growing into a burnt umber. The beast would groan as its wings crashed to the floor- bipedalism was no longer an option, the force cracking the wooden boards. Horns would thunder from shaking its monstrous head, the beast’s eyes blinking into pale gold with a crimson ring surrounding them. A black line of feathers ran down the side of its face and to its gaping maw, tufted at its chin. Its feathers had heated into shades of orange, flecked with flame- while cyan speckled where its temperature had reached an apex.

Silence would still the room, the shaky inhale of breath marking the presence of living beings in it’s fray. The demon would blink again, a gnashing sound emanating from inside its cavernous beak. It’d then raise itself on its haunches, spread its twelve meter wingspan (shattering the walls in its wake), and echo a deafening, reverberating call into the night.

The hunt had truly begun. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

~~~

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thebekerslegecy · 3 months ago

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👑 MEDIEVAL MODS + CC | The BEKER LEGECY

I am currently playing Morbid’s ULTIMATE Decades Challenge. Below is a list of all of the Mods + CC I am using in my game🐝

🍯 MODS: Wicked Whims (+18)MC Command CenterMC WoohooMore Traits in CASRoyalty ModMedieval InteractionsYe Olde Cookbook + Stoves +Fires Require Wood + Hunting & Foraging ModHome Region +Townie Demographics by Kuttoe Fashion Authority 2 by Lot51 Functional BroomFunctional LoomFunctional Pottery WheelArchery SkillBlacksmithing SkillHistorical Simolean Override - English ShillingsChildren/Toddlers Can Die of Anything Playable Harp + LuteFunctional Horses & Carriages, No HelmetCreate Campfire Bonfire AnywhereArranged MarriagesCustom Farm AnimalsPurchase Custom AnimalsZero’s Historical Mods (pickpocket, disease, etc.) Phone to Notebook ReplacementSippy Cup + Toys Default ReplacementsStuff for PetsNatural Knitting StuffPreTeenLittleMsSam Mods ( Pick what you want) Sims4me

🐝 CC:

🍯Build:

TSR Ye Medieval - Ligna Windows SetTSR Ye Medieval - Timber Frame WallsTSR Ye Medieval - Framework WallsTSR - Broken Wood DoorTSR Ye Medieval - Soil TerrainTSR Ye Medieval - Hay Ground Terrain

🐝Objects:

Lili’s Palace - Folklore Set No. 1Linzlu’s Frontier ItemsTSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 1TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 2TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 3TSR Ye Medieval - Peasant Homelife 4TRS Ye Medieval - Tristan BathroomTSR Ye Medieval - Tavern Part 1TSR Ye Medieval - Candle HolderTSR - Skara StoolTSR - The Old Garden BoatTSR - The Old Garden QuayFish Market DecorFish RackFish Crate V1Fish Crate V2Bohrium Vegetables IOld Rustic Well (“Eco Living” version) Stable Set by MorielRustic Animal ShedRustic Chicken CoopRustic Bee BoxBassinet + Infant CribSimsHistoricalfinds tumblr (directory)SIMS 4 MEDIEVAL CCTheSenseMedievalAllhistorical cc tumblrMedieval & Fantasy Mods List | NotionKosmic Hippie's CC Finds — 👑 MEDIEVAL MODS + CC | The Sims 4antiquated plumbobs : Directory CC Finds Navigation

🍯CAS:

TheSimsResource (Ye Medieval) TheSimsResource (Sifix) Simverses Melancholy Maiden | creating Historical Sims 4 CC | Patreonsatterlly | creating The Sims 4 CC | Patreon

🐝 SAVE FILE:

Srsly’s Blank SaveMap Replacement Medieval WindenburgMedieval Map Replacement

🍯MY SIMS 4 MEDIEVAL WORLDS:

How to change sims4 world names (for existing save)How to change sims4 world names ( for new save)

Kingdom of France – Willow Creek’ Mali Empire – Oasis Springs’ Kingdom of Norway – Newcrest’ Inca Empire – Granite Falls’ Holy Roman Empire – Windenburg’ Kingdom of Denmark– Magnolia Promenade’ Republic of Genoa – San Myshuno’ Kingdom of Hungary – Forgotten Hollow’ Grand Duchy of Lithuania – Brindleton Bay’ Aztec Empire – Selvadorada’ Kingdom of Sicily – Del Sol Valley’ Ottoman Empire – StrangerVille’ Hawai’i – Sulani’ Kingdom of Scotland- Glimmerbrook’ Duchy of Milan – Brightchester’ Maya city-states – Evergreen Harbor’ Tatooine– Batuu’ Goryeo– Mt. Komorebi’ Kingdom of England – Henford-on-Bagley’ Republic of Venice– Tartosa’ Duchy of Burgundy – Moonwood Mill’ Kingdom of Aragon – Copperdale’ Mongol Empire – San Sequoia’ Mamluk Sultanate – Chestnut Ridge’ Kingdom of Ayutthaya – Tomarang’ Kingdom of Castile - Ciudad Enamorada kingdom of Moldova - Ranvenwood

#MyCCList #1300s #decades challenge #historical challenge #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 historical #sims 4 legacy #ultimate decades challenge #THEBEKERLEGACY #the1300s

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chvoswxtch · 2 years ago

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carnal desire

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: after a long night defending hell's kitchen, matt seeks a release within you.

warnings: swearing, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 3k

a/n: all of the warnings. every single one of them. all the kinks. this was purely me going feral over the black suit of sin. i refuse to apologize. happy sinning. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Any trace of guilt Matt felt about slipping through your window in the middle of the night vanished the second the purity of your scent enveloped him. The steady rhythm of your heart had lured him in like a siren’s song, and even though he could tell from three blocks away that you were deep beneath the blanket of sleep, he’d made up his mind that he would ask for your forgiveness later.

Matt carefully shut the window that you left unlatched just for him, keeping his footsteps light as he followed the familiar path from the living room to your bedroom. Removing his gloves from his hands, his fingers twitched at his sides sensing the soft silk slip that covered your body. His favorite. Matt had gotten it for you as a gift, and you had gone out and bought it in several more colors claiming it was the softest thing you had ever worn. Your skin was incredibly soft as it was, but covered in the fabric of silk…God that was something else.

Toeing his boots off by your door, he silently snuck around the bed to perch on the edge of it, removing the cloth mask from his face to set on your nightstand. He allowed his fingertips to trail faintly along from the top of your shoulder down to your wrist languidly, repeating the path in the opposite direction as he felt you begin to stir. He should feel bad about waking you up at such an hour, knowing you had to be up early for work, but his carnal desire couldn’t be tamed tonight, and the Devil wanted his fill.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

Matt brushed his lips along the shell of your ear as he whispered, starting a trail of open mouthed kisses along your jawline. The feeling of his coarse facial hair tickled slightly, and even subconsciously, you leaned into his touch. Matt smiled to himself at this, always loving the way your body reacted to him. It filled him with a sense of pride and power, knowing only he could elicit that kind of reaction from you. He lightly grabbed your face in his hand to turn it more towards himself, leaning in to bump his nose against yours before placing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Come on, angel. Wake up for me.”

The labor of your breathing became lighter, signaling to him that he had gotten through to you. As you began to slowly wake up, you felt a blaze of warmth cradling your face, and realized the velvet timber of Matt’s voice wasn’t just echoing in your dreams; he was here. Blinking a few times, Matt’s shadowed form suddenly came into focus, and you instinctively grabbed onto his wrist.

“Matty?”

“Hi, pretty girl.”

Letting your eyes adjust to the darkness, you sat up slowly to face Matt, trying to get a good look at him with the aid of the glowing moonlight filtering in through your curtains. He didn’t appear to be in bad shape that you could tell, and his face was surprisingly free of blood and bruising. Placing your palm on his chest, a slight shiver ran through you feeling the heat coming off his body beneath the thin black athletic shirt he wore. As much as you wished he would wear something that could actually protect him from harm, you couldn’t deny how goddamn good he looked in the black outfit he wore. The shirt and pants clung to his body like a second skin, shaping every outline and ridge of muscle in his chest, showcasing his strong arms and powerful thighs, and curved perfectly around that glorious ass of his.

“I’m not hurt.”

There was a somewhat playful smile gracing the corner of his mouth, but the Devil was still nestled in his voice. Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him, trying to figure out which version of your boyfriend was sitting in front of you right now.

He slowly tilted his head to the side, most likely picking up on the increase in speed of your heart rate. He still held your face in his palm, staying quiet for a moment as he trailed the pad of his thumb along the entirety of your bottom lip.

“But I wouldn’t have woken you if it wasn’t important.”

“I don’t mind when you wake me up, you know that.”

Whatever remorse might have been swimming around in his conscience disappeared with those words. He loosened his hold on your face, only to let his hand fall slowly down the column of your neck, keeping his fingers loose and his hand open as he placed his palm flat against your sternum. He always gave you an option to say no before he let himself loose.

“Good girl.”

A quiet gasp slipped past your lips, and suddenly you were wide awake. You knew exactly who was sitting in front of you right now, and exactly what he wanted.

“What do you need, D?”

Matt cherished that the two of you knew each other so well, that words weren’t always needed. Sometimes he struggled to find the right ones, but you still knew what he meant anyway. You could read him almost as well as he could read you.

“You, angel. Always you.”

The aroma of your arousal beginning to leak between your thighs had him inhaling deeply, letting out a low growl that went straight to your core. His fingers began to coil around your delicate neck, trying his best to keep the Devil at bay until you granted him the key to unlock his chains.

“Then take me. I’m yours.”

God had never answered a single one of his prayers, but you always did, and you were the one thing the Devil and the man seemed to agree on worshiping.

Although you never voiced it outloud, you sensed that Matt had figured out just how much you enjoyed it when he let the mask of the charming Catholic lawyer slip and showed you the side of himself he usually only reserved for the wicked that lurked in the shadows. Matt was an exceptionally attentive lover, and your needs were always fulfilled, sometimes more than you could handle. But when he let the darker side of him take over…when he gave in completely to the Devil inside him and really lost control…well that’s when you and the Devil both got to have your fun.

Sex with Matt when he was in this headspace was usually hard and rough, not that you minded the slightest. He seemed to be hellbent on testing your limits, and you were more than willing to let him try and break you. You were just as curious as he was to see how far he could push you. It was like there was a relief he was able to find inside you that he couldn’t find out on the streets some nights, and if you were being honest with yourself, you preferred him searching for it within you where at least you knew he was safe.

But something about tonight seemed…different. As soon as you granted him your permission, something inside him flipped, and you could see it flash in his eyes like a comet darting across the sky.

There was nothing gentle about the way he grabbed your hair by the roots, forcing you onto the floor onto your knees as he sat on the edge of your bed, spreading his legs wide enough for you to fit between. He yanked your head back by your hair, causing you to let out a noise of surprise as you stared up at his shadowed features. This was definitely new, and while the way he tugged at your hair stung slightly, it was completely drowned out by the dull ache that had formed between your thighs and the sound of your heartbeat pounding in your own ears.

“You know what to do.”

Matt’s voice was huskier than usual, and it made you shiver despite the heat growing between your thighs. You weren’t sure if tonight had been a bad night, or he was simply testing your limits more than he ever had, but you were more than happy to comply. Your fingers made quick work of tearing open his belt, tugging his pants and briefs down just enough to free his cock. He quickly darted his hand out to grip onto your wrist roughly when you reached for him, making a tsk tsk noise in the back of his throat.

“No hands. Just your mouth.”

Without giving you another second to hesitate, Matt gripped onto the back of your head and guided your mouth to his aching cock, a slight hiss leaving his lips when the warmth of your tongue met the underside of his sensitive head. The saltiness of his precum coveting your taste buds made you moan, and he chuckled darkly above you as he shifted his hips upwards to slip more of himself past your lips.

“Always so eager to take my cock down your throat, aren’t you?”

All you could do was hum in response. You didn’t always get as many opportunities as you’d like to have him in your mouth. Ever the giver, Matt was usually the one with his mouth on you, and you usually had to catch him off guard or wait for him to get like this to get your turn. Sometimes it was so incredibly hard to convince the man he was just as worthy of pleasure, so when given the opportunity, you didn’t waste it.

Matt panted above you, letting out little groans of pleasure which only encouraged you to take him deeper into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks to suck him even harder until drool started to dribble down your chin. He liked it when you got messy, and based off the low growl that ripped through his chest, you knew he could smell just how much of a mess sucking him off was creating between your thighs.

“Shit, you’re pratically dripping onto the fucking floor right now. You like sucking my cock that much? Such a filthy little whore for me, aren’t you? You’d stay on your knees all fucking night if I wanted you too, wouldn’t you?”

Matt clearly wasn’t satisfied with the hum you gave him, because his hand was suddenly around your throat, nearly cutting off your air flow as he pulled your mouth off of him, bending down slightly so that your noses were merely an inch apart.

“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”

“Yes…yes, whatever you want.”

Your voice was hoarse and breathless as it came out, and an absolutely sinful smirk split across Matt’s lips as he cocked his head to the side with a low hum deep within his chest.

“Whatever I want?”

“Yes.”

“Open your mouth.”

Without hesitation, you parted your lips, to which Matt tightened his hold around your throat, causing your eyes to widen as he dropped his voice an octave lower.

“Wider.”

There was a hardness to his voice you had never heard before, and you whimpered as you opened your mouth as wide as you could. Without missing a beat, Matt suddenly spit into your mouth, giving your throat a tight squeeze.

“Swallow.”

Your eyes doubled in size at the act, and you immediately followed his command to his amusement. Matt chuckled darkly again, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as he snarled.

“You pathetic little slut.”

Matt suddenly rose to his full height, pulling you up with him as he shoved you onto your bed roughly. He pushed your slip up your hips, ripping your panties clean off to toss behind him as he climbed onto the mattress behind you. Even though you knew he could smell the slick between your thighs, that didn’t stop him from bending down to spit onto your pussy, nudging your legs apart with his knee as he gripped onto your hips and easily slipped his cock within your warm walls.

A loud moan of surprise tore from your throat at the sudden intrusion. Matt usually at least gave you a warning, even when he was like this, but your eyes widened when your hazy brain abruptly realized something.

“Wait-”

A loud slap echoed throughout the room as a harsh sting from his palm came down against your ass, jolting your body forward and causing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

“Shut the fuck up, and take it.”

A soft whimper left your lips as you gripped onto your sheets when he started mercilessly pounding into you from behind. It took everything in you to be able to focus enough to get the words out.

“Matt…you’re not…fuck…condom…”

Panic suddenly started to rise within your chest. You weren’t on the pill, and Matt hadn’t slipped on a condom. You knew it because you could feel everything. Every ridge of every single vein, the slope of the head, his entire cock was practically being imprinted within your walls. The heat from Matt’s body was suddenly everywhere as he leaned over you, his fingers coiling around your throat again tightly, his deep voice pouring into your ear as he growled lowly.

“No. You’re fucking mine, you understand? This is my pussy. It belongs to me. I’ll fuck it how I want, when I want. You’re gonna let me fill this tight little cunt up, and you’re gonna take every fucking drop like the good girl you are. And you’re gonna fucking leave it there, so everytime you move, you feel me. You understand?”

You should be concerned. You should be worrying about the implications about what this meant. What if you did get pregnant? What did that mean for you and Matt? Did he really want that? Did you?

But fuck it was so hard to concentrate on anything other than how good it felt to be getting fucked by him like this. Somewhere in your subconscious you decided that if Matt didn’t care, neither did you.

You could faintly hear his words in your ear, but from the way he was restricting your air flow, and the way the head of his cock kept hitting that spongy tissue within you with a vengeance over and over that made you see stars, you couldn’t answer. You felt like you were on the verge of passing out until his warm breath draped over your neck, his words echoing in your ear from somewhere far away.

“That’s it…fucking take it. Take it like I know you can. Fuck…you feel so goddamn good. You’re mine, yeah? C’mon baby, tell me. Tell me you’re mine. What’s the matter baby, huh? I fuck you stupid already? You gonna come on my cock like the pathetic whore you are?”

The headboard on your bed was banging against the wall so loudly, it sounded like it was about to go straight through. Everything in your room seemed to shake, as if there was a high magnitude earthquake happening, and even though it had been nighttime a few minutes ago, suddenly the sun was erupting right before your eyes, blinding you completely. You couldn’t see anything but pure white or hear anything but a faint ringing in your ears, and your body convulsed with an overwhelming sense of pleasure that brought tears to your eyes, every faint touch causing you to jerk away.

The soft lull of a gentle voice in your ears slowly brought you back down as warmth spread throughout your entire body, and you could just barely make out the gentle touch of someone’s palm cradling your face. After a few minutes of trying to catch your breath, you realized it was Matt’s voice whispering softly in your ear.

“C’mon baby, come back to me.”

Your body felt like it was buzzing with pure electricity coursing through your veins, and the slightest shift of his hips had you crying out in overstimulation, futilely trying to crawl away as tears slipped past your waterline. Matt shushed you quietly, allowing the warmth and weight of his body on top of yours to slowly calm you down, pressing soft kisses along your jawline and running his fingers through your hair to soothe you.

“Shh, it’s alright angel. It’s alright, just breathe for me. Are you okay? Was it too much?”

“I…I…don’t know. It’s…just…I don’t-”

“Shh, just relax. Let me hold you. Just feel me, honey. Focus on me. I’ve got you, okay?”

After a few moments of Matt kissing your cheek lovingly and delicately stroking through your hair, all the nerves in your body seemed to relax, and your eyes became heavy with exhaustion. A shiver coursed through you feeling the heat of his release starting to slip down your inner thighs.

“Matty?”

“Yes my love?”

“Stay.”

Matt chuckled softly, carefully detaching his hips from yours, causing you both to wince from the loss of contact. He quickly shed the rest of his clothes before pulling you into the safety of his arms, tugging the covers up around you while pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Where else would I go, hm? You’re here. I wanna be wherever you are, baby.”

“Matty?”

“Yes, angel?”

“We didn’t…you didn’t…what if-”

“Shh, we’ll figure it out in the morning. Go back to sleep, my love.”

“Matty?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the sleepiness in your voice, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as his arms tightened around you.

“What is it, honey?”

“Love you.”

Even as you drifted in and out of consciousness, you could feel Matt’s smile pressed against your cheek.

“Love you more, angel.”

There were a million questions floating around in your head, but exhaustion seemed to fill your blood like lead, and the comfort of Matt’s body heat coaxed you back into a slumber quickly. Whatever questions you had could be answered in the morning. At least right now, you could fall asleep knowing that Matt was safe, and he was with you.

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

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