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elsweetheart · 1 year

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crystal champagne glasses — bodyguard!abby au

synopsis: when reader, the millionaires daughter can’t help but misbehave — Abby the no nonsense bodyguard is hired to live in the mansion.

♪ every man gets his wish — lana del rey (unreleased) ♪

cw: fem reader, mentions of money / money problems, overprotective parents, mentions of loss of a parent (not reader), daddy issues lol, sprinkle of mommy issues too, alcohol and drinking, tiny mention of being sick, reader working out mentions, brat tamer abby lol, size kink, reader cries and gets humiliated and angry a lot lol, degradation, masturbation, strap on sex, think that’s it?

an: i had so much fun writing this! this is the quickest i’ve ever written a fic, i think because i’ve been excited to write this one and planning it for ages! now, if you don’t like my writing please click off now. no one is forcing you to read my fics. to all the people who have been excited for this fic, ily and i hope you enjoy it! as always, minors + ageless blogs do not interact with this or any posts / fics of mine. you will be blocked! ♡

You weren’t a princess. You were not a princess. You wished you were, shit — maybe your parents would actually care about you. Unfortunately though, there was no royalty behind your name. Just two millionaire parents who would apparently rather be anywhere else but at home with you.

You had your own hobbies, friends, a life — back at home. But of course, if you had so much as wanted to leave the mansion to partake in such activities, such as socialising (God forbid!) you’d need an escort, a driver, secret security officers stalking you, creeping out all of your friends and more. After a while it just became… not worth it. So you stopped showing up, stopped hanging out with people — and understandably, your invite to meeting up with friends started to get supposedly lost in the post. Things get lonely fast.

Bitterness was hardly the word for it. You understood your circumstances and if you were anything it wasn’t ungrateful. Your father only wanted you to be safe, hence the dozens of hired body guards in and out (But you’ll get back to that in a moment, of course.) Your friends just assumed you didn’t wanna hang out anymore, hence the missed invites. You had only started misbehaving out of bitterne— no, not bitter. Pissed off. Rightfully.

You always felt dread when you saw the answer machine light up red with a new message from the only person who had the number — your father. Where on Earth could he be calling from this time? Perhaps lounging by the pool in Greece or dining at a rooftop garden in Dubai — experiencing the world and bravely taking a moment out of his incredibly busy day to drop you a patronising and vaguely threatening voicemail. Atleast he spoke to you, unlike your mother who’d much rather pretend you didn’t exist because, and you quote, the stress of your misbehaviour ‘gave her wrinkles.’ Your manicured finger hovered over the button before pressing down, huffing out your nose as you stared out at the morning fog over the grassy hills of your land.

‘Good morning darling, dad calling again. You keep missing my calls, which I assume is on purpose so I’m leaving you a message anyways. I’m currently in Amsterdam with your mother and I just caught wind of Malakai the bodyguard quitting ‘suddenly and abruptly’ according to one of the maids. I’ve told you once and I will tell you again, if you don’t stop harassing the guards and forcing them to quit you will be in serious trouble. I mean cut off completely, sent off to work in the city with no more than a shitty little apartment and no money. So, I have decided to give you one last chance. I’ve purchased a bodyguard to live in with you starting Sunday morning so you’re going to have to fend for yourself until then. I searched high and low for this one, apparently they specialise in poorly behaved brats like yourself — so I’m hoping if anything that will whip you into shape. You’ve been through five bodyguards this year and it’s February. I’m serious about my threats. Step a foot out of line and you’re done, your mother and I are deadly serious. I will be calling the new hire at the end of next week to check in on your behaviour. Do not let us down darling, you will regret it. Okay, that’s all. See you when I see you.’

You smile.

Oh, how sometimes things just worked out. A life of your own, with normality and struggle and freedom — no watchful eye breathing down your neck and no lack of purpose weighing down on you. Your father had presented you with the easiest task, piss off the new hire so that you’d be set free. A task you’d grown to perfect, having done so time and time again.

The crackle of wheels on the gravel path leading up to the mansion awakens you on the Sunday morning. You want to grumble, having gotten literally no sleep. You see, you were terribly afraid of the dark — and you couldn’t sleep without your guard having light the fire in the fireplace of your bedroom (The one use you found for the hired help.) You had no idea how to light it and didn’t trust yourself not to burn the house down — so you went without. Hence the awful nights sleep. Where were you? Yes, curious. Rudely awakened and curious.

Your short nightie does nothing to combat the cool morning chill as you get up from the bed, letting your bed covers slide off your body as you traipse over to your window. A black Range Rover, they’re all the same. All the same angry men that drive the same angry car, with the same angry build and the same angry face. You scoff at the memory of your fathers threat on the voice message, stating that this guard was to be anything you weren’t used to before. You knew it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle.

Except, you were caught off guard when the door opens. You watch a woman climb out the car, despite the vehicles spacious design she still seemed to unfold like she was inflatable as she climbed out — almost seeming too big for even a car like that. She was built, strong arms and chest, tree trunk thighs and veiny hands. You narrow your eyes at the black sunglasses perched on the bridge of her jagged nose, taking them off as she looks around with a serious expression. She was attractive, you’d admit — but in a way that made you cross. That stupid skin tight black t-shirt and black cargos and thick weighty belt around her waist told you everything you needed to know about her. The militant type, she was going to try and intimidate you with her seriousness. You smirk, seeing this as a challenge. She has no idea what she’s up against.

You rush down the spiral stairs at the sound of her lugging her bags inside. She flicks her braid over her shoulder to glance at you standing there analytically as she does so, biceps bulging as she lifts the heavy black cases into the centre of your foyer stood beneath the chandelier. She looked much too harsh for somewhere delicate like this.

“I take it you aren’t going to introduce yourself.” She speaks after a moment of sorting her bags, closing the front door to signify she was done bringing her things inside. You cling to the tall bannister, toeing the cold pristine marble floor, eyeing her and her things as if each bag had a bomb inside. She stands up to her full height, atleast breaching the 6ft margin and you squint, watching her stretch her arms to relieve herself from the weight of the bags. “Off to a great start already.” She retorts as you ignore her, her long legs stepping over a black duffle bag on the floor toward you.

“Why are your bags so heavy?” You ask quietly, less curious and more judgemental. Who did she think she was moving in here with all that stuff? She takes a long inhale, accenting the muscle in her chest as she places her hands on her hips. Her reply is calm and unbothered.

“I brought my weights with me, and lots of other things I need to stay in my condition. Do you have a name?” Her voice is velvety and more feminine than you expected. Your stomach gets hot and prickly at the sound.

“You know my name. I can bet anything my father told you everything about me infact.” You jut your chin up stubbornly. It’s her turn to analyse now, tilting her head a little to the side as she leans on her hip, eyeing you once over and then again.

“Yeah. Your dad was kind enough to tell me all about you and how you treated your past bodyguards. But when you first meet someone, you introduce yourself. So introduce yourself.” There is a slight bite to your tone and your eyes flutter a bit. You’re used to men being agitated with you, infact you thrive off it— but you’ve never had a woman guard before. Something about the harsh tone hurt you just that little more. Shit, maybe you just had mommy issues.

You mutter your name, eyes laser focused on her clinging to the last shred of dignity you had — but when she gives you a curt nod and an equally quiet ‘There you go’ it perishes in the wind like a dying leaf crumbling away for winter. She turns, looking around at her bags before reaching over for the smallest one. “I’m Abby. As you probably guessed, I’m your new bodyguard.” She walks over to you and holds out the bag. You look at her and then at the bag, and then back at her.

“What am I supposed to do with this, Abby?” You cross your arms with a raised brow.

“You’re gonna carry it to my new room for me. I’m a guest in your home.” She raises her eyebrows, waving the bag infront of you signally for you to take it.

You stare at her in disbelief, before laughing bitterly. “You’re right. You’re a guest in my home. So I’m not carrying shit.” You spin on your heel to stomp up the stairs, but she cuts you off by speaking calmly yet firmly.

“Then you can sleep in the dark.”

You turn back around slowly, wearing a frown that creases your brow. How did she know about that?

“I spoke to some previous guards of yours. Said you were terrified of the dark and needed a fire lit in your room every night. Y’wanna sleep in dark? Or you wanna help me carry my bags?”

You stare her down for a moment, weighing out your options. She’d already dominated the conversation by getting your name out of you so easily, and now she was winning again. However, you were exhausted just from one night of restlessly pacing with your light on — too afraid to turn it off and go to sleep. You needed your sleep. That being said, you scowl and snatch the bag from her hand, the leather of it slapping against your leg as you carry it up the spiral stairs.

“Atta girl.”

You clench your jaw.

The week begins, and as do your antics. Abby wasn’t easily wound up, but that only made you want to go ten times harder. She was a bodyguard, not a babysitter — but she was starting to feel like her duties were beginning to cross wires. She knew your game, knew you were aiming for something — she could see the determination in your eyes everytime you’d sass her back. So, she’d play you back. Not give into what you want.

Her first real duty came on a Wednesday when she was lounging in the living room watching some God awful 2000s police chase show, and in came you — tottering on little heels and a skirt so short and tight she could tell the colour of your thong beneath. Not that she was looking, of course.

She leant her arm on the back of the couch, eyes flitting over you as you rummage for the keys that you were sure had been left by the maid on the coffee table. “Going somewhere?” It comes out nearly as a scoff, smirk etched onto her face and it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Out with my friends. The ones that still talk to me.” You’re distracted, pulling your small handbag back up onto your shoulder when it slides off, free hand feeling around in a decorative bowl for the key set. Abby stares at you for a moment, which — okay, is a little indulgent. She wasn’t being a creep, she could just appreciate that you looked good. Before you could turn to throw a glare her way she was muttering an ‘alright’ and heaving her heavy, toned body up to stand and stretch.

You turn and look at her questioningly and she stops to return your gaze. “What? You think I’m just living here with you for fun? C’mon, if you wanna go let’s go.” She nods towards the door, but stops after a few steps when she hears you snicker.

“No thanks. I’m a big girl.”

She crosses her arms and the smirk that makes you wanna throw darts at her stupid face returns. “That right? You think daddy just hired me to hang out around the house, then?”

You stare at her, pursing your lips before exhaling through your nose wordlessly — walking towards the door in defeat. You just wanted to go out, it had been so long. You’re sure you could just ignore Abby.

She follows behind you, now swinging her car keys round her finger — so smug. “How were you planning on getting to the club? You live in the middle of nowhere.”

“Uber.”

It’s her turn to snicker, opening the front door for you and standing aside as you walk through. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon.”

Screw her. Because now, for some reason she was in your head.

Maybe you just had a few… weaknesses. You always liked your girls on the masc side, on the buff side — but that was a given. Who isn’t attracted to that, right? However, watching hot girls drive was something else, and Abby was being that something else. You know— hand on the back of your seat when she reverses, bicep bulging when she grips the wheel of her sleek car, the lights of the night time traffic illuminating the way her top lip curled upwards a little and bottom lip pouted. You felt a little relief, knowing it was one hundred percent the wine talking. The wine you’d probably drank a little too much of whilst you were getting ready, playing your music and singing along loudly just hoping it was annoying Abby (It wasn’t, she didn’t even hear.)

Ignoring her would start after the car journey you decided.

And you did, for the most part. Abby gave you your space, sitting a few seats away from your group whilst you had your fun — headache inducing squeals and brain numbing chatter over loud music and strong cocktails not quite interesting the blonde. She was driving, and working — so she couldn’t drink, just sat there all night bored out of her mind. She probably should have been monitoring how many drinks you’d had over the night, because soon you were stumbling off your seat to go and dance— and Abby’s hands were itching to pull your skirt down just a little, the hem climbing up to the swell where your thighs meet your ass. She sits back, just watching. She was here to protect you, not be your personal wardrobe malfunction manager — so that’s what she’d do. Sit back and protect.

God, did you always dance like this when you went out?

She felt her fist twitch on the table at the sight of your hips swirling, but she knew that was just a natural gay reaction. She should probably order you a glass of water, so you could sober up and tone down the sluttyness but she figured she’d let you have your fun for now— you may have been too far gone. Abby wished she was holding a beer or something whilst she stared across at the way you were grinding your ass into your friends crotch, the two of you giggling like idiots all hazy eyed from the liquor.

After a while you amble over to her, everything bouncing and spilling out but you clearly don’t give a fuck. Your guard is caught off guard when you come close, alcohol having decimated any concept of personal space as you lean over to speak to her where she’s sat, bent over with your hands splayed on her black jean clad thighs.

She tries to be subtle in the way she eyes you, her tongue peeping between her lips and eyes widening momentarily at the perfect shot of down your top. “I can’t hear you.” She yells over the music. You come closer and nearly topple onto her completely, Abby’s hands by nature resting on the back of your thighs as you now grip her shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if at a glance anyone thinks the two of you are a couple. She shakes it off ‘cos… you’re still a brat. Hot or not.

“I said, can I go to the bathroom or are you gonna follow me?” You pull back to make sure she’s seeing you attempt to pointedly raise an eyebrow at her, something you would have perfected usually if you were sober.

“Take a friend.” She nods to your most sober looking buddy and you shrug happily, pushing off her and grabbing your toilet partner and rushing off. She was kind of glad you were gonna be out of her sight for a moment, needing to cool off.

She wasn’t sure what happened after that. Abby was getting bored and tired, dropping the ball a little bit — and you must have been sneaking drinks from your friends when she wasn’t looking — because suddenly you were way too drunk, barely able to stand. Enough was enough when she watched you stumble over to the bar, heading to assumably get yourself another drink. Abby followed you, gently taking your arm and turning you around.

“Hey, no more. You’re blacked out.”

Your face screws up into this adorable little pout for a moment before the rage kicks in, brow creasing and fists clenching by your side.

“C’n dooo what I waant. Dompt tell meee what to do.” You thud her in the centre of her chest with your finger, slurring enough to the point where Abby was confident the bartender wouldn’t have served you anyway.

“No. Finish up, you need to go home.” She was stern, and as expected — this garnered the worst possible response, baring your teeth like a dog and digging your heels into the ground like you were about to pounce on her. You exploded into noise.

“Nnno! Fuck you you stupid securererty guard I can’t wait to get rid of youn’d be independent this is such buuullshi—” Your rampage was cut short by Abby sighing, squatting, and throwing you over her shoulder. Her free hand came up without thought, tugging your skirt down to not expose you to the world. You thrashed and yelled for a good ten seconds before giving in completely — by standers and your friends laughing as Abby marched you to the exit. You were asleep by the time she reached the car, and briefly woke up when she’d carried you to bed to demand her to light the fire place. The fear of the dark must have ran incredibly deep, interesting — she noted.

Abby thought that maybe you’d appreciate her cutting your drinks off and halting any further plans to embarrass yourself that night— but she came to learn that if she thought you were bad usually, you with a hangover was ten times worse. If waking up to the sounds of your loud upchuck wasn’t bad enough, you were a whiny, angry bitch relentlessly all day.

“I’m not your servant you know. Stop asking me to do things for you.” Abby walked in with a glass of water and Tylenol upon request, being met with a loud groan instead of a ‘thank you’.

“Do you have to fucking yell everything?” You complain, ironically — louder than her.

She was tired by the end of the day, beginning to wonder if the pay was enough to tolerate your brattiness. Abby had gained a reputation for dealing with difficult clients, perhaps diva-esque or ill-mannered, but often it wasn’t anything a stern talking to couldn’t fix, often intimidated by her height and build enough to shut them up after a few quips. You were effortlessly becoming one of, if not the most difficult and tiresome clients to crack, but she was determined. If Abby was anything, she wasn’t a quitter — which is why when your father called to check in on you, she told him you’d been good as gold, which earned her a glare from you when you’d overheard the whole thing on the way to the bathroom.

You were back to your regular level of shitty behaviour the next day, less whiny and more sarcastic and bitchy which she could tolerate. However, after a month had gone by Abby was finding the irritation harder and harder to control— especially since you had developed an ever so charming habit of putting on your headphones every single time Abby tried to tell you to do something or talk to you in general.

“Like I told you, I’m a bodyguard — not a babysitter. Stop leaving your—” She bounded into the room, stopping when she saw you look her in the eye and pull your headphones over your head, pressing play on your screen to start your music. Abby stares for a few seconds, taking a breath, telling herself to walk away. Be a bodyguard and nothing else. She ignores this, wound up— and moves to stand in front of you, clicking her fingers. Cheekily, you point to your headphones — mouthing a faux-apologetic ‘sorry!’. The blonde scoffs, wondering why she’s entertaining this in the first place and reaches up to yank the headphones off your head, but freezes at your sudden wide eyed yelp.

“Don’t touch me I’ll tell my dad and you’ll get fired!” It’s rambled out, fast and premeditated — like you’d thought of it already and had been waiting to put it to use. Abby glances down at your alight screen, noting the music as paused and wonders if you were ever playing music or was just doing this to bother her. She lowers her hand, because — well, she’s not an asshole — instead turning her palm upwards in gesture to hand them over.

“Headphones. Give them to me.”

“No.”

“Give them to me or I’m not lighting the fire in your room tonight.” She stares you down and you sulk, shoulders dropping and brows furrowing in devastation. Abby would have felt bad if you weren’t such a menace.

You stroppily yank the headphones off your head and hand them over, muttering profanities furiously under your breath as you turn away from her, sprawled on the couch. Your guard nods, disappearing to put them away before leaving you be — heading to the kitchen to make her afternoon smoothie. The sound of her chopping fruit sparked rage in you all over again at how at home she had made herself, and after a minute you were storming in again— bare feet slapping the cold tiles.

“Back for more?” Abby is calm now, content as she focuses on slicing into a banana.

“You can’t threaten me with my fears you know, that’s emotional and psychological abuse. You’re taking advantage of my fears to be in control like — like a coward. Trust me I studied psychology out of a book, I know my stuff.” You stand beside her ranting as she raises her eyebrows with a calm smile, nodding as she listens and finishes up chopping her fruit, beginning to load them into the— your blender.

“Oh? Smart girl then huh?” She teases and you huff, jutting your chin in the air confidently with an ‘mhm’ before hoisting yourself up onto the kitchen island counter, deciding to stick around for a while to pester her.

“Very. You could probably learn a thing or two from me.”

Abby twists her body half around in amusement, a mocking expression of being impressed adorning her attractive face. She closes the lid to the blender, keeping one hand on it as she speaks.

“‘That so? Go ahead, tell me what possibly I could learn from you, smart girl.”

Ignoring how ‘smart girl’ made you feel in your underwear, you only a manage a “Well first of all—” before she’s turned the blender on, the loud whirring masking any sound coming from you despite your attempts to yell over it for a few seconds. She nods teasingly, as if she was listening to what you were saying and you huff, giving up. You were usually a master in being annoying, but Abby was giving you a run for your money.

You hop back off the counter, muttering a ‘Big blonde stupid asshole.’ as you storm out the room and Abby lets go of the blend button, snickering to herself and yelling out a non committal ‘I heard that!’ after you.

The following day she had taken you to buy groceries after you’d complained that you’d wanted to do it yourself — Abby, following you around as you loaded up your cart, every so often remembering your duty to annoy her and hitting her with something along the lines of ‘I want my headphones back.’ which would be met with a disinterested ‘Tough luck.’ on her end. You couldn’t believe that she’d been living in your home for one month and you still hadn’t gotten under her skin. Perhaps that’s why the next day you’d let your guard down.

It was the first sunny day of March, the grassy hills in which the mansion sat on still harbouring that frosty bite to the air from winter — but pink blossoms had began to spring on the bushes and trees and the sky was blue, which instantly lifted your mood just that little bit.

You were curled by the large window that morning, still in your pyjamas and holding a mug beneath your chin, gazing out at the bright grass. When Abby had entered the room, she was surprised to hear you gently comment that “The weathers nice today.” — a rare sentence that wasn’t defying or insulting her. Abby looked over to you, noting your peaceful demeanour and deciding to carefully toe the line.

“Do you wanna… go outside today?” She suggested, something the two of them could possibly do together. She almost grimaced, waiting for you to curse her out like usual but instead you paused quietly for a few seconds before responding.

“I can introduce you to the horses.” With that, you hopped off the window seat and disappeared to get dressed. When you returned, your hair was in tidier condition and you wore a dress made for summer with only a thick knit cardigan over the top. She itched to tell you it was still way too cold to dress like that, but figured she didn’t wanna aggravate you before you’ve even made it out the door. Today was the day Abby would get through to you.

You were quieter than usual, assumably worn out and in higher spirits due to the sunshine. You’d received the horses as a gift on your sixteenth birthday — but due to the cold weather and outright depression you hardly rode them anymore, instead making sure they lived a healthy and luxurious life on your land and fed the best foods by their handler (mainly out of guilt.) Abby could tell you’d regret your outfit choice as the two of you walked along the pathway through the lush greenery outside, pulling your cardigan tighter around your body, head tilted as you watched the birds fly over the pond.

“What are your horses names?” She conversed lightly, stuffing her large hands into the pockets of her black bomber jacket.

“Cinnamon and blondie.” You answer quietly, before speaking up a few moments later. “Don’t judge the lack of creativity I was sixteen when I picked the names out.”

The pair of you reach the barn and she huffs a quiet chuckle out her nose, watching you pick up a brush as you approached the brown and blonde horses. “Hey, I think those names are perfectly fitting.”

She wasn’t sure why she wanted you to like her so badly all of a sudden. She partially thought it was because if you did you’d make her life and her job easier — but… no, it was more personal than that. You’d deprived her of seeing your pretty smile so much that she felt almost awestruck at the sight of your peaceful and joyful expression as you gently combed Cinnamons mane. She caught herself smiling as she watched.

The two of you talked. Like actually talked without hurling insults or rolling eyes. You sat on the hay, watching as she fed Blondie a carrot. Abby’s teeth were always so white and perfect, perfecting an already perfect smile. Perhaps you were in a good mood, because the thought of calling her perfect didn’t quite irritate you as much as it usually would.

“Have you even ridden a horse?” You’re still bashful about making regular conversation as you pluck at the hay from the bale you sit on.

“Nah.” She shucks off her jacket, the air in the barn balmier and muggier than the outside. It’s hard to not let your eyes flicker down to her strong arms, so you don’t deny yourself.

“Not even as a little girl?” You question and she chuckles a little.

“I didn’t have horse money.” There’s a pitch of longing behind her tone and you tilt your head, wondering about her upbringing. She senses your inquisition and glances up at you as she continues to stroke the horse. “I didn’t have much money for pretty much my whole life. It was actually why I got into the bodyguard industry. Good pay.” She shrugs one shoulder like it was nothing.

“Did you get to go to public school? Like in the city?” You lean forward with your elbows on your knees, chin balanced on your palms in intrigue. The way you said it sparked some amusement in her, ‘get to go to public school’. Like to you it was some sort of luxury.

“Yep. Got the bus everyday too.” Her eyebrow twitches up with a smirk, turning to walk towards you with her jacket in her hand. Whilst she expects you to pick up on her playful tone and perhaps roll your eyes, you continue to stare up at her in awe— an air of innocent curiosity around you that made her suddenly fight the urge to run a thumb over your cheek. She stood over you, placing her jacket by your side and you preened a little at how big she looked above you like that. Part of you felt mad at yourself for having developed a crush, knowing it was interfering with your plans — but you were touch starved. Really touch starved, so you allowed yourself a little yearning for your strict but not so strict bodyguard.

You clear your throat before speaking quietly. “You’re so lucky.”

At this, she scoffs, dropping down to sit beside you. Your skin felt a little warmer when her thigh pressed up next to yours.

“I wouldn’t say that. Would have traded lives with you in a heartbeat.”

You turn to her with a frown. “My life was boring. I didn’t get to do sneaky, crazy teenager things. I went to a small private school and had my small group of friends there and… we couldn’t do anything without dumb bodyguards riding my coattail. The only time we got privacy was in the girls bathroom, and even then if we took too long they’d come knocking.” You complain, pushing your shoe into the gravel.

“Oh, I see. So you didn’t get to be a bratty teenager so you’re making up for lost years now.” She spoke it with a smile, but assumes she took it too far as along came your infamous eye roll, shuffling away from her on the seat as the irritation snuck back in.

“I am not a brat.”

“And I’m not your bodyguard.” She challenges gently with a smile, nudging her knee against yours. You look at her with a stubborn pout and her smile doesn’t falter. “You’re not really a brat. I can bet you’re a sweet girl that just wants attention so you’re acting out.” Didn’t your father say she was supposed to be tough? Please. You say nothing. Your heart races in your chest but you’re too stubborn to say a word. Maybe you’d let your guard down too much. Roll your eyes again, that’ll do it.

After a moment you look away, not because you were still mad but more so because you were flustered. Sweet girl rung around your head like church bells.

“I know you wanna get rid of me.” She begins and you tense up a little. Way to ruin a nice morning.

“And?”

“I know why. You think you wanna be independent and get away from your parents. You have this… idea of living on your own in the city. Am I right?”

You’re prideful, facing away from her with your chin up. “You’re not wrong.”

She sighs out a little chuckle, shaking her head as she leans forward with her elbows resting on her thighs, head turned towards your profile. “You don’t want that life. Trust me. I’ve lived it and it’s hard.”

“Whats hard is having no freedom, no social life, being followed constantly because no one trusts you to make sensible adult decisions.” You snap at her, turning to look her in the eye.

“So you talk to your dad, try and see eye to eye. Not just… pack up and move out like you’re running away to the circus.” She reasons, like it’s just that simple. Her eyes dart across your face as she sees the rage build, infuriated by the assumption that your father was at all the type to negotiate.

“Theres no just talking to my father, Abby. This is it. This is my life unless I get out of here. I can’t live this way forever.” You raise your voice a little, frustrated at her lack of understanding. “I don’t know what your parents are like, but I’m sure you wouldn’t get it.”

She smiles in that way that people smile when they’re mad or upset, tilting her head down to look at her hands for a moment as she inhaled, shaking her head with a speechless chuckle when she exhaled. “I never knew my mom, and my dad died when I was sixteen. I don’t have the luxury of arguing with my dad like you do. Sorry.” She sarks and your face drops, which sparks a little guilt in that secretly soft heart of hers — because truthfully there was no way you could have known, and she could tell by your face you were immediately mortified. You stumble for words after a moment.

“Look. I can’t forgive my father for practically imprisoning me. We… we have a complicated relationship and I think we always will. He says he cares and then does nothing but ruin my life. But… he’s still my dad. No one should ever have to go through losing their father, especially not at that age. I’m… I’m sorry Abby. I can’t imagine what that’s like.” You speak quietly and she listens, an unreadable expression on her face as she does so. When you finish, her eyebrows flicker up ever so slightly.

“Huh.” She breathes, quietly.

“What?” You furrow your brows, sympathetic expression lingering.

“So you are capable of basic empathy. I had no idea.” She let’s a smile slip and your face drops into one of deadpan.

“Bye.” You go to stand up but she laughs and grips your arm, her strong but somewhat affectionate hand not allowing you to leave her side. You sigh with an irritated pout, facing away from her again. When her chuckles die down, she speaks again, her hand staying wrapped around the flesh of your arm.

“So what’s your plan then. You inevitably get me fired, you move into the city by yourself and then what. Where are you gonna work? You won’t be able to afford living in an apartment by yourself so who are you gonna live with?” She fires at you, realising she’s still gripping your arm and letting her fingers trail down a little before leaving your skin all together. You hate how it leaves goosebumps in her wake.

“I’ll use my family name to get me a job somewhere. As for roommates I’m not too sure, I suppose I’ll have to start looking online.” You smirk, glancing at her out the corner of your eye. “Perhaps I’ll just find a girlfriend first who will let me move in with her.”

The mention of a girlfriend makes heat prickle behind Abby’s ears. She had a sixth sense for these kind of things, most of the time able to tell when someone preferred the company of the same sex — mainly down to her own preferences, and she could tell almost immediately with you. However, it was always pleasurable to get the confirmation that she was infact, once again correct.

“Oh yeah? You think anyone else is gonna put up with that princess attitude but me? You better start working on your game.” She jests, and the mention of her tolerating your princess ways caused you to bite down a little on your bottom lip.

“What, you’re saying you’re not charmed by me?” You joke back for once, turning to face her to bat your eyelashes. She chuckles softly, eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before looking away and pushing herself up to stand by pressing her hands into her knees with a quiet grunt.

“Can’t say the insults and tantrums did it for me. Good luck to you though.” She allows a smirk to flit back onto her pouty lips before she thrusts a hand out, allowing you to take it so she could help you up, once again proving to you both that she was actually more than happy to tolerate that princess attitude she speaks of so poorly.

By the next day, your head is back in the game. All this talk of moving out set you straight, and whilst bonding with Abby in the barn certainly set you multiple steps back — you were back to your old self in no time, dead set on getting her to budge so that you could be free’d from your fathers watchful eye.

You eye your search bar on Google, sprawled on your front on your bed with your laptop open infront of you, having just typed ‘Roommates for sale backspace Roommates in the city friendly and not weird’. As you scrolled through the unhelpful results, your door opened — Abby standing in your doorway.

“Jesus do you ever fucking knock?” You curse, glaring up at where she stands in the doorway wearing her usual tight black tshirt and thick belted cargos and boots.

“Good to see you’re back to your usual self.” She sarks with a dramatic eye roll as she leans on her hip, refocusing (which took an extra second because you’re just wearing a little skirt and top today and lying on your front is making her think things.) “I’ve gotta go get my car serviced so I’m dropping it off at the garage thirty minutes away. You think you can survive an hour without me here?”

You’re not looking at her, continuing to scroll as you wave her off with just a distracted mumble causing her to shake her head and tsk followed by a chuckle as she pushes off her feet, disappearing down the hallway. “I won’t be too long. Stay out of trouble, smart girl.” She calls to you, before you eventually heard the sound of the front door shutting and then her car rumbling around the fountain infront of the entrance and out of the large iron gates. Finally, some peace and quiet.

However, after around thirty-five minutes, you had to admit you’d grown bored. You were home alone, and the room-mate search was coming to just about nothing so you had given up all together for the time being. You flop onto your back on the bed, huffing. Where you’d usually get up with the boredom and go to bother Abby until she argues back — you couldn’t. So, you figured you’d turn to the next best thing, listening to music whilst you do a light work out.

You didn’t like working out when Abby was home, because — as if she were a moth to a flame, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting and gym-rat-splaining everything you’re doing wrong and how to improve. The last time she walked in on you doing pilates, you nearly chucked a weight at her head because she started dishing out unwarranted advice. You knew she did it just to bother you, wearing that shit eating grin on her face when she’d lift a bicep and flex it, stating that it was ‘living proof that you should listen to me.’

You thought also that maybe a workout would help burn off some of the… frustration you woke up with. Perhaps it was the tension ridden barn conversation the two of you shared yesterday, a reminder of your starvation for touch, maybe you just had a load of tempting dreams that you weren’t remembering — but you woke up with your cunt aching and hungry to be filled. You figured this was the real reason behind your bad mood returning with such a vigour, and you couldn’t get yourself off, not wanting to give Abby the satisfaction of walking in (without knocking, no doubt) on you with your legs splayed out and fingers deep inside your wanting hole, probably accidentally moaning her name— or whatever. You couldn’t say the thought of doing so didn’t make things worse though.

When you rolled off the bed and onto your feet, you took a moment to collect yourself at the frustration of remembering that Abby still had your God-damn headphones somewhere, having stashed it away due to you using it as a prop to taunt her. You cursed her out, and then cursed yourself out for getting your beloved headphones confiscated before sighing. If Abby wanted to invade your privacy by not knocking, and taking away your personal items — you could invade her privacy by going into her room and searching for them. Perhaps you could even return them before she was back.

It seemed like a sound plan, so you padded down the hallway until you were met with the door to the guest bedroom where she had been residing. You push the door open, for some reason your stomach twisting in excitement at the small thrill of being sneaky— something you rarely got to experience. The room was clean and tidy, and smelt like her. You push further into the room, looking around and spotting a few of the black shiny duffel bags she’d brought along with her — the rest of her things assumably packed away into the closets. You kneel, unzipping the first.

Your hand sticks inside, rustling about only to be met with metal plated weights and an exercise mat. You huff, zipping it back up and trying the next one. You spot them instantly inside, but tsk when you struggle to pull them out — the headband portion of the listening device tangled with something else. You pull them both out, pulling them apart as you do so and gasp when you realise what you’re holding. A strap on. A harness with a dildo attached.

You drop it, nearly falling onto your back like a spider had just leapt out at you— your eyes widening. Placing your headphones aside slowly, you lift it again — observing it. Why on Earth did she have that with her? Your heart jumped slightly in jealousy, wondering if she was planning on bringing someone over and using it on them. Was she fucking someone, just a few doors down from you? In a moment of sick depravity and curiosity, you slowly bring the shaft beneath your nose— inhaling to smell if there were any… remnants of usage, or at best cleaning products to signify it had been used and cleaned. Your face feels hot in shame as you do so, and it just smells like new plastic. It looked new too. You pull it back, looking at it. It hadn’t been used at all.

“God, Abby.” You whisper as you turn it side to side, harness tickling your leg as you grip the girth of it. It was black and shiny like everything else she owned, roughly 7 inches with veins and thick— just as you expected from the broad bodyguard. There were balls attached too, and you run your fingertips over them gently, lightly pressing down to feel it’s texture. As you do so, translucent white liquid gathers at the tip of the dildo, a small trail of it running down the side of the shaft obscenely. You gasp lightly again as your cunt clenches hard without warning. A breeding strap, now you had only ever seen those in porn videos from your phone screen late at night with a hand down your pyjama shorts.

You’d been fucked with a strap before, of course. You’d had been allowed romantic relationships in the past, and your parents of all things were surprisingly cool with the gay thing. Of course, your father had to background check them first and practically set up play dates with their family (Undoubtably another wealthy family) However, the times you’d experienced with them were all short lived, fumbly and overall incompatible. It was clear that you and your past two partners were there purely to experience some sort of relief from their sexual frustration — which resulted in just rolling around the bed whilst your parents dined together downstairs, them gliding their smaller strap in your tight pussy as you clumsily rut against eachother. The experiences were somewhat fun and naive, but you never got to cum or experience real pleasure and satisfaction.

Oh but Abby, you could tell she had to have experience. She had been out there in the world, seasoned and a few years older than you — and when you look like that, with that kind of body, there was no way she wasn’t having girls in and out her apartment door like some kind of cock carousel.

You felt your wet folds pulsing with need to be touched, and you bit your lip — wondering how much time you had as it seemed to have majorly escaped you. The idea of fucking yourself with your bodyguards strap without her knowing had you wetter than you cared to admit from just your own daydreams in your bed, and you’d decided fuck it, consider it pay back for putting a dent in your plans.

You were squatted on the ground still, but now your skirt and panties were draped messily on the sleek wooden flooring by your side — excitedly holding the strap by the dildo wearing just a tight little crop top and nothing else like you were Winnie the fucking Pooh. It was humiliating in the way that made you reach down, checking and confirming that your slick had gathered across your lower region— pent up and built up from the past few hours of general frustration.

You had no idea how that beast was meant to fit inside of you, but you’d grown desperate — eagerly pulling it downwards and hovering over it, smearing the pearly liquid from the tip around in your slick as the harness clattered against the floor. You let out a sigh, only to realise you were trembling from the adrenaline of doing something you shouldn’t. Biting back an excited grin, you push in slightly — the stretch making you wince, brows furrowing. You let out a harsh breath, whispering ‘Fuck’ to yourself as you do so, just the tip stretching you beyond what you’ve ever taken before. You balance on the flats of your feet, toes curling against the ground and eyes squeezing shut as you try and push in further, the thickness making you quietly cry out, unable to take it properly.

Tears sprung to your eyes, half at the stretch and half in frustration at the inability to fit it inside of you. “C’mon, please.” You whine quietly to no one, walls spasming around the plastic, which now was slick with your arousal dripping down it. You were beyond turned on, to the point where you were starting to feel a little pathetic. You tried to ease up, reaching down to rub your clit to help you along as you take a deep breath, mind trying to ease itself — visions of Abby touching you instead of your own hand, moaning quietly and frustratedly at the thought of her strapping you.

You try and push it deeper, and it seems like your walls are about to let up — but the door flies open and so do your eyes. Your world comes crumbling down in humiliation, your ears ringing and face burning hot; Abby stands before you, eyes wide and jaw slack with pink cheeks.

Your first thought is to pull the dildo out, and the size of it makes you let out a quiet pained whine as you do so. She’s frozen, and the rage takes over you. It’s the most comfortable emotion in a situation like this.

“I told you to knock!” You yell, grabbing your skirt and throwing the dildo to the ground.

“This— this is my room!” Her voice is high and defensive, still processing what she just saw as everything happened so quickly. You pull your skirt up and grab your panties off the floor and to make the embarrassment worse — you burst into tears before you’ve made it out the door, storming past her and slamming the door to your room. The final blow was realising you’d left the headphones behind.

Abby watches you until you’re out of sight before turning her head slowly back to the strap on laying abandoned on the floor, a single drip of what looks like your arousal beside it. Jesus, she thinks, letting out a long sigh and running her hand over her face as she enters the room fully — letting the door shut behind her. She slowly lowers herself into a squat, thick thighs bulging in her cargos as she inspects the scene. Abby lifts the harness, before grabbing the dildo by the suction end and sucking in a hitched breath at how you’d soaked it only a little way down. Your poor pussy, she thinks as her lower region warms guiltily at the imagery now the shock had worn off. “Was a good attempt.” She mutters to herself, tossing the dildo onto her bed and sighing, standing up and stroking beneath her chin in thought. She worries, wonders what you must have thought about her seeing that she’d brought a strap on into your home. You must’ve thought she was some kind of perv, right? How was she supposed to bring you back from this?

As you lay face down on your bed, crying embarrassed tears for an hour straight— you wonder if it would have been less embarrassing if Abby had followed you into your room rather than leaving you to storm off on your own. She probably didn’t want to see you, or speak to you for the matter of fact. You sit up, wiping your cheeks furiously — if that were the case, you had the right to be mad at her. It was her fault, she took your headphones which spiralled into this whole thing. Was it better to let things fizzle out and be awkward? You couldn’t think of anything worse, so you finally rose to your feet again, cleaning up your appearance with your jaw clenched before storming back down the hallway. You were going to finish this, and make her leave for good.

You didn’t bother to knock, because when did she bother? You pushed the door open so hard it bang loudly against the wall, and Abby turned around from her dresser — going through some envelopes, totally unphased.

“I’m taking my headphones!” You practically holler, an accusatory finger pointed right at her. She places the envelope aside as she leans against the dresser crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

“Okay.”

“And my father will be receiving a call! Yes, I will call him and tell him that you’re rude, you push boundaries, and you don’t ever fucking knock on any door!” You raise your voice even louder, counting off your fingers as she stares at you.

“Again, this is my room and I didn’t know you were in here.” She explains slowly like you were stupid, which only enrages you more.

“This is my house!” You shriek, waving your hands and she pushes off the dresser, stepping towards you.

“Is it?” She frowns. “Do you even pay any rent?”

You falter for just a second, but it’s enough for her to see and nearly smile, which only builds your emotion. “This is my families house. On your very first day here you said that you were a guest in my house, so act like one. My. House.” You step closer to meet her in the centre of the room, eyes boring up into hers as she watched you, unimpressed, tongue in her cheek.

She couldn’t lie, you were hot when you were mad. Infuriating, sure. But hot. Hot in the way where she wanted to shut you up, make you cum until you weren’t fighting back — just babbling aimlessly, frown fully melted from your face. Fuck you until you learnt a lesson. The thought made her stand up a little straighter.

“Yeah?” She tilts her head daringly, and enraged you step up closer, bodies nearly touching just so you could yell in her face.

“My. Hou—” You go to repeat yourself for emphasis but you’re cut off by the feeling of her hand gripping your cheeks, smushing them. When she speaks, it’s calm and menacing. You stare up at her wide eyed.

“You’re not gonna talk to me like that. You’re embarrassed, sweet girl — and I feel for you, but don’t you ever yell in my face like that. You understand me?” She tilts her head further, eyes on you. You’re humiliated, knees knocking into eachother at her calling you sweet girl whilst berating you and you frown, still panting — all hot faced and furious. She uses your cheeks to make you nod and you groan. “Good. If you wanna talk about what happened, let’s talk. But before you come up here and start accusing me of shit, remember that you came in here searching, and you found that,” she turns your face so that you were looking at the strap on laying on the bed. She stays facing you, eyes browsing the side of your face now. Your eyes widen a little at the sight, the memory of using it replaying in your head. “And you decided to use it without asking me.” She steps back a little, eyeing you (not even bothering to hide the hunger anymore). “Okay. Say your piece.” She gestures with her hand and you collect yourself, pulling in a shaky breath.

You admit, the confidence from your tone had vanished. “I was just trying to look for my headphones. I wanted to work out.” You explain and she nods, encouraging you to go on. “You… you brought that into this house, why?” You point at the toy on the bed, the embarrassment starting to slip through again in your pathetic tone of voice.

“Its not your business what I bring with me in my own bag.” Her velvety voice was quick to answer and your brow creased, running out of reasons to shift the blame onto her.

“Well… you can’t bring things like that here it’s — it’s inappropriate.” You internally curse yourself out for stuttering.

“You didn’t seem to have any complaints an hour ago when you were trying to stuff it inside yourself.” She shrugs like she just couldn’t help it from leaving her mouth and in your embarrassment you turn to leave again, walking towards the door. She follows and reaches over your head and shuts it in front of you before you can, grabbing your arm and turning you around so that your back was pressed to it now as she looms over you. “What? Am I wrong?”

“Abby.” You go to complain, but it comes out as a weak whisper.

“Is that why you did it? Maybe you were trying to get caught so you’d have a reason to get all mad and go batshit crazy on me, huh? Still going ahead with that bullshit plan of yours to send me packing?” Abby theorises and you lower your gaze, head tilted towards the ground as you thought. It wasn’t that, you weren’t brave enough. You were genuinely just being disgusting and horny and got yourself caught — which to you was all the more shameful. She knocks your chin up with her knuckle, making you look up at her again. “Or maybe you wanted to get caught so you could be punished. Is that what you wanted? ‘That why you been such a fucking brat?”

“Not a brat.” You huff, though you couldn’t deny it any further than that.

“You know what a brat is? Girls like you,” She poked a finger into your chest. “Who wanna be put in their place so they act out. I’m starting to think that’s just what you need.”

You try and push off the door but she’s blocking you to do so, bodies too close. “Do you really think I’d come in here and yell at you just because I wanna get spanked or whatever?” You bite back, proud of the comeback until she roughly spins you around by the hips so your cheek was pressed to the wooden door, back a little arched. She takes a fist of your skirt and yanks it up, holding it to your lower back making you gasp — fully exposing your bare rear. She chuckles and you wanna die.

“I dunno, didn’t even bother putting on a new pair of panties before coming up in here. Seems to me like you knew what you were doing. Lost the bass in your voice too, smart girl. Where’d all that anger go?” Her hand is gentle when it cups your ass, feeling the meat of it in her hand. You could not believe this was happening. You were mortified. Soaked, but mortified.

You try to fight back with your words, but it’s coming out in little huffs and embarrassed pants at the feeling of her grabbing your ass. “I’m— m’gonna tell — gonna tell on—”

“You’re gonna tell on me?” She snickered. “Are you gonna tell the full story? What you were doing on the floor when I walked in?” She purs in your ear and you can hear her smiling. She’s sick.

You say nothing, because if you’re being honest you’re giving up on your resolve— the feeling of her hands on you just melting your anger away like ice. “No I didn’t think so.”

She gives your ass a light slap, just enough to jiggle it and make you whimper at the suddenness before turning you back around, eyes glancing between yours seriously. “You wanna know what I think?”

You sigh and nod, not trusting your voice at this point.

She gently takes you by the arm and walks you over to the foot of the bed, picking up the strap and holding it. “I think you need to clean my strap for me.”

The way she says it makes you feel hot and bothered, and you go to reach for it to shamefully disappear and wash it in the sink but she holds it out of your reach, raising her eyebrows playfully as she stares you down for a moment. “Not like that.”

She brings the strap down, stepping into the leg holes of the harness before pulling it up and adjusting it to fit her by the hoops at the hip. You watch, trembling — the sight of her standing there with a huge cock something you had only dreamt of, making you squeeze your thighs together. You hated yourself for how weak willed you’d become.

“You can clean it up that smart mouth of yours.” She smiles simply before placing both hands on your shoulders and pushing you down slowly to the ground. She sits too on the edge of the bed, spreading her thighs wide to accommodate to you between them. She wanted you to suck her off? Now that was just degrading. You pursed your lips, trying and failing to ignore the rush of slick seeping from you.

“Abby. Come on.” You whisper and she looks at you for a moment, making you shrink where you were kneeled before leaning forward, gently grasping your chin again, her face millimetres from yours.

“It’s the least you can do.” She threatens before leaning back on her hands, nodding towards her cock. She nearly folds and leans forward to kiss you when she sees the big, sweet, doe eyes you give her — so far removed from your usual glare. If she knew that all she had to do was dom the good girl out of you, her previous month would have been a lot easier.

You gingerly grip the shaft with your hand, bringing your face towards it. God, it smells like you still— to think that only an hour ago you were on the ground trying to shove it inside yourself. Your brows furrow as you kitten lick the top, before suckling on the top with a low moan in your throat gaining confidence. “Good girl.” She praises as you push down a little, sucking harder to the point where you can taste the breeding liquid. You’re not quite sure if it’s meant to be consumed but you don’t care, you don’t care about anything at this point.

You wanna push down further, but you’re struck with a thought and pull off her with a pop— glaring up at her with some of your leftover brattiness.

“What’s that face for?” She hums. You struggle to find your words.

“You… We’re…” You huff, sulkily and she watches the glimmer of longing pass over your face. “You’re making me suck you off and you haven’t even kissed me.” You finally get it out and she smirks, but not totally in a mean way — more so adoringly. Smushing your cheeks again with her hand, she pulls your face in, meeting you in the middle as her cock brushes against your chest as her lips meet yours. It’s a hard, wet, sloppy kiss with your cheeks smushed but it’ll do, and when she pulls off you with a loud smack she roughly rubs her thumb beneath your pouty bottom lip to remove the residual saliva. “Now get back to work.”

She holds back a giggle at the sight of your own pleased smile as you go back down, licking up the sides and cleaning off the plastic — groaning at the residual taste of you clinging to it. This was cruel, wicked even — and you were enjoying it.

“Thats it. Knew I’d be able to find better use for that mouth. Must be tired from running it so much.” Her voice is gentle despite the degradation and it fills your brain with a hazy, muddled fog — not sure how to feel anymore. You pull up for air after taking as much as you can, and as soon as your lips wrap around the dick again, Abby can’t help herself from pressing her hand down on the back of your head gently, muttering a “‘Can do better than that, pretty.” as you gag around her. This seemed to be the first straw in what broke the camels back.

It had dawned on you, half way through sucking her off that after this she was likely just to throw you out on your ass, back to your room to take care of yourself. Getting you on your knees infront of her was her way of winning once and for all, and this was only one last humiliation to shut you up completely. You hadn’t realised you were in your head until Abby was pulling her strap out your mouth, tilting your chin up to her as she leant forward once more. “Hey. Where’d you go just now?”

You try and break away, trying to catch her tip in your mouth again, jaw a little agape and tongue peeping out but she grips your chin more firmly, shaking you a little. “Hey. Look at me.”

“S’nothing Abby. Just lemme—”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head.

“Then what?”

You suck in a deep breath. “Are you gonna chuck me out after this? Are you… are you only doing this to embarrass me?” She stares at you in perplexity as she watched your mouth turn down, emotions catching up with you as you squeeze your eyes shut — two fat tears sliding down your tears.

“Hey, no.” She’s still a little confused, but she wipes your tears away with the back of her hand anyway. She sighs, pulling you up by the arm and sitting you on her thigh. “Okay. Maybe this kind of thing isn’t for you. That’s okay.”

You wipe your nose, a little calmer and clearer headed now. “I was enjoying it. I think I just… I feel like no one cares about me. It just caught up with me that’s all. We can get back to it.” You go to stand up off her but she holds you tighter, making you look at her.

“I care about you. I stupidly, really care about you.” She speaks sincerely, and you stare at her analytically before realising that she actually truly means it. Abby cares about you.

She pulls you in gently this time, lips locking against yours. It’s not mean, or sarky, or trying to tease you — it’s a real meaningful kiss and you just melt. All that anger, all that competitiveness just melts off you like ice cream on a hot and hazy day. You wrap your arms around her neck, letting her lick into your mouth and dominate your tongue with her own, pulling it in and sucking on it making you shift on her thigh and whimper. You think about grinding down on her thick, cargo covered thighs and how good that might feel after a month of staring at them — but before you can, she’s easing you to lay on your back on the bed.

“Can show you how much I care about you. Maybe we can start over, how’s that sound?” She whispers into the space below your ear, pressing a wet kiss there and you let out a shaky huff, nodding. “Gonna need your words though. That’s how this works, sweet girl.”

“Please show me.”

“Like that, good job.”

Her hands look large, but they feel even larger — especially when they’re beside eachother, running up beneath your top— fingertips brushing over your hard nipples as she tests the waters, smiling against your skin when your back arches up into her, a sensitive whine quietly passing your lips. She slowly drags up your top, pushing herself down your body to pepper kisses down the centre of your chest, letting out a quiet groan of her own when she grips your tit with her hand, massaging the plush flesh. “M—outh” You choke out in a pleasured haze and she chuckles, eyebrows jumping up in amusement as she adjusts her position.

“Should have known you’d know exactly what you want.” She teases before flattening her tongue over the bud of your nipple, pulling back to blow cold air on it to harden it making you wince sensitively. The smile barely leaves her when she dips down, wrapping her pouty pink lips around the bud and sucking, soothing her tongue over it and digging her teeth in ever so slightly, letting them scrape over your nipple when she pulls away. “Fuck, so pretty.” She grits her teeth, reaching up and grabbing it in her hand again letting it jiggle beneath her palm.

You buck your hips again, which directs her attention to your lower regions — forcing her to depart from your breast to continue her journey down your body. She sits up, both hands encasing your waist, rubbing thumbs into your lower ribs gently. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the bold question and your eyes flutter open, not quite remembering when you closed them. “No.”

She grins, like that was just the answer she was after and climbs back down— kissing your stomach and then flipping your skirt up so she could kiss your pubic mound. You shiver, a little insecure but filled with desire more than anything as her hands slide up between your legs. “Open these up for me.” She whispers, and her hot breath wafts over your needing cunt when she reveals it, pulling back to look at it.

You feel your chest and face get hot as she stares— dark eyed and hungry straight at your most private area. “So fucking pretty.” She whispers, thumbs sliding either side of your fat lips and pulling them apart, her brows furrowing. “You always get this wet? Jesus.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t quite have the guts to tell her that you don’t remember the last time someone had aroused you this much, to the point where it’s taken over your body and brain entirely.

She leans in, and you expect her tongue to dart out first — but she spits, directly on your clit making you jolt with a whimper, then chasing it up with the flat of her tongue as her thick arms wrap around your thighs, jaw practically unhinging as she starts eating you like her life depends on it.

You moan, loudly and with less shame as time passes now, grinding your hips up into her face — which she matches by pinning them back down to the bed, only pulling away to briefly grab a cushion from the bed and slot it beneath your hips to elevate you slightly — so fast and expertly you barely realise she’s done it before she’s back to mouthing at your crotch.

“Feels so good!” You whine and she chuckles against you, the vibration of which sends shockwaves through to your stomach. “Need you to fuck me.” You mutter, more to yourself but she acknowledges it anyway, the hands that were massaging your hips sliding between your thighs.

“If you want to take my cock I’m gonna need to prep you. You saw yourself, s’never gonna fit with how tight you are right now.”

With this new information, you feel her finger tips sliding through your soaked folds gently as she suckles on your clit relentlessly. You whine, trying your best not to clamp down when she slides in her finger, and then another. You were in heaven, panting up to the ceiling as she fingerfucks you, l your hand sliding down to encase itself in her golden hair — glowing from the sunset streaming in through the window.

She moans as she tastes you, brows furrowed and eyes clamped shut like she could feel every movement of her tongue herself. “Gonna give you one more okay? Need to stretch you— still so fucking tight.” She speaks against you and all you can do is nod, in fact at that point you’d probably let her do anything she wanted to you. It was such a relief to drop the act, to just relax and let her take care of you.

A third finger prods at your entrance and you wince as she slowly slides it in, looking up at you to watch your expression — brows pinching and eye twitching at the feeling, walls wrapping tightly round her thick fingers. “There you go, pretty girl. Took that like a champ.” She kisses your hip bone before getting back to work, slowly and experimentally fucking her three fingers in and out, curling them up to grind against your upper gummy inner wall.

“Feel like I’m gonna cum, Abby it’s — it’s so much.” You shake, toes curled so hard they’d gone white and she hums kindly against you, pulling off your clit again with a loud spitty pop.

“I know baby, I know. Let it out.” She whispers, rushed and syrupy like she was too on the precipice of a moan. She moves her tongue in quick successions around your clit as you start to buck and ride against her fingers, a clammy sound matching this — your wetness creating music against her knuckles as you fuck against them. “Cum, smart girl, cum.”

You do, and you’re so full it’s like there’s nowhere for the cum to go — and therefore you feel like you might explode, suddenly letting out loud cries and whines as you shake and jerk on the bed, only to be held down by Abby’s strong arms. She moans too, because you’re dripping down her wrists and her chin — seeming to have a never ending quantity of cum as she laps it up. You taste exactly how she thought you would.

You can’t even tell she’s stopped because your legs are still violently shaking for a minute, coming down from your orgasm felt like it would never end— but you were grounded by the feeling of Abby’s lips on your cheek, sliding her hands under your back to hold you. “I know, it’s okay. Good job.” She cooes into your hair, silencing your nonsensical babbles. She doesn’t push you to move onto the next thing, just stroking your skin and pressing her lips to your skin until you were calm.

Abby feels tugging down below, and looks down between your bodies to see your hand wrapped around her shaft, tugging towards you as your legs fall open again limply. She winces like she can feel it, and she swears she can when you lazily run your thumb over the tip that had drizzled some of the pearlescent liquid out from all the movement. She watches you play with the spillage between your fingers, before bringing it to your puffy cunt, spreading it through your folds and whimpering at the sensitivity.

“Shit, babe.” She sighs out, the room feeling suddenly much warmer. “You wanna continue?”

“Mhm. Was prepping to take you, remember?” You brush the loose strand from her braid hanging over her cheek out of her face. The gesture is intimate, like two lovers who have been together for a while. You almost feel embarrassed again but she turns her cheek and kisses your palm.

She nestles the pads of her fingers into your folds again, sliding around in your arousal and you sigh out at the sensitivity, the urge to be filled returning from its brief satisfaction. “Well you’re definitely wet enough.” She smirks in disbelief, and you can’t believe that there was a time where you would have rolled your eyes at such comments — now only doe eyed and lip bitten as your legs fall open wider. Her fingers are replaced by her strap, sliding up and down — collecting your wetness along it, a whimper leaving you when the tip nudges against your swollen clit.

“Think you’re ready for me?” She asks and before she’s even finished the sentence you moan out a quick and desperate ‘yes!’ making her laugh, keeling into herself with her chin to her chest for a moment. She looks cute and you want to kiss her again. In due time, you think. “How long has it been since you last got fucked?” She continues sliding her strap up and down. Abby secretly thinks she’s stalling, because she wants this closeness to last.

You shake your head breathlessly, trying to clear the fog in order to answer her simple question. Why was she asking questions at a time like this?

“Like — nine months maybe a year?” You answer and she nods, understandingly.

“It’s no wonder you’re so tight. This is gonna be quite a squeeze, yeah?” She looks you deep in your eyes, like she did every time she wanted you to really listen.

“I know, s’okay.” You breathe, and at this she takes your hand in her larger one.

“S’gonna be big. You can squeeze my hand if you want. Deep breath in.” She instructs and you slowly inhale as she pushes in, your hand squeezing hers as you clench around her thick length.

The “Fuck” you let out in a breathy groan is obscene and borderline pornagraphic, which makes Abby fight the urge to bottom out completely and shove her cock inside you fully all at once, but she’s patient, her breath hitching as she reassures you.

“I know, I know.” is all she can say as she pushes in further.

“W—wait.” You tense up a little and she freezes with no hesitation, letting you adjust to the stretch as she drops kisses onto your jaw until you were ready. This happened a couple of times, and she’d oblige to your wishes each time you halt her until she was fully seated inside you.

You felt like the air had been punched out of you, Abby was so deep. “Hows that?” She whispers.

“So big.” You mewl.

“Taking it so well. See, we got it all in the end.” She praises, quiet and gleeful watching you blissed out beneath her.

“Y’not getting paid enough for this, he’s not paying you enough to deal with me.” You babble into her shoulder in regards to her deal with your father, legs trembling around her hips.

“You kidding me? He’s paying me to fuck his daughters pretty pussy, think I’ll be okay.” She scoffs into your neck, sucking wet kisses into the skin there, hips still not moving as you adjust.

“S’not why he’s paying you.” Your nose turns up and she chuckles before lifting her face to hover right above yours, lips occasionally brushing. She begins to move her hips and you both gasp at the feeling.

“How about… instead of arguing with me… you shut up and take my fucking strap.” She whispers temptingly and you go limp again, apart from your hips which twitch against her movements letting her grind her strap in and out of you slowly.

“Oh my god!” You cry, letting go of her hand to wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into you to connect your lips. She lets you whimper against her and suck on her bottom lip whilst she concentrates on finding that angle. She knows she’s struck gold when your legs jerk around her before your heels dig into her ass.

“Faster please Abby, please faster!” You sound deranged, at the point she wanted you all along — cockdrunk and desperate without a care in the world. She clenches around nothing at the thought of just keeping you this dumb all the time.

She speeds up on command, hips smacking against you now as she pulls away to watch the way your tits bounce beneath her. “Oh baby, you’re fucking taking it.” She pants, impressed at how quickly you’ve allowed her to really go in on you. She reaches between you to rub your clit and you squeal, tears springing to your eyes. “Yeah? Want me to rub it? S’it that good, pretty girl?”

“Yes! Please! I— I can’t Abby it’s too — Abby please I wanna— need to cum!” Your hands are curled into her t-shirt adorably which only makes her go harder, practically punching the sounds out of you like a squeaky toy each time she thrusts. You feel yourself teetering over the edge once more, abused pussy relentlessly sucking her in with obscene wet noises attached. Before you can release, your hand reaches down to cup the balls of the strap. “Want it inside, please Ab— please want it inside me—” You ramble and she catches on, and as you tense up, letting out a pained whine as you cum, she slides her hand on top of yours, pressing down to empty the cum lube inside you. The feeling of the warm liquid spurting against your cervix makes you shake, sobbing uncontrollably suddenly as you ride it out.

“There you go, good fucking girl. You like that don’t you? Fuck, letting me breed you like this the first time we fuck? You dirty fucking girl. Such a pretty fucking girl.” She’s babbling too, unravelled by the beauty that was you cumming the way you did. She knew she was good at fucking, but to make someone cry like that was driving her insane.

You’re floating when she pulls out, the two of you breathless and fucked out. Effortlessly, she pushes her hands under your arms and drags you further up the bed until you’re laying against the pillow and she drops down besides you, pulling you into her chest, t-shirt slightly damp with sweat. You listen to her heart thundering in her chest, and it lulls you into a sleepy and relaxed zone, pulling your thigh up over her hip with her help, her thumb stroking the crease where your ass and thigh connects.

“Did so good. The sounds you make are so pretty.” She whispers like she was trying to lull you to sleep. You shift, breath stammering in your throat and nearly choking you when your used pussy glides over her shaft— the veins and ridges catching against your clit making your hips jerk on her, unable to stop yourself from slowly and feverishly rubbing down on her as you breathe heavily in the quiet room.

“Want more, sweet girl?” She cooes, hand running down the back of your head to cup it lovingly.

“Too sore.” It comes out muffled into her t-shirt, aimlessly rocking your hips.

“That’s alright. Just keep… keep doing this.” She relaxes into the bed, kissing your forehead and letting you please yourself, grinding into the mixture of your juices and the fake cum soaking the both of your lower halves. It was messy and bordering on gross, but made your needy clit throb all the more. You were truly insatiable. Had it really been that long?

She sighed in pleasure at the feeling of you grinding against her, the position making her harness press deliciously into her own clit, pleasing you both. Perhaps she too could get off from this.

The sun had gone in, and the room had grown dark. But this time, you weren’t afraid — infact the growing inkiness of the sky was the last thing on your mind— safe, warm and dumb in Abby’s strong arms.

Maybe you’d let her stick around.

#bodyguard!abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson au #abby tlou2 smut

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simpingland · 9 months

Text

Hidden door to your bed. // Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Aemond and you have spend several years looking for each other's company, each other's touch. But the waiting has to come to an end, even if it means that Aemond has to look for the secret path to your room.

TW: smut and fluff, p in v, fingering, finger sucking.

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

Since you were children, you and Aemond had been close to each other, even though no one wanted you to be. You always found yourselves in a strange dance between columns, chairs and people that allowed you to be connected even though you had no link. You were there to accompany his sister, and he was there to help his brother, yet he looked for you in every corner, and you approached him at every break. Your smile became a habit, and he only let your hands caress him.

You liked him from the first moment, and you liked him even with his scar and patch. You liked the slender man he had become, and you dreamed of marrying him. It was never to be, but you had the best of times together. Aemond adored you too, but he had more trouble telling you. Only the longing to touch each other remained. You brushed hands at the crossroads where other people's eyes could see you. It might look like an accident, but it never was. Aemond would make excuses to pass you and pretend to be clumsy. You used to steal something from his attire. It could be one of his swords. It could be one of his books, a simple glove... you would get him to walk behind you, begging you to give it back. It was always in an unserious tone, and when he grew up, he didn't need words, just to look at you. Something about that intense, serious face tickled you lower down in your stomach. And then came your favourite part, which was to leave the stolen object where you had found it. You would place the glove on his hand, the book on his chest, and the knife in his belt. And then he, trying to frighten you, would grasp your hand tightly, as if to reprimand you, but he would stare at you, and as your smile disappeared, his own would form. Aemond loved that mischievous smile you gave him when you disappeared, always turning to look at him, making it clear that you had never frightened him.

In the loneliest of times, Aemond would dare to stroke your hair, brushing it away from your neck and combing it as you talked. He looked few people in the eye, but always you. He liked to have you sitting next to him, so he could drop his hand on your leg, and you would always caress his knee or drop your head on his shoulder. He enjoyed your laughter because it also made you push him, and feeling your hands in his arms was always a pleasure for him.

There was one trip north of the capital, where the cold caught the court by surprise, and the prince noticed how exaggeratedly red your cheeks had become.

"It seems that the cold has a way with you, my lady," he whispered in your ear as dusk began to set in, no one else being in the corner at that hour.

"Do I look dead to you, my prince?" you replied, as proud and smiling as usual.

"No...quite the opposite..." he ran his thumb across your cheek. "You look more alive than ever."

"What I do have to admit...is that I'm a little cold, though I suppose you dragons don't understand that." Your voice dropped a few tones, as if you were suddenly much more humble.

"Good thing I could help you warm up then."

After travelling down your cheek, his thumb rested for a second on your chin, and his eyes travelled to your lips. He caressed them and watched as you opened them, your tongue poking out shyly. His impulses led him to push his thumb into your mouth, and the warmth came immediately as you began to suck him gently. He was speechless as he felt your tongue, and pulled it out to touch your lips again and watch them glisten with your saliva. Just imagining your heat elsewhere turned him on. You looked into his eyes with a mixture of determination but weakness, as if you knew you were committing a reputational hazard. Aemond drew his finger definitively out to grasp your neck gently, pulling you closer to his face and ready for a kiss.

"Prepare the carriages," Otto's approaching voice snapped you out of your trance, and it was you who pulled away sharply.

"Where are you going?" Aemond asked urgently.

"I cannot let them see me, my prince." This time, you were not smiling, fearful that it was too late.

"Let me escort you to your carriage then," he walked towards you but you backed away.

"Not a good idea..." you looked down at his trousers, "I think you should hide to...calm down."

He had a noticeable erection, of course, but Aemond didn't seem embarrassed, and you seemed even proud.

"This is your fault, my lady," Aemond sentenced, as if waiting for you to finish what you had started.

"If you care too much, a Targaryen prince would know the secret route to my room in the Red Keep." And back came that mischievous smile he saw every time he blinked, already you were walking away, your dress marking the shape of your body, but hiding all that Aemond needed to know.

The nights that followed, Aemond spent them all walking the secret corridors and mapping out how to find your room. You would watch him walk near your door, analysing the whole architecture of the place. At every crossroads, he would look at you lustfully, and when no one was watching, he would deposit a slow kiss on your hand, sometimes on your cheek, your favourite part being your neck.

"I hope you know that you make me lose sleep, when I don't stay awake drawing a map to get to you, I stay awake because I can't stop imagining the things I would do when I find you" he had whispered in your ear on one occasion.

And every night you waited for him, staring at the clearest part of the room. You hadn't gone to bed yet, you heard a noise nearby, growing, on that same side of the wall. You pressed your body against it, listening carefully to what was behind those stones. Before the noise grew louder, you pushed hard and the secret door that had been there so long creaked open. What you saw beyond it was darkness, a small shaft of moonlight, and Aemond climbing the stairs that led up to where you were. Only he was able to distract you from your amazement.

"My girl... as smart as ever" he whispered as he saw you. He finished climbing the stairs.

"This place, it's creepy as well as wonderful." Your surprise caused him some tenderness, he stood watching you.

"Don't you like being in a place like this? I find it intriguing..." He lowered his gaze to your lips.

"I certainly find it... exciting, my prince."

He let you smile for half a second before pulling you into the room with a kiss. He had to bend down to capture your lips and you wrapped your arms around him to hold you. It wasn't rough, and it wasn't quick, but it felt like an enchantment that dazed your senses, and it was only when he pulled away to close the door that you became aware. He was there, with you, not as dressed as usual, but you had him all to yourself, and he had you all to himself. He joined you again. You kissed him then, caressing his face and putting your feet on tiptoe. When his tongue brushed your lips, you opened your mouth wider to let him in, and you began to melt and lose your breath. He removed your dress with gentle caresses, and stepped back to watch it fall from your body.

"I've been dreaming of seeing you like this since the day I met you," he confessed.

"I've dreamed of you too, my prince." You kissed his neck, tugging at his shirt.

"Then I will be generous, I will give you what you ask for."

You undressed him yourself, leaving kisses on his chest, and he had to pull his head back as you removed his trousers, brushing against his sex which was beginning to harden as it had that night. You pushed him onto your bed, his clothes already off, his boots off without you even noticing. You were on top of him, brushing your thighs against his legs as you sat on top of him. You stroked his cock to watch him enjoy.

"I need to feel you inside me, now, I've waited too long," he said.

"Won't you get tired of me right away?" It was half joking, but Aemond lifted his torso to get closer to you and took your face in his hands.

"I have travelled the most hidden corners of this castle just to see you, my lady...I will never tire of you. Now I want my reward." He kissed you gently before he felt his fingers preparing your entrance.

At first, it was uncomfortable, but his finger began to feel quite nice, then the second, and his thumb began to touch your pearl. Just the sight of you with your eyes closed and murmuring his name made Aemond the happiest man in Westeros.

"I need to feel you, my lady...I'm going to fuck you with the gentleness you deserve."

And then you felt him enter, as long as he was, and the feeling of fulfilling a dream was more exciting than anything else. You knew what you had to do, the ladies had told you how to satisfy a man. By squeezing your sex, Aemond felt unparalleled pleasure.

"How tight... how wet... my lady has made her body my favourite place." He was kissing you, or at least trying to, for when he lifted your hips and lowered them to penetrate you, his abilities were clouded.

Soon you picked up rhythm, and his pelvis was bumping against your most sensitive area. You wrapped your arms around Aemond to hold on to something, he moaned in your ear, and you moaned in his. Almost unnoticed, you removed his patch. He stopped moving, covering his eye urgently.

"Let me see you..." you demanded, "I want to see your face."

"I don't want you to be horrified."

You gently pushed his hand away, placing it on your waist. And when he tried to pull hiz face away, you held it in front of yours. You left a kiss on his jewel and placed another on his lips.

"You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen."

Then Aemond picked you up by the waist, without leaving you, and put you under him. He thrust into you again, first hard, surprising you and eliciting a gasp. But he slowed down, put two fingers in your mouth, letting you lick them as he knew you could, and placed them on your clitoris, still penetrating you.

"I need to see you satisfied..."

He kept thrusting, rhythmically, as he moved his fingers energetically, sending strokes of pleasure all over your body. You knew from the vein in his neck that he was as close as you were to collapse.

"By the gods..." he said into the air. "I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum."

You didn't even announce it, he noticed it in your trembling as you climaxed, and just from watching you like that, Aemond released everything he had contained inside, his seed filling you completely.

Aemond bent down to catch his breath near your lips, his body resting against yours, his hands stroking your hair as yours caressed his back. You looked into his eyes before laughing, full of joy, though then came concern.

"What's wrong?" Aemond sounded serious. You smiled ruefully at him.

"The Moon Tea, they say it tastes awful. But we should go order it from the kitchens."

"No way, I'm not going to let you drink that poison."

"But..."

He towered over you again, with a soft, mischievous smile.

"The future princess of the Seven Kingdoms will drink nothing but water from the sweetest rivers and wine from the freshest grapes."

You understood his words a second later, and the mirth of his insinuation made your eyes sparkle.

"I do not intend to marry Daeron, my Prince," you joked. Aemond hid a laugh, and covered your face affectionately.

He looked back up at you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"Of course not, he would never know how to find the hidden door to your bed."

#house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd

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transformation4life · 11 months

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Army, Man

Juan was your average guy before his life was changed forever. Decent grades at his dream college, but no friends to speak of. So when he received a letter to join the US army in his assigned mailbox Juan was very confused. "The army? They must joking." Juan spoke as he looked at the recruitment flyer in his dorm room.

Juan and being enlisted in the army sounded like a twisted joke to him. He was scrawny and could barely do one pushup in gym class. Either way, Juan noticed a number at the bottom of the flyer in big bold letters and some voice in his head was nagging at him to call it.

"I guess it wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll be fun! Who knows!" So Juan grabbed his phone and dialed the number.

Some rings later and it sounded like a guy picked a phone. "Hey there, Name's Gruff, I'm assuming you're calling cause of the flyer you got in the mail, yeah?" Gruff's was deep and masculine. Definitely Juan's type but I bet he was straight.

"Y-Yeah! I thought I'd give it a shot since it's not like I got anything better to do!"

"That's the spirit man! Our army count has been real low due to... events so even one guy joining is great! But first I just need to ask you a few questions..." "A-Alright. Go on ahead..." Juan had to wonder what they would ask. "First question! Are you sure you want to join the army?" Gruff's tone was dead serious on this one and it shook Juan up a bit. "U-Uh... Yeah!" Juan was too far in to quit now at least that was his reasoning.

"Wonderful! Next question. How muscular are you?"

Juan frowned. As mentioned before, he barely had muscle and never went to the gym. Still, he felt the need to answer honestly.

"N-Not really sir. Sorry." "Haha don't worry about it! Alright that's all see you soon!" Gruff hung up before Juan could even say bye.

Juan was a bit shaken but that wasn't too bad. Juan pondered the interaction and something hit him. "Wait... I didn't tell him my address and he said he'll see me soo-" A wave of pain immediately hit Juan and he fell to the floor.

It wasn't before long Juan's body began to grow and get more muscular. Juan's arms became much beefier as his biceps were the size of sports balls. Six perfect abs popped onto Juan's stomach as his nonexistent chest began to inflate and become thick poppable pecs as his back expanded to support his new musculature making his tshirt real tight. Soon after, Juan's neck got thicker as his adam's apple was now ever more prominent than before as he gained some facial hair around his mouth. Juan's legs were next to grow as his thighs became much larger and his legs more defined as feet increased some sizes. Luckily Juan wasn't wearing any shoes but Juan's socks definitely didn't survive the growth. Some more minor changes appeared like a bigger dick and Juan's body aging physically. It's a miracle none of Juan's clothes ripped apart but it's not like it mattered anyway as Juan's apparel began to change.

Juan's graphic tee became more tough material and more generic as it became a dark green. It was still tight around Juan's figure though. Next up was Juan's pants as it gained a camouflage pattern and became cargo pants. A belt magically appeared and looped around the belt holes of his news pants as well as an army hat wrapping around Juan's head. Juan's socks were stitched back together and went a dark black and suddenly army boots were now being worn by Juan. The last change was an army tag appearing around Juan's neck saying "Juan Graham". Juan was now the definition of a buff army man.

Once the pain subsided and Juan regained his bearings he readjusted his glasses and looked at the mirror nearby. "What the- WHAT THE FU- Oh god, my voice... my EVERYTHING!" Juan was amazed but also scared. He gained muscles in seconds but how?

And before Juan could question things further, Juan's phone rang once again. Juan saw that it was the army recruit number. He concluded they must be involved so he answered the call.

"Hey Juan, ready for your first day?" It was Gruff again "First day? You did this to me, didn't you?"

"Not sure what you mean, but you agreed to join the army and we need you now." "But I don't even know anything about how to do anythin-" One more sound of pain hit Juan as memories of years of military training and gym workouts filled his mind. Everything he could ever need to be in the army was now in his brain. Juan now much more confident started a new sentence. "Nevermind. When does the car get here?"

"That's our Juan! Should be there soon. You can walk out and wait already." "Perfect. See you soon." Juan hung up and left his dorm and old life behind. It was probably for the best anyway. He much preferred being a beefcake army man than some twink in college.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- Apologies for not posting for a couple months. I got major writer's block but here's a story for you guys hope you like it!

#muscle tf #male tf #mind change #muscle transformation #military tf

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nhlclover · 10 months

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𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 | 𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈

summary: after pining for one another for a while, you finally make a move

warnings: not proofread, the section written in italics is a flashback, mentions of drinking, little bit of steamy activity and allusions to sex, kissing

word count: 1.31k

You were starting to go cross-eyed from staring at him so much.

Every chance you got, whenever Adam was preoccupied in a conversation with Dylan who was standing next to him, you’d catch a glance at him.

You were out at a bar in Nashville, celebrating Adam being drafted by Columbus. Adam had invited tons of people to be in his group of support for the draft, including you.

You and Adam met in class, being partnered together for a mini assignment. Over the course of the project and the rest of the school year, the two of you became close friends. Somewhere along the way, you’d developed feelings for him. However, you couldn’t work up the courage to tell him how you felt. So you stayed friends. Close friends.

His right hand was gripping his glass of whiskey, beads of condensation rolling down to his knuckles. You eyed him as he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. Your brain was wracked with images of his hands running up and down your sides, getting to know your body like it’s his own.

“Can you quit staring at my brother like that? It’s creeping me out.”

You turn to face Luca whose face is scrunched up in disgust.

“What?” You say.

“You’re looking at him like you’re being starved and he’s a fucking filet mignon.” Luca scoffs, sipping from his beer.

Your cheeks heat up, trying to defend yourself against Luca. “I’m not…we’re not…I don’t like him like that.”

You immediately regret even saying anything as your words come out rushed and unsure.

“Oh please everyone here knows you two are drooling over one another and frankly it’s disgusting.” He says.

You sigh. “Is it that obvious?” You ask.

“Are you kidding me?” Luca asks, a grin tugging on his lips. “The tailgate party for the final football game of the season? Do you remember that?”

Adam knew what he was doing. He had to. He was wearing the UMich t-shirt you had cut into a tank after you told him he needed more variety in his wardrobe. You had also added that tanks were hot on guys. He had to be wearing it for you, right?

But then again there was the chance that this was all in your head. The flirting that Adam had been doing since you’d finished your joint assignment could all be in your head and was just him being nice.

Suddenly Adam was on his way over to you and your friends, who made an excuse to leave so the two of you could talk alone.

“Your DIY is a hit.” He says.

“I am an artist if I do say so myself.” You chuckle, fiddling with the choppy left sleeve of Adam’s shirt.

Your fingers brush his skin, a slight rush running up your fingertips. You look at Adam’s face, a soft smile on his lips as he looks down at you.

“What?” You ask.

“You look good.” He says.

“Thank you.” You smile.

There’s a beat of silence while the two of you hold eye contact.

“What, you’re not going to tell me I look good?” He asks.

You scoff at his cocky comment. “I don’t need to tell you something you already know.”

“Oh, you think I look good?” Adam smirks.

“That is not what I said.” You say.

“Mhm, but that’s what you were thinking.” He laughs.

Your cheeks flush pink, Adam smiling at the reaction he got out of you. He rests a hand on the wall, leaning over you.

“I’m serious, you look amazing.” He says.

Your cheeks flush even pinker, if possible, Adam slowly leaning his head down.

“Get a room!”

You and Adam turn your heads to where some of his teammates are. All of them are staring at you, smirking and laughing at the two of you. Adam flips them off, turning back to you. “I’m sorry about them.” He sighs.

“I-it’s okay. I’m going to go find my friends.” You say, weaving through the crowd to find your friends.

Adam walks over to his friends, a fake smile on his lips. “I hope you guys are all impotent.” He says.

“You’re blushing just thinking about him.” Luca groans.

You glance over to Adam who you find looking right back at you.

“Listen,” Luca says, drawing your eyes off his brother. “Go to him. Get out of here, and take him with you.”

“Are you whoring out your brother?” You ask jokingly.

Luca rolls his eyes, pushing you towards Adam. You walk over to Adam, stopping next to Dylan. When Dylan sees you, he makes an excuse, leaving the two of you alone.

“I just wanted to say congrats, again.” You say.

“Thank you.” Adam smiles.

“I’m going to head out now, though.” You say. “Go back to the hotel…”

You trail off, hoping he would pick up what you were putting down. Looking down at you, you feel your heartbeat skip under his gaze. “Okay.” Adam says.

That’s it? You furrow your eyebrows slightly, expecting Adam to have picked up on what you were insinuating. You are slightly confused until a smirk begins to tug on his lips. You should’ve expected this, as his attitude was a common thing you got to see. Something you’d always wanted to force away.

He stayed silent, not offering you much more than his eyes dragging up and down your body. Was he going to make you spell it out? If Adam was going to make you jump through hoops, you were at least going to do it under your terms.

“Yeah, go back… Get out of this tight dress, maybe take a hot bath… Try on my new set from Victoria Secret…” You trail off.

Adam gulps, and you can practically see him imagining you in a matching lingerie set. You had him obsessed with you and you completely understood why.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, shifting his feet to try and adjust himself.

You giggled, liking the effect you had on him. You rest your hands on his chest, flattening his dress shirt. You can practically feel his racing heart in his chest.

“Of course, there’s always room for a plus one.” You say softly.

That’s enough to push Adam over the edge, grabbing his glass from the table and downing the remainder of his drink. He takes your hand, pulling you out of the restaurant. You briefly stop by Luca, Adam asking him to tell their guests that he wasn’t feeling well so they were going back to the hotel. Luca agrees to cover, sneakily holding his hand out to high-five you as you pass him.

You and Adam step out into the warm Nashville air, walking down the sidewalk toward the car that Adam had rented. He hands you the keys, seeing as he had drunk and you hadn’t. You slide in the driver's seat, Adam’s hand finding your thigh immediately.

You start up the car, turning onto the street. You hit a light, looking over at Adam, whose eyes hadn’t left your face since you got in the car. The streetlights lit up his face, his normally light blue eyes looking like a darker indigo colour in the nighttime.

You continue down the streets of Nashville, eventually pulling into the parking lot of your hotel. You two were fast into the lobby and into the elevator. As soon as the doors shut, Adam’s hands were on your hips, pressing you against the metal wall. His lips connect to yours, your hands going into his hair. He deepens the kiss, causing you to instinctively tug on his roots, eliciting a groan.

When the doors open, you split apart, darting down the hall to your room. Fumbling with the keycard, you eventually unlock the door, you and Adam slipping inside, your tongues a tangled mess.

#adam fantilli #adam fantilli x reader #columbus blue jackets #nhl #nhl imagine #hockey #umich hockey #umich

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jacevelaryonswife · 11 months

Text

You got me losing control

You looked at him again, anxious, watching him approach cautiously until he shortened the distance between your bodies. “I want you tonight... if you want me...”

pairing: aemond targaryen x wife!reader

warnings: smut, p in v sex, english is not my first language. 3,240 words

aemond targaryen masterlist

Your marriage to Prince Aemond of House Targaryen was a blessing to your family. No matter how noble a birth or reputation was before Westeros, the union with a representative of royalty is the summit of relevance, respect and sophistication that a house can achieve — and that's exactly how you and your family came to be seen and treated in Kingslanding.

After the announcement of the engagement, certain rumors about the behavior and appearance of your betrothed stirred some concerns about your future and safety. Prince Aemond was a robust, polite, healthy young man and a prodigy in the art of swords; he was also a lover of books, history, philosophy and very reserved, especially after the incident. On the other hand, he was also described as easily irritable, intimidating, serious, silent, ruthless and deformed.

None of you were presented properly before the engagement, which made the following weeks strange, tense and reluctant, even if the effort to alleviate such a situation was mutual — shy and slow as well. You had not yet decided if he didn’t approve of your choice as his future lady wife or if that (contained, cordial and impatient) was just his way. Courtesy was not a problem until it became excessive as a barrier and you begged the Mother for unhappiness to cross your path. You were a lady more than suitable for a wedding, you considered yourself beautiful, polite and affable within your own limits, any Lord would be more than graced to have you by his side, according to your lady mother, and so you expected your new husband to find it.

Everything seemed to go well in the following weeks after the wedding. Even reserved and mysterious, Aemond was kind, attentive and worried about spending some moments of the day with you beyond duty, the construction of intimacy and trust was still slow, but quite satisfactory — in addition, your dresses and jewelry were more beautiful and extravagant than those of the other ladies. However, there was something that terrified you and your husband from the tip of your toes to the last hair: bedtime.

It was infinitely the strangest and most tense situation that your relationship with the prince experienced. You learned that even in moments where his were nervous and not knowing how to act he would still try to maintain the imposing and ruthless posture, but with easy-to-read nuances that revealed that he hadn’t idea what was happening. The consummation of the marriage was the worst physical pain ever felt in your life, although fast, it was extremely uncomfortable and unpleasant. The second night he bed you was even shorter, as a knock outside the shared room in the service of the queen hindered the hardness of his sword. Already the third time his own virility failed and served to create worrying thoughts about your lord husband's lack of interest in you. What if your appearance didn't please he? Or your inexperience? He was also inexperienced, it couldn't be that.

Everything got worse when your moon blood came and the realization of not being able to generate a fruit with his seed left you highly distressed. What if everything got worse after that? Rumors would certainly circulate about the prince's unfit wife and your fertility would be put in check. Such moods were enough to keep you disturbed, sad and ashamed by the previous and present days of your moon blood, until things suddenly changed when the week passed and the way your husband looked so tempting during the sparing session with Sir Criston Cole made an avid heat bloom all over your body. It wasn't even that warm in Kingslanding but he has never been more handsome and virile before, with his silver hair flying through the courtyard and his clothes leaving his delicious defined body even more manly.

What was going on with you?

You knew that the only thing in your mind was that you couldn't wait to have him alone later.

And that's what you did when you left dinner earlier and have a bold and daring bed linen along with loose hair for your husband. The cream-colored dress was made of the finest silk of lys and fell slightly through your body with long sleeves that didn’t close in your arms and left them exposed when moving. You were with your back to the bed and facing the door, anxiously waiting for the arrival of your prince.

You felt a restlessness composed of warmth and desire to go through your body and focus on your femininity in the eagerness for his touch, from the hands exploring your body, your breasts, for the intimate and carnal connection to be consummated. The reason for that was strange to you, since the other times you were together were nothing short of uncomfortable, but who were you to define the plans of fate?

Therefore, when the door opened and Aemond came across his beautiful wife in exquisite and suggestive clothes, his good eye widened more than usual. He closed the door and remained still, impeccable posture and half-open mouth. Your gaze faltered and faced the floor in the following moments, keeping the room silent for long seconds until the courage inflated your lungs and a request for low approach escaped from your lips.

"Can you come here, husband?" You looked at him again, anxious, watching him approach cautiously until he shortened the distance between your bodies. “I want you tonight... if you want me...”

An intense look and a stronger pull of air were the prince's physical response, remaining almost static in front of him. Would it be reluctance or surprise? You didn't want to be pessimistic.

In fact, for a moment Aemond forgot how to pronounce any kind of words and form sentences, totally surprised by your newly discovered boldness. It was a fact that the least developed pillar of your union was the moment of bed, but he thought that time and reading on the subject would enrich the occasion. But not that way, not with his little lady wife looking so tempting in her soft clothes.

The prince was oblivious to what he considered depravity. His only experience with a lady wasn’t planned and appreciated by him and the option to protect himself for his future lady wife was chosen. Unfortunately, the negative side of keeping inequity out of his life was to arrive at the moment of bed without knowing how to give pleasure to his lady correctly. He hated to see the discomfort stamped on your beautiful face every time he pushed his member on your walls, especially in the first copulation. But here he was and there you were willingly giving yourself.

Your steps were smooth and decided in his direction — although there was fear of being renegade — stopping when your hands landed on the chest covered by the black layers of his tunic. "If you don't want to, I'll understand," no, you wouldn't, you would freak out, but it was your duty as a lady and wife to comply with your husband.

Meanwhile, breathing seemed more difficult every second when he noticed the intensity in the way you watched him, a warm and lustful intensity that no other lady ever directed him. He was being cooked inside his own clothes in an almost maddening fire.

"I want this, lady wife," his voice was a few octaves more serious than usual, his good eye so attentive to your gaze that it seemed to pierce your soul.

Only that confirmation made nectar leak from your flower in anticipation. You didn't want to waste any more time, leaning against him, one hand remained on his chest while the other went up the uninjured side of his face, not wanting him to feel cornered.

“May I kiss you, husband?” You asked in a lascivious voice.

“Yes,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding the left side of your face.

The meeting between your lips was calm (inicially), firm and intimate. There was no previous shyness whenever a kiss happened, no, it was incisive, dominant and became increasingly ravishing and warm. There was urgency in the physical search for each other, making the kiss last longer than any other ever exchanged. It was everything you ever wanted it to be, as natural and ardent as a real dream. But it wasn't enough to satisfy your desire for him.

Moving away from your husband's silky and pink lips, you were quick to announce your next wish: "take off my dress, please, I want to do it the right way today."

The usual blue iris was nothing but a memory dominated by the darkness of his pupil. Aemond's large hands landed on your shoulders to slide both straps of the dress to the sides, removing the fabric accumulated at your waist to the floor, exposing your body in full vision to him.

You were burning, longing so eagerly to be touched that you didn’t want to wait for the prince's excessive chivalry and anticipated unbuttoning his tunic without noticing the approach of his hands on your breasts, making you sigh pleasantly in the massage received. It took a lot of effort to keep undressing your husband and not succumbing to his touch on your soft flesh, almost tearing off the piece and throwing it on the floor.

It was not appropriate for a lady to be desperate for such an activity, so even though you wanted to give the same fate to the pants that hid the modesty of your husband, you restrained yourself by analyzing and strumming his delicious abdomen and chest, touching his sculpted shoulders and long arms. His appearence was ridiculously ethereal and perfect.

“Take me Aemond, I need you,” you begged before capturing his lips again, moaning softly when he growled at your mouth and squeezed your ass with one hand and held the part of your head with another, feeling a growing hardness pressing against his stomach.

“I need to prepare you first, my lady,” he whispered hoarsely, now holding on both sides of your hips and looking away shamelessly to your femininity.

Maybe if it weren't for your rush you would have enjoyed a different pleasure that night, with your husband's lips pressed on their petals, but you still didn't know that. However, what he referred to earlier was already understandable to a lady like you.

"No need, I'm ready," you took his hand and guided him to feel your sticky folds, rubbing your juices gently on his thin fingers. After that you didn't spare time to get on the bed and wait for him, who was very quick to discard his shoes and pants to reach you with ferocity. Gods, what was your misdemeaning behavior doing to him?

The prince breathed heavily as he reached your body only to be rotated on the bed so that you would assume him as a mount. “I would like to try otherwise,” you said it with even heavier eyes, putting your hands on his chest to settle above his groin, his virile and thick masculinity rubbing against your mound, making both moan and hands fly at your waist when you rubbed your folds on him.

You have never seemed more tempting than now, with your beautiful body to total contemplation and disposition and so needed by the union of a man and a woman. It was said by Grand Maester Orwyle that ladies usually behave differently after moon blood and can become demanding about their husbands. Aemond properly interpreted the connotation used by the older man, but did not imagine that it would be such a drastic and needy requirement.

And then, deciding to end your suffering, you sat on the bulbous and reddish tip of your prince's sword, ignoring the initial pain and closing your eyes as you felt him stretch your walls so well in an overwhelming and indescribable feeling. "Oh, Aemond!" A breathless moan escaped when it reached his groin after long seconds. The extraordinary pain recurrent at other times was nothing more than an old ghost when you slid easily on its axis, moving up and down in an experimental and tasty constancy.

Aemond tried to keep his usual stoic feature but it was absolutely difficult when your velvety walls made him feel so good. With his mouth ajar and a heavy look, Aemond squeezed his waist in his clamor for him, taking a deep breath with the sloppy and needy rhythm that you established next.

You didn't know if you were doing it the right way, but you really appreciated the feeling of his thick and soft sword brushing against delicious places in your soft flower. It was good enough to make you moan continuously and scratch the milky skin on his chest.

Hoarse and strangled sounds were released by him during the shock of your hips, closing the good eye to focus on not ending early. He was still stunned by the walk of things since his arrival at the shared cameras — positively stunned. He never imagined that fornication could be so delicious for both of you.

Your eyes opened when your body signaled fatigue from the exercise in question, causing you to reduce your jumps and lean against his abs, almost lying on Aemond when purring so that he would take a position above you. You are not sure if it was the fluidity of the movement or the pressure on your thighs that persuaded your senses to the speed with which he took control and stayed on top, face closer to yours than before, almost making your lips brush. Before he could think about moving away, your arms wrapped around his neck and maintained the proximity between your faces. You wanted to kiss him, or rather, you wanted him to kiss you passionately.

“Kiss me, my dragon.”

The restraint that imprisoned Aemond's wild nature broke with the nickname he received and made him capture your lips in a dominant and fierce kiss, the kiss you've wanted so much since you woke up that day. His hips began to move against yours in a much more fluid way than the other times, fucking you with deliciously intense impulses, without roughness or softness.

He started another wet and sloppy kiss, sucking your lips before sinking his face into your neck and growling against his skin, then planting kisses. “Are you enjoying it, my lady?”

“Y-yes, my prince, yes, go faster!” You moaned and supported your legs on his waist, letting out an almost small scream when the speed of your impulses increased, numbing your senses. The nervousness of bringing pleasure to his wife was dissipated when all he could feel was the constant friction and the way you squeezed him so well.

Flying in wet and pleasurable clouds, you gently held the back of his neck and sneaked to smell his soft and well-groomed silver hair, purring with the addictive and extremely refreshing musk. His heart warmed timidly with your intimate gesture, caving your beautiful face with one hand and touching his foreheads to make love to you in such a unique and vehement way that it made your toes curl and a feeling bloom inside, developing with each push of his hips.

"Beautiful," he uttered contemplating his face kneaded with pleasure, "you're fucking beautiful, my lady wife."

“Really?” You knew it was, but you wanted him to affirm it from his own belief.

“Yes, a lot,” He was fucking lucky to have you. He should say that.

The tingling inside increased with his confession, building something you hadn't felt yet. Was it your dreamed apex germinating? The feeling that your friends elected as the best of all Westeros? He captured your mouth again in a firm but sloppy kiss at the same time, swallowing your lascivious moans and whining intensifies with each roll of hips.

His pleasure also became difficult to ignore, although he was proud that the act was being more profitable and lasting than the other times. Profitable? No, I was delusional.

The connection between you became steamy every second, causing your future supplication: "continue husband, please don't stop."

There was a certain affected region that made your fingers squirm and gasps of pleasure fill your chambers (and maybe even out of them). The recurrence with which Aemond brushed against that point amplified your pleasure and anticipated the hot euphoria that took over your body, making your sight clear and legs cage him when your high came devastatingly good and strong, causing tremor in your limbs and an absolute squeeze in your cunt around his masculinity.

It was the best thing that has ever hit your body in fact, and that caused the release of his seed on your core in erratic movements and an erotic grunt. The nature of the sensation seemed primitive, it was primitive, as a need that needed to be satiated more often. Your bodies were sweaty when he fell to your side with his eyes closed from recent pleasure, bubbling in deep flames like the Old Valyria.

A more than satisfied smile adorned your face with how indescribably good you felt. Not only physically, but your husband's performance softened part of your fear, only one part, the other unfortunately ascended in equity and sowed doubts in your heart. What if the sweetness in his words was only in the heat of the moment? What if he doesn't think you're pretty?

After a moment of comfortable silence you decided to risk it in a low, almost weak voice "... did you really mean those things? About my beauty?" Gods, you didn't want to look pathetic.

And he didn't want to be an absent husband. "Yes," he confessed in a hoarse and soporific voice, almost ashamed of his attitude. "I'm sorry I don't say that as often as you deserve to hear. You're breathtaking, ma'am." His good eye filtered all the reactions from your face carefully. “I'm very lucky to have you by my side.

And nothing was more radiant than your smile when he heard such loving and beautiful statements, daring to snuggle against his chest even though he had a thin layer of sweat. "Your words are nothing more than kind, my prince, I am very grateful to hear them," you began, "you are also a very handsome man," you smoothed the bruised side of his face with the palm of your hand, not getting close to the scar to scare him. "Almost ethereal if I may say," your face was close to his, looking tenderly before leaning against his lips in a chaste and soft kiss.

Compliments directed at appearance were never true to Aemond. Not that he received them too much after the incident, but all the rare times were false, regrettable and uncomfortable. His abilities made him a man safe enough not to care mostly about his deformity, however, in his interior of steel and fire there was a fraction that longed for genuine kindness.

"You are very kind, my lady," he said softly, his voice almost breaking, "did you like what happened?" The thought was almost all verbalized at once, taking not only you but also him by surprise.

“A lot. I liked it a lot, Aemond," you purred against him, feeling your interior warm and vibrate again. "If it's not inappropriate, I wish we could do it again."

That would be a long night...

═════════════════════

taglists:

general: @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess

aemond: @aemondsblog

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x reader #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eyed #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x wife!reader #aemond x wife reader #wife reader #smut

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cottonlemonade · 7 months

Text

Getting Heavy

word count: 519 || avg. reading time: 2 mins.

pairing: not quite post-time skip Bokuto x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, friends with romantic tension, a minuscule amount of suggestiveness

warnings: none

synopsis: Bokuto drops by after practice for dinner and y’all are having a moment™

Knowing by now how hungry Bokuto was after practice you got started on a meat and potato stew, which was almost done by the time he arrived, his hair still damp from the shower, the ungodly amounts of gel removed.

He sniffed longingly when he came in, holding up a bag of your favorite snacks in return.

You were very pleased when he took third helpings of the stew.

"We could watch a movie or play a game?", he suggested, an eager bounce in his body when he had finished. It was inhuman how much energy he still had after hour long practices.

You decided on a movie and tried to stay awake but kept dozing off, as it was way past your usual bedtime. Bokuto grinned when your head fell against his shoulder and he scooched lower so it was more comfortable for you. As he was trying to maneuver a blanket close enough to grab and throw over you, you woke up again. He found your sleepy self highly entertaining, the way you suddenly became very cuddly and extra cute and he kept teasing you about how he was just too comfortable not to fall asleep on and how this had been your plan all along to have an excuse to be closer to him. He patted his shoulder again with a self-assured lift of his brow, making you hit him in the face with a pillow.

He ducked away from another attack and grabbed you by the waist, wrestling you down so he was on top of you, thinking out loud how this was also part of your master plan, relishing in the blush creeping into your cheeks. He had thought about a scene like this before - a lot - your soft hips trapped between his muscular thighs, looking up at him, expectantly.

“What are you doing?”, your eyes narrowed in playful suspicion.

You stared at each other for a couple of seconds, waiting for the other to make the next move. His eyes darted to your lips and his smile faltered for a fraction of a second, moving half an inch closer to you. But just as quickly he snapped out of it. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same way about him and just wanted to be friends.

“Getting… heavy…”, Bokuto said, pretending to grow weak, leaning further down in the process.

“Nononono- oof, Bo!”

He had collapsed on top of you, giggling when you tried to lift him off. You gave up and just laid stacked like pancakes on the couch for a few moments, his face pressed into the cushion.

“I’m hungry.”, his muffled voice announced next to your ear.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Well, there wasn’t any rice to the stew.”

“Fsgjksgs I am sorry. How dare I.”

He pushed himself up to look at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Pleeease.”

“Oh for… fine… what do you want?”

And so it came that you and Bokuto were sitting at your kitchen table at half past 1 in the morning, filling dumplings as per his majesty’s request.

#bokuto x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #bokuto fluff #hq bokuto #bokuto x reader #haikyuu bokuto #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu fluff #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader

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lilacxquartz · 5 months

Text

Roommates | One Shot

Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader x Suguru Geto [MMF]

ABOUT: You’re late on rent again and rather than evicting you, your roommates figure out a different way to make you pay.

TAGS/THEMES: Roommates AU, threesomes, dubious consent, one shot smut, doggy style, blowjobs, sexual coercion (to keep the rent free), kissing, 18+.

Final warning for dubcon, the reader is implied into it but the consent isn’t made clear.

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

You were late on rent again.

A couple months ago you had the excuse that you lost your job so you were short on your share, last month you missed it entirely.

This month you still didn’t have anything and your bank account was running dry, finding absolutely zero luck on the search—living frugally as a result.

Satoru always collected rent in the middle of the month as he was the one who owned the unit. His friend Suguru, lived in an adjacent room to his while you took the smaller room opposite.

Living with two men had certainly been an experience, but they both for the most part kept to themselves and would never bother you, but then you lost your job and your presence became more of a nuisance than just being someone in the background of their lives.

”Again?” Satoru asked as he maintained a friendly albeit strained smile, his tone not quite a whine but you could tell he wasn’t pleased either.

“I-I’ve been trying, but it’s so difficult to find work right now,” you replied, even though that excuse was starting to get stale; it was the truth, but the truth didn’t fill your pockets and that much was a problem.

His demeanour tightened as he struggled to remain polite; you knew that money wasn’t an issue for him and he could afford the entire place alone if he had to, but at the same time you could see where he was coming from.

He wasn’t usually so serious, but he did what he had to do when he needed to. The Satoru you would usually see, so carefree and vibrant, stifled down due to your own misfortune.

Suguru in the midst of this ate breakfast in utter silence as he watched the entire thing unfold from the kitchen table. You would meet his gaze every now and then by accident as he would then try to avoid you, staying quiet as he tried to eat through his good friend doing his best not to scold you.

You mustered up the courage and swallowed away the last of your dignity once more, surrendering to asking for one final chance.

“I know that it’s a lot to ask, but can you please… please give me just a little bit more time?”

His icy blue eyes flashed over your body for a moment, his body language thawing as a new idea came to mind. Instead of going back on forth with you on the topic, he took a deep breath and removed himself from your company momentarily.

His smile grew curt, laced with unreadable intent, “One moment.”

You sat yourself down on the arm rest of the sofa, watching as Satoru went off to whisper something off to Suguru. You considered genuinely just moving back home rather than bothering him further, the other prospect of couch surfing seeming daunting.

Every now and then you’d glance back to the kitchenette from the open plan area, watching as Satoru planned something with Suguru. Their expressions were a little too casual for it to have been something serious and your stomach coiled at the possibility of mockery.

Suguru seemed hesitant about something as his dark eyes landed on you every now and then, his gaze meeting with yours and then disconnecting. Satoru continued to dispense his trademark smile, eyeing you up and down from head to toe, settling on some type of resolution.

The two men then approached you, planting an an uncertain sort of feeling in your gut—your instinct begging for you to choose flight as they both closed in.

“It’s your lucky day,” Satoru announced, his voice suddenly playful and teasing, “rent’s on the house.”

There was definitely a catch.

You stood up and took a step back, “Why…?”

He took a step forward, following you in your tracks as he cornered you.

“You’re gonna do something for us, that’s why,” he added, his words doing nothing to settle your quickly building unease.

“Do what?” you dared to ask.

“You’re a smart girl, [name],” Satoru purred, “you can figure it out, can’t you?”

You weren’t an idiot; you could put two and two together to understand exactly what it was that he was implying—rent was on the house and you weren’t a total prude, understanding that he wanted you to pay your dues with a favour instead.

You just didn’t think it would ever come to something like this. How humiliating, almost.

It was the fact that Suguru seemed to be involved too that further worsened your feelings on the issue. You were already barely into the idea of trading sex for a place to stay, but you now had the influence of two slowly approaching guys who had a different sort of idea of what to do with you.

As you pondered all of the possibilities, you found yourself so distracted that you didn’t even have time to react properly—wait.

Satoru already gave into his building curiousity with you; his wandering fingers pinched at the hem of your top, rolling up the fabric to reveal your bare stomach—your arms protested by anchoring down, but his strength relented and he pulled it off of you completely.

His cruising pursuit moved towards your shorts next, revealing the finishing piece for your bra’s matching set—how cruel it was of such fate to align on a day when you’d be wearing such a thing; both of their eyes shining with a delighted glint.

You blushed as you scrambled to cover up, your cheeks burning cherry red as your temperature turned feverish from the events that quickly unfolded.

“You look so cute when you’re all embarrassed like that,” Satoru commented as he flashed you a cheeky grin, his frosted lashes fluttering as he continued to stare at your now exposed skin.

He slipped right behind you, pulling you into his chest—his arms wrapped around your stomach, his cock pitching against his trousers, feeling his hardness pressing against your back; he wanted you so much, so soon. His lips sank as he nibbled against your neck, leaving behind rosy love bites from suckled flesh.

“Can you feel how hard you’re making me, [name]?” Satoru asked as he continued to grind—you didn’t dare reply, your voice caught in the back of your throat whenever you’d try.

Suguru moved closer at this point too, finally giving into his own thoughts within the company of your exposed form. His dark eyes brightened as he glossed his gaze over your frame, reeling his focus back onto your chest—curious hands unable to resist a feel for a second longer.

His fingertips would then trace towards your upper body, finally parking at your jaw as his fingers settled on a pinch against your chin; he wanted to keep your sights pointed towards him and him alone.

Suguru then lowered his lips to meet with yours, his tongue slowly pushing into your mouth as the wet fleshy muscle wrestled with your own to keep you subdued, pulling strands of webbing saliva back as he disconnected the kiss, just as though to take in his sight of you before going any further.

He took a step forward with intentional purpose and drive, you stepped back as he herded you, finding yourself perfectly sandwiched in between both Satoru and Suguru with absolutely zero wiggle room to spare.

It was then that Satoru once again didn’t give you any room to think as his hands brushed around your waist; greedy hands palmed around your hips before retreating to to the base of your shoulders, pushing you down to assume an entirely different position as your body listened.

Before you even had a chance to react even further, you were on your hands and knees before them both. Your knobbly joints tanking the pressure from the wooden floor, a sensation slightly painful as it rubbed you raw.

Through it, you felt some type of deeply rooted shame as you didn’t even protest, instead accepting the pursuit—you liked this, not quite knowing nor understanding why; feeling so wanted, so desired by both of them at the same time.

Satoru’s trousers fell to his knees as he too surrendered to the floor, his sweatpants gathering by your legs as moved closer in. You felt the tip of his length tease you as he prodded against your opening before sliding into you with such welcomed ease; your pussy already soaked and taking him in without a single hint of a struggle.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you, [name]?” Satoru couldn’t help but tease, “—you’re so wet for me already~!”

Your breath hitched as you once again couldn’t reply, instead eliciting a rushed gasp as he rammed the rest of his cock into your gushing heat, filling the otherwise silent room with the sounds of smacking pleasure as his rhythm quickly surrendered to something hurried, rather than taking the time to savour you.

Suguru was next; his face continuing to focus on yours as he looked down, towering himself above you. He slowly lowered himself to his knees too, succumbing to a certain type of idea that he had in mind.

“Your eyes are so pretty,” he spoke, tweezing his fingertips to turn your chin to face him once again, “can you keep looking at me?”

You obeyed as you felt pulled in by his voice, focusing your sights on his eyes as his own hands trailed elsewhere, eager to give you a taste of himself.

Suguru aligned himself with your lips, teasing his tip as he slowly pushed himself in and filled out the rest of your mouth—you took him in so well as he continued to pack his meat inside.

He moved himself further in as he bucked at your skull with his length, delighted by the noises you made as you struggled to take him in. He relented regardless as searched for your throat, his hands weaving through your hair, brushing away stray strands to keep looking at your pretty face.

Satoru at the same time continued to pound into your pussy from behind, his hips slamming against your ass, fingernails sinking into your bruised flesh. Your ass rippled as his pursuit continued, palms hitting your cheeks causing your eyes to water while you gagged on Suguru in the meanwhile.

Struggling to maintain your balance, Suguru lifted you by your arms to keep you right where he wanted you; continuing to slide his meat into your throat, finding an almost sadistic joy in how you reacted.

High pitched whines and breathy moans harmonising with their own grunting pleasure.

His demanding gaze narrowed, his lips trembling as he succumbed to a desperate chant, “eyes on me, eyes on me—“

Satoru seemed to be close to the edge of climax as his thrusting reached relentless pace, his grip against your once blank flesh now canvassed blotched watercolour markings all around your thighs, leaving behind signatures of bloodied etching from such passionate consequence.

He groaned as he half moaned your name; his hold tightening as your own cries meshed with both pleasure and pain—he drilled into you with such anticipated drive before delivering one final pump, milking himself dry into your sopping warmth, before finally pulling out, gasping and entirely spent.

It didn’t take long for Suguru to catch up next as you adhered to his wishes quite well, taking him in like such a good girl—sucking on him as your cheeks clenched, sending him to places he could only dream to go, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat as he continued to fuck your mouth the best that he could.

His release was sudden, emptying thick loads of a hot mess that pooled in your mouth, trailing against your chin as he finally pulled out—his eyes laced with utter affection.

You succumbed to the floor as Satoru pulled you closer, eager to help you recover, Suguru sat close by as he too, surrendered to creeping exhaustion.

Neither one of them could let you go, at least not yet.

“Now, wasn’t that fun, [name]?” Satoru asked as he brushed his hands along your legs, feeling tempted by a second round. “Maybe you should skip next month’s rent too?”

You didn’t reply yet again, but both your expression and flushed complexion along with your relaxed form all pointed to a definite yes—the feeling so wrong, so right, something you wouldn’t quite mind to revisit again and again.

“You should,” Suguru encouraged as he moved closer next to you, “I’d love to see more of those pretty eyes.”

As you settled into an exhausted stupor, wedged between them both, you couldn’t deny that you loved that idea.

So maybe, you shouldn’t rush in finding a job after all.

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deja-yu · 1 year

Text

Am I your favourite? Pt 2 - Choi San

Genre: angst/fluff

Part 1

Warning: a lil angsty as San does not remember last night. Jealous San and instigator Yunho.

Note: I rewrote this a couple of times, I didn't expect part 1 to get so much love. I felt like I had to deliver something good and I got stressed about it lmao. I hope it will suffice <3

After the commotion the boys settled again and the teasing also died down fairly quick, you blame the alcohol in everyone's system. San was seemingly unfazed and had continued to peacefully nap on your thighs.

You were staying the weekend in a rented house with the others. And eventually the night became too dark and collectively you decided to call it quits.

You could feel eyes on you as you tried to wake San. Some gentle rocking and calling of his name did the trick. As soon his eyes opened they meet yours, a smile immediately found its place on his face. "Go to bed Sannie" you whisper softly which causes the smile to turn into a pout, "but I am comfy" he mumbles making you roll your eyes. "I want to go to bed San, please" he reluctantly gets up from your lap. San sees everyone looking at you two before they suddenly try to look occupied with other things. He gives you a questioning look but you just laugh and shrug.

Seemingly still drunk San stumbles when he gets up, you get up to help him but your legs also protest. Having fallen asleep as a result of San lying on them for over an hour. Yunho is quick to steady you and surprise you with his sudden appearance. "You still want to share a room with me?" he asks in a teasing tone. Which doesn't get missed by you but for San the teasing went right past him and jealousy once again blossomed in his chest. "Noo.. I wanne cuddle y/n" "ohhh since you're a favourite you think you can just steal her away from me?" Yunho quips back at San. Slowly blinking the latter seems confused "I am you favourite?" He questions with a blush. "You don't remember?" he tilts his head in question and shakes his head no.

A little pang of hurt shoots through your heart. Maybe you took his confession a little too serious, he was drunk after all. But you can't help feeling hurt about how he doesn't remember. It was just a peck but you've been crushing on San for a while. Probably since Yunho introduced you to his friends.

You turn to Yunho wanting nothing more than to leave the situation. You watch Yunho's eyes flicker to you with surprise at San’s statement, concern flashes before he looks back at the reason for your hurt. "Sober up and try to remember" is all he says before taking your hand and tugging you along. You can hear Wooyoung calling San a dumbass to which he just sounds even more confused but the argument quickly moves out of earshot and you don't look back.

There were two single beds in the room you and Yunho share. Which meant you could sleep separately without an issue. Because sharing a single bed with Yunho hasn't been a thing since his growth spurt. After which the two of you couldn't comfortably sleep in his lightning mcqueen bed anymore. Yunho refuses to sleep without talking first, struggling to keep his eyes open as he looks at you from the other bed. It has been quiet for a while. "He was just clingy drunk" you mumble softly after his eyes were closed for a while, half expecting him to already be asleep. But his chest rumbles before he answers "Still.. I get that you're hurt. But he probably wouldn't have done it if he didn't like you" you snort "probably" Yunho sighs at your sarcasm "You know what I mean. Like drunk words are sober thoughts or something?" humming as a response you wonder how you will face San tomorrow. Maybe you could get out the house before breakfast and just go home early. But you doubt that would go unnoticed. Seonghwa might call 911 for possible abduction.

It's a comfortable silence between you and Yunho. His presence helps calm you down enough for the tiredness to creep back into your body. Soon you hear little snores coming from his bed, indicating he was off to dreamland. You got up and turned off the lights before getting back in bed.

Sunlight peeking through the curtains wakes you, Yunho is still sleeping peacefully in the other bed. The grumble of your stomach is enough for you get up and go to the kitchen. You find Seonghwa on one of the bar stools, his face lightens up at your arrival. "Did you sleep well?" shrugging you complain you're still tired which makes him chuckle. "Me too. I wasn't too sure if I should make breakfast already since nobody else was up" he says as you open the fridge. "Well, some did look pretty messed up last night so you might be waiting a long time. We can make pancakes and the rest can use the batter to make their own if they don’t show up in the meantime?" easily agreeing to your plan, Seonghwa gets up to help you in the kitchen.

Not long after you both turn your head to the sound of footsteps. San is standing at the bar, face puffy with sleep and a content smile on his face, growing in size when he spots you. Heat rushes to your cheeks making you quickly turn back to the stove. He greets both of you and he can barely hear the mumble of a reply you let out. He blames your coldness on your possible hangover. He sits at the bar and questions what you two are making, "Pancakes" you murmur trying to grasp together strands of courage. If he didn't remember, was it fair to make a big deal out of it? Should you pretend it didn't happen so it doesn't become awkward? In your worries you didn't hear the other boys arriving. Most of them crash on the couch but Yunho's eyes go from your slumped shoulder to San. Nobody sees the mischievous spark ignite in his eyes. San is a Jealous man, everyone knows that.

Yunho walks over and wraps an arm around you, head coming to rest on your shoulder. Stiffening under the touch you only relax when the sound of Yunho's voice informs you it is him. "Ohhh pancakes?"

Seonghwa turns around to prepare plates on the bar which means he is the only one who can see San. Jaw clenching in clear annoyance at the interaction between you and the taller man. Giggles coming from you as said man steals a pancake from the stack you were making. Yunho is getting the rise out of San he wanted. "Get a room" San mumbles quietly, but Yunho hears. Of course he did, he was waiting for it. Letting go of you to turn to the accuser with a challenging grin. San opens his mouth but words don't come out, unsure of what to say he instead looks away in annoyance.

Once everyone has their plate, the ones whose head is still pounding took their plate back to their rooms. It leaves you, Seonghwa, Yunho, San, and now also Mingi scattered around the kitchen. San still sitting at the bar with Mingi next to him. Hwa was shifting uncomfortably at the tension between San and Yunho on the far side of the kitchen. And Yunho was standing right next to you, continuing to hog your attention. “Why are you looking so angry” Mingi asks, a little clueless to the situation. But when his eyes follow San’s stare he snorts. “Why are you jealous, didn’t you guys establish your relationship last nigh?” Suddenly all eyes are on Mingi who raises his eyebrows in innocence. Hwa is trying to signal him to shut up, your face is getting hotter by the minute, and Yunho is just grinning. San is the first to speak “What do you mean?” it has a sharpness to it, sounding more of a demand. “We… well… ju.. just like you made a big deal of those two last night…” His eyes shift from San to Yunho’s and he hesitates for a moment. “And?” San prods. “You!! You kissed them last night” Mingi says in defence, feeling San’s bad mood hang heavy in the air. Seongwha sighs heavily which makes Mingi continue to ramble on as a means to defend himself. Yunho laughs and tries to get him to stop talking but for you and San it’s like the world stops, his eyes found yours after Mingi spilled about the kiss. “I kissed you?” he questions you, and it was barely a whisper, but you’re so zoned in on each other that you hear and nod. In response San shoots up from his chair, face reddening, mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the words. His abrupt movement made the other 3 shift focus back on San. “Let’s leave you guys to have a talk” Seongwha says and Yunho agrees who in turn drags along a complaining and still hungry Mingi.

You shuffle uncomfortably under San’s gaze. “I…I am sorry?” he ends up saying, as he steps closer before taking a step back again. San always has this aura of confidence around him, at times the kind that makes you roll your eyes as he sends a wink your way. Most times though it was more subtle, no matter what room he walked into he looked like he belonged. Now however he looks like a kicked puppy, fidgeting on the spot unsure of what to do or say. “Please… don’t say that” You manage to croak out. “Let’s just move on, you were drunk and it was just a peck” looking up from the floor to him he manages to look even more hurt than before you opened your mouth. “I… don’t. I just…” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes to gather his thoughts. “Even if it was just a peck. I did it without your permission, I am sorry. But… I don’t want to move on like it didn’t happen. Make me remember?” He asks while taking one of your hands in his with some hesitation, but as you don’t pull away from his touch, he grows a bit more confident again. “Tell me” he asks again and your breath hitches as he leans ever so close to your face. You look away from him before replaying the scene from last night. “I let you lay on my lap since you were… pretty out of it. I thought you were already asleep and talked with Yunho when you suddenly popped up right in my face” It’s not much more than a mumble and when San grabs your chin to make you look at him you wish you could sink through the floor and disappear. “You… you asked me if you were my favourite, when I said yes you suddenly kissed me” His eyebrows raise in surprise “Then you unceremoniously passed out again on my lap” you say your heart is attempting to beat out your chest. San eyes crinkle as he smiles, it confuses you causing you to pout. “I remember… Now I have one last question, and this time I will give you time to think before you answer” eye contact so intense you squirm from it. “Am I your favourite?” the hand holding your chin shifts to cup your cheek, and his gaze is full of love. You know he is asking for permission with this question so you respond with a small nod. “Say it baby” he says as he breathes out a chuckle. “Yes, you’re my favourite” and his lips find yours, your eyes flutter shut and butterflies spring to life in your stomach. It’s a contrast to the kiss from last night, it’s not quick and it has a whole other level of tenderness to it. He takes another step closer and you melt into his chest, hand wrapping around his neck as he deepens the kiss with a swipe over your bottom lip with his tongue. His other hand is wrapped around your frame attempting to pull you impossibly closer.

“Oh my god, I think it’s time for you guys to get a room” Yunho says with a laugh. Making you break apart from San to face your friend with red cheeks. But San doesn’t look away from you, his hand brushing over your cheek. “You wanna go out with me” You laugh as he pulls your attention back to him with his words. “Thought that was clear” “mhhmm, I think you need to convince me a little more” He replies cheekily before reconnecting his lips with yours. Easily making you forget about anyone else in the house.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #choi san x reader #san x y/n #san x reader #choi san fluff #san fluff

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starneteyam · 2 years

Text

TEACH ME ★

🖇️ Neteyam x Omaticaya! fem! reader

🖇️ warn. SPICY ASF, tension, no smut

🕯️In which you are Neteyam’s childhood best friend, and because you trust him the most, you ask him to teach you how to kiss

A/N I LOVE TENSION. Ending kind of ass bcs I was gonna write more but it got too long

Neteyam has been by your side ever since you could remember. He was glued to your hip, and you don’t remember a second he wasn’t there when you needed help. When the sky people came and burned down your homes, again, he was suddenly there, forcing you to get up and leave while you wailed out cries in his arms.

He was there to teach you how to hunt, as your father, former Olo’eyktan, was killed in the great battle against the Sky People many years ago. You trusted him with all your heart, and he was there to help you, always.

Which is why you expected his help again, but this time, your request was much more… intimate. You knew he had more experience than you. He had a girlfriend before, for a short while, but he broke up with you for reasons he didn’t tell you.

You didn’t care, his girlfriend was mean, anyways. You sat on a tree next to Neteyam, laughing about things that didn’t matter as you made a beaded necklace.

Your laughter quieted as you bit your lip. You were nervous to ask him, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. You opened your mouth, but the words died on your tongue. Neteyam noticed, and turned to you. “What is wrong?” He asked, hand on your arm.

You laughed nervously, swinging your feet gently. You then turned to him, face suddenly serious that is surprised him. “Neteyam, I must ask you a favor.” You said quietly. The two of you were alone, but still, you were afraid somebody could hear — maybe Eywa.

He furrowed his eyebrows, frowning as he nodded, serious as you. He was concerned. You then became shy, turning your head to the side. “Can you teach me how to… kiss?” He leaned away, eyes wide in surprise.

You looked at him, worried, and opened your mouth to tell him that he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to, but you were cut off by his laugh. “That’s it?” He laughed, relieved. You couldn’t help but smile too after seeing his.

“Yes- Yes, I can teach you. But why do you want to learn?” He asked, eyes avoiding yours as he smiled nervously. You didn’t know it because you were a big airhead, but he had the biggest crush on you since forever.

Lo’ak knew it, Kiri knew it—hell, even Tuk knew it. “I am almost of age to be chosen by a man and mate before Eywa. But I have never even held a man’s hand?” You whisper shouted, embarrassed as you buried your face into your hand.

Neteyam sighed, grabbing your hand from your face. He was just glad that it wasn’t because you liked somebody—somebody other than him. “Alright, then. Face towards me.” He instructed you, and you cleared your throat as you looked at him.

“Okay, first thing’s first. Try not to breathe through you nose.” He told you, pointing at his own. You nodded as you straightened you posture. “And, you have to- you kind of- ugh.” He groaned, finding it much harder to explain in words.

“Just copy me.” He said, giving up. His eyes searched your face, his hand sneaking to cup the side of your face. His breath hitched as he looked at you.

You were looking up at him with those doe eyes expectantly, and your face fit perfectly into his palm. “Close your eyes.” He whispered as he leaned in, and you did as told, waiting for anything.

You felt his lips on yours. It was a soft, short kiss. Your lip was between his, and your heart burned at the feeling. He was gentle, treating you as if you were glass. “Tilt your head.” He told you in a hushed tone between his kiss, his words almost slurred as he rushed to kiss you once more.

You tilted your head, and he pushed his lips harder against yours. His hands brushed down your body, before resting on your hips. Your body automatically moved, now on your knees, head tilted downwards as you cupped both sides of his face and pressed your body against his.

You kneeled between his legs, the kisses getting more intense and turning from an innocent kiss to an intense make out. You felt yourself getting lost into your feelings, forgetting why you were kissing him in the first place. He hungrily kissed you, swallowing your hitched breaths as his fingers teased your skin.

As you pushed your weight on him, he almost fell back as he supported himself against the fat branch, snapping out of it as he pulled away, chest heaving. The air filled with sound of your outrun breaths and his.

He let out a laugh. “You don’t need practice at all.” He told you, looking up at you and restraining himself from taking it any further, although he wanted to; he wanted to so bad. You looked down at him with hazed eyes and plump lips that made you so damn attractive, his nails digging into the bark as he stopped himself from smashing his lips on yours once more.

You let out a breathy laugh, happy, though you didn’t know about what. “Neteyam? Where are you?” The two of you heard a groan from under you, and you and Neteyam looked at each other, laughing.

You got off him, turning you back towards Neteyam and looked down at the person calling for him. Neteyam let out a silent breath as you finally looked away, his tail waving wildly as he recalled what just happened, his fingers brushing against his lips. God, you were so perfect.

“Lo‘ak! We are up here! We will be there in a second!” You called down to him, and he waved his arm. You looked back at Neteyam, and he quickly recollected himself and made himself seem nonchalant.

“Come, they are looking for us.” You said to him, before climbing down the tree. You laughed silently to yourself as you climbed down the tree, jumping on the grass. You giggled as you remembered the way he stole your breaths in between kisses, or the way his fingers brushed against the curve of your waist.

Lo’ak looked at you, judging you with his eyes. “Ew, what’s up with you?” To which you rolled your eyes at, purposefully hitting him with your tail. “It is none of your business.” You hissed, crossing your arms as you shuddered, feeling yourself smiling as you thought of Neteyam again. Perhaps, there’s something there that wasn’t there before.

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 8 months

Text

The Other Man

Note: lovely request by a lovely anon! I hope you enjoy this, and thank you for this request, I really enjoyed writing this.

Warnings: 18+! angst, smut, mention of death and arranged marriage.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You fell in love with the warrior who was tasked to protect you and your husband.

wordcount: 7,5k

Masterlist

Your husband was fifteen years older than you, and your marriage had been arranged because your husband possessed quite some land. His status had been good for that of your poor family, and he had treated you kindly too. Despite being treated kindly, there had been little to no romance in your marriage and no pups were ever born. You did not mind the lack of intimacy. What bothered you was that your husband was free to whore around, but god forbid a lady bedded a man that was not her husband.

You had loved your husband at some point, at least you think you did, when he was a bit younger and still participated in battles to protect the Saxon land. But during one of those battles he had gotten injured badly, and had lost one arm and his ability to walk. All he did was lay in bed ever since or sit in a chair and stare at a wall, as he could do little else, and therefore your life also stopped when he became injured. But he was still an important and rich man. And when there was word that his life and yours were threatened by a witch named Skade, so that the Danes could eventually take claim of his wealth, the Lord Uhtred arranged one of his men to protect you and your husband for as long as needed. Your husband would pay the tasked man for his protection, and the warrior would be provided with residence in a cottage on your husband's land.

You watched him from your kitchen, through the open wooden shutters, as he sat outside merely a few paces away from you. Sihtric. That was his name, the name of the warrior who was tasked to protect you and your husband from a possible attack. He sat on a large broken tree log, basking in the early morning sun. It was to be another hot summer day, just like the past few days had been. His bare muscular arms glistened with sweat as his biceps flexed with each stroking movement he made to sharpen his axe. His jaw was clenched and his face serious, eyes fixated on his weapon as he took care of her with care and smooth motions.

You observed him. You had been observing him ever since his arrival a few days ago, but you hadn't exchanged a word, only a glimpse of eye contact when you were introduced after his arrival late in the evening. Sihtric spent most of the day outside in the fields surrounding your husband's home, scouting for enemies, while you were trapped inside to take care of your bitter and grumpy husband when the maid couldn't. But now that your husband was still asleep, because the pain in his body was too much for him to bear today, you could secretly observe Sihtric without being called away for a while.

Sihtric was clearly younger than your husband, closer to your own age, and it was evident that he was a Dane. His sweat coated neck showed a Danish tattoo that ran up the side of his head and he wore a hammer pendant. His dark hair was short and shaved off on both sides, he had a hint of facial hair and when he suddenly looked back over his shoulder and locked eyes with you, after you had dropped a plate because you were too distracted by his physique, you suddenly noticed his eyes were two different colours. Sihtric was unlike any man you had ever seen before. You hadn't seen many men actually, as you married your husband young and didn't get to leave the house much as he swore it was safer for you to stay inside. And like a fool you believed him.

A hint of a smirk appeared on Sihtric's face before he brought his attention back to his weapon again, but seconds later he stopped sharpening the axe head and got up. He wiped his tattooed hands on his leather jerkin and turned to you, then leaned on the window sill with his elbows and looked at you, his playful smirk still gracing his beautiful and slightly scarred face.

'My lady,' he simply said, his voice soft and warm, 'can I help you?'

'No,' you stammered, 'thank you.'

Sihtric chuckled lightly at your flushed face and licked his lips, amused.

'Why are you inside on a day like this?' he asked, 'does your husband not want to enjoy the sun with you?'

'My husband is sleeping.'

'Then do you not want to enjoy the sun? Pick flowers or just go for a walk?'

You looked at the warrior in silence for a few long seconds, then picked up the dropped plate.

'I do,' you confessed with a whisper, 'but…'

'But?' Sihtric asked after a pause.

'My husband...'

'... Is sleeping?'

'Yes.'

'Then why must you stay inside?' he wondered.

'My husband believes it is safer inside for me.'

Sihtric laughed at that, then pushed himself up and grabbed his axe which he swung over his shoulder.

'What's so funny?' you almost snarled, but your eyes betrayed that you weren't truly offended, as you couldn't tear your gaze away from his impressive arms.

'Nothing, my lady,' he composed himself, 'but if you change your mind and want to enjoy the sun…'

He didn't finish his words, but you knew what he meant. You knew you could find him in the fields, scouting, and he wouldn't mind for you to join him. But you were married. To an important man nonetheless, so Sihtric could not try and persuade you directly. But it had only taken him one day to tell that you weren't happily married and he thought you were too beautiful to be with a man like your husband, and it was a shame you rarely appeared outside of your home. And Sihtric also knew you had been watching him, which amused him greatly, but had to be careful with his approach. Sihtric was paid royally by your husband for his protection and he did not want to let Uhtred down by getting sent away from the job, because he had been pursuing the wife of a nobleman.

A few days passed and your husband's condition didn't improve. The warm summer caused him to feel unwell and dizzy. He had no appetite and barely consumed any water. The heat made his old wounds ooze pus and smell foul, for they never successfully healed and often became infected. And it was your duty to take care of him while the maid looked after the house and made food. But now that his condition became worse you had to fetch a healer, who arrived the same afternoon. Her name was Eadith, she was very friendly, wise and above all incredibly beautiful. And your husband seemed to feel better too at the sight of Eadith alone already, for he suddenly drank water and allowed her to feed him fresh fruits from the garden. If you were in love with him you would have been jealous, but it only made you reconsider Sihtric's offer from a few days ago to join him scouting the lands.

You were sick of always being a good and loyal wife, while your husband's eyes and hands had always wandered to other ladies. It is not that he thought you weren't beautiful, but due to the lack of intimacy he just had no interest in you anymore, and after his injury you were merely his caregiver. You had warned Eadith immediately after you saw his interest in her, but she reassured you that she had no desire to bed an older and sick man, but she would look after him which also meant you could finally take a break.

And so you decided to go outside and find Sihtric. You were dressed in a yellow linen dress, which was simple but pretty, as it hugged your shape and showed your figure in all the right places but also swayed in the summer breeze. You did not want to make it obvious that you were looking for the Dane, so you carried a twig woven basket and strolled to collect apples. That way you could scan the surrounding area without it being suspicious, as you only really left the house to gather fruits and herbs that grew in the garden.

You soon felt droplets of sweat on your back as the sun was at its peak, and the blush on your face grew warmer when your eyes landed on Sihtric in the distance, who was naked after he had taken a refreshing swim in the river that crossed your lands. The basket with apples fell out of your hands, which drew Sihtric's attention, and you quickly averted your eyes after you had already caught a glimpse of his entire body. And an impressive body it was, even from afar. You squeezed your thighs together as you sat down, your heart pounding wildly in your chest while you gathered the fallen apples back into the basket. Your mind wandered while your hands searched the tall grass for the round fruits, and you couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have Sihtric's arms around you. Those strong arms, much stronger than your husband's arms ever had been. And you craved to know what Sihtric would taste like when he kissed you, and how his hands felt on your bare skin, and how it would feel to rake your fingers through his short hair as you felt him inside you. You were so caught up in your sudden erotic fantasy that you didn't notice Sihtric had walked up to you, and he startled you when he suddenly cleared his throat behind you.

'Goodness!' you gasped and jumped up.

'Apologies, my lady,' Sihtric said with a sly smile, and he held an apple out to you, 'I did not mean to scare you, but I believe you dropped this.'

You opened your mouth to speak, but you were immediately distracted at the sight of his naked torso as he was only wearing his breeches. You snatched the apple out of his big hand, the same hand you had just imagined wrapped around your throat as he had pushed you down in the field to kiss you lustfully. And while you tried to shake that thought and put the apple back in your basket, your eyes darted over the numerous scars on his still wet and muscular body, and then your lust took over.

You dropped the basket and grabbed his face, pulling his lips onto yours, and you kissed him with a fiery passion you never felt before. You placed one hand on his neck and the other moved through his short hair while his damp hands grabbed your waist firmly. Sihtric pulled you flush against his wet body, hiked your skirt partly up and then lifted your knee to hook it around his bare waist. You wrapped both arms around his neck and he smoothly laid you down in the tall grass. His lips trailed down your neck and to your shoulders, leaving wet kisses and love bites, and he shoved his fingers underneath the shoulder straps of your linen dress. He lowered the top hastily but with care, and soon you felt his warm lips trail down further to your breasts and he teased your nipple with his tongue and teeth while he pinched your other nipple with his fingers. You moaned at his touch and the overall sensations, and you pulled his face back up to yours, desperate to disappear into his kiss while you removed his breeches, and he pushed the skirt of your dress up to gain access to your cunt. Sihtric kissed you roughly, as if he tried to still a hunger that could not be satisfied until he had devoured you completely. Your ragged breaths felt warm on each other's faces while he began to tease you, grinding the tip of his hard cock against your wet folds. You were desperate and ready for him.

You were desperate to feel his entire length inside you, stretching you and filling you up completely, and you wanted to be ravaged by him. You wanted him to do with you as he pleased and to use you up until you were exhausted and sore and begging for him to stop as tears ran down your face, because the pleasantness would be too much to handle for you. You wanted him to cum over and over again inside you while your legs were shaking underneath him, just so you could finally experience what it would be like to leave a man satisfied after he had been with you.

But then you heard him call your name and suddenly you snapped out of your fantasy.

'Are you okay, my lady?' Sihtric frowned as he still held his hand out to you, holding the apple he had picked up.

'I, yes, fine,' you rasped and took the apple out of his hand, 'thank you.'

You gave the Dane a curt smile and turned on your heels. Sihtric watched you walk back to the house, and he once again thought it was a real shame how someone with such beauty as yours was kept hidden inside.

You sat across from Sihtric at the dinner table that evening. It was not common for the warrior to dine with you, but as Eadith was invited by your husband, you insisted for Sihtric to be there too, for it would be unfair to neglect the man who protected your lives. Dinner had been served by the maid and you tried to enjoy the food as much as you could, but the atmosphere was tense and awkward. You sat next to your sickly husband while Eadith, who was staying several days longer to take care of him, sat next to Sihtric. Everyone ate quietly while occasionally glancing at one another. Your husband's eyes were mainly fixated on his healer, while you tried your hardest to not gaze at Sihtric the entire time you looked up from your plate. And yet each time you did look up at the Dane, who you had fantasised about earlier that day and had seen completely naked from a distance, you found his eyes were already fixated on you. And his eyes seemed darker than usual.

While you had dessert your husband tried to make some small talk with Eadith. Everyone saw right through him and knew he was trying to see if she was interested. And Eadith, the saint, played along to not make it more awkward than it already was. As she engaged in conversation with your husband, you and Sihtric kept glancing at each other and soon you felt his leather boot lightly tap your ankle under the table. Sihtric smiled faintly, barely noticeable, but you could tell the mischief in his eyes when you looked into them. You shifted in your chair, desperate to feel some friction between your legs, but nothing could give you a relief of the feeling Sihtric gave you, unless he shoved his hand between your thighs and inside you.

'I shall take the Lord to his room and clean his wounds,' Eadith announced after dinner.

You agreed and, once they had left the room, you helped the maid gather the dishes and cups from the table and brought them to the kitchen, where the maid would clean them. Sihtric helped you clear the table, handing you the used cutlery, and his fingers lightly caressed yours each time he handed you something. And he loved how you would try and hide your hungry eyes for him each time he touched you. You walked Sihtric to the front door afterwards, as he would need to scout the land once again before he could retreat to his cottage for the night, and you thanked him for watching over you and your husband as you hadn't thanked him before.

'Just my duty,' he smiled and leaned against the doorpost.

Sihtric then suddenly leaned in and brought his hand up to your neck. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt his warm hand on your skin, slowly moving up as he brought his face closer to yours. He took your chin gently and brushed his thumb over your lips, tracing in circles as he stared down into your eyes. He towered over you and smiled softly, his eyes were hooded and he then slowly wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue as he looked you up and down.

'You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,' he whispered, 'it is a shame your husband keeps you inside. But,' he paused and chuckled, 'I understand it too.'

'How so?' you breathed, his voice causing a pool of heat to rise in your core.

'Because you have no idea how I wish to hump you, my lady,' Sihtric whispered, 'and I too would not want any other man to talk to my wife if I was married to you.'

'Would you also hide me?'

'No,' he smiled, 'no, the opposite,' he cupped your cheek and brought his face even closer to yours, his lips grazed yours when he spoke again, 'I would show you off. I would let everyone know that you're mine.'

You were both silent. In the distance some crickets sung their song while the moon lit up the fields around the house, and the candles inside illuminated your faces as you gazed at each other.

'I know you saw me earlier,' he continued, 'at the river.'

'I… I don't know what you're talking about,' you lied.

Sihtric chuckled and hummed softly, the sound made your knees tremble and caused you to feel lightheaded. You both anticipated each other's next move as no one spoke anymore, and then you both gave in at the same time. Without any hesitation your lips crashed together in a heated kiss. And this time you weren't just fantasising, you knew it was real because you could actually taste the ale on his lips that had been served during dinner. And you finally felt his hair as you raked your hands through it, it was soft and just long enough to grab onto. You felt the silver beads which were braided into his locks on both sides, and the parts that were shaved were pleasantly soft as his hair had begun to grow back slightly.

Sihtric deepened the kiss and picked you up in his arms, and he was as strong as you had imagined. He effortlessly held you as your legs were around his waist, and he carried you over to an oaken cabinet that stood in the hallway. He sat you on top of the cabinet, his lips still locked with yours and his tongue still in your mouth, and he cupped your cheeks firmly while he grinded his hips against yours. Your skirt was hiked up and his arousal pressed against your clit through his breeches, and you moaned into his mouth at the feeling. You both breathed hard and fast, equally desperately trying to stay quiet and to keep self control, knowing that your husband was only a few rooms away. You tugged at his leather armour, wanting to keep him as close as possible while he pulled at the laces of your dark blue dress. You wanted nothing more than to pull down his breeches and free his cock, take him in your mouth before you'd let him rut into you like a beast, but then you broke the kiss, and it took all your strength.

'I… I'm sorry,' you panted, 'I'm sorry,' you said again and gave him a slight push away from you. You got off the cabinet and strengthened your dress, then wiped your mouth, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. 'I'm married,' you almost whispered, 'I'm sorry, but I can't… I shouldn't… it's wrong.'

Sihtric listened as you rambled on and he tried to regain his composure. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat as he adjusted his armour, and then looked back at you again.

'I understand,' he said politely, 'I apologise if my behaviour was out of line. I did not mean to disrespect you or your husband. I am sorry, my lady.'

You silently stared into each other's eyes again for long, long seconds. The air was thick and it seemed as if the crickets outside had gone quiet in anticipation.

'You did not disrespect me,' you reassured him.

Sihtric gave you a curt nod in acceptance, then said, 'I should go, my lady, scout the lands once more before I shall retreat to my bed. I wish you a good night.'

'Wait,' you said as he turned on his heels, and you took his hand.

Sihtric turned back to face you as you held his hand, and you then pulled him back in. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him. You kissed him as if it was the last thing you'd ever do, and he did not hesitate to kiss you back. And he kissed you passionately and deep. He kissed you in a way your husband had never done. He kissed you in a way that told you he desired you, all of you. And then it was him who broke the kiss, as he knew he would not be able to stop himself once more if he continued now.

'In another life,' you whispered against his lips as you lightly traced the scar on his cheek with your thumb, 'in an unmarried life, I would be entirely yours, Sihtric.'

'What is holding you back in this life?' he asked, then gave you another firm kiss and, without waiting for your answer, he turned on his heels again and left out the door.

You took a deep breath and closed the door, then anxiously fidgeted with your wedding ring as you leaned back against the door. You tried to collect your thoughts but they were all over the place. And you were so caught up in your own head, that you never realised that Eadith had seen everything.

The next morning Eadith found you in the kitchen, just after you had seen Sihtric leave your husband's room. You had hid yourself when you saw Sihtric, with shaky knees and a dry mouth, and you cursed yourself for the effect the warrior had on you.

'Your husband asked for me to fetch you,' Eadith said, 'he wishes to speak with you.'

You thanked her and made way for your husband. Your heart was beating in your throat, because your husband never wished to just speak with you. You suddenly began to fear that Sihtric told him what had happened the night before, as he only left your husband's room minutes ago. And if he had told him, what would your husband do? You nervously entered his room and stood next to his bed.

'You wanted to speak to me?' you almost whispered.

You were afraid to speak up, as your voice would betray you nerves, and therefore you could betray yourself.

'Yes,' your husband said, his voice was feeble and he spoke slowly, 'that warrior, Sihtric… he asked me for permission to teach you how to fight. He said it would be good for your own protection in case the Danes will come. I stand no chance to defend this place,' he coughed and groaned in pain, then continued, 'so I agreed that it might be a good idea for you to learn some skills. I told him you will meet him at the stables in an hour.'

You were speechless and relieved, and before you could even reply your husband already dismissed you. You left his room and dressed in comfortable clothing, no linen dress today, but a leather jerkin that was suitable to learn how to fight in. You braid your hair and, when it was time, you made way to the stables. You found Sihtric as he saddled his horse and he smiled sweetly when he saw you.

'Good morning, my lady.'

'Good morning,' you smiled, nervously.

'You look beautiful,' he almost purred.

'Thank you,' you blushed, 'you look good today as well.'

Sihtric chuckled and then held his hand out, 'Are you ready?'

'I suppose I am.'

He helped you mount his horse and climbed in the saddle behind you, then spurred the beast into a gallop. Sihtric held the reins as his horse ran through the fields and crossed the river's bridge, all while you were kept in place between his strong arms. And you didn't speak until the horse slowed down when you were far from your home, with no one else around.

Sihtric dismounted and helped you safely back on your feet, his hands lingered on your waist and he then pulled you closer. Your hands settled on his chest, fingers curled around the neck of his leather armour and you pulled him towards you. The kiss was pleasant and familiar, and it was as good and passionate as it had been the night before. But the kiss was also calmer, as there was no worry now to get caught. You soon ran out of breath and the kiss became hotter and deeper. You impatiently tugged at each other's clothes, loosening the laces while you wished your tongues could tangle together into a tight knot, so you'd never have to leave each other again. You removed each other's clothing and Sihtric used his own clothes as an improvised blanket and laid you down upon it. The tall grass made for a shield wall around you, hiding you both, and the sound of the river close by covered the soft moans and ragged breaths that left both your lips. Trees sheltered you from the hot summer sun, but your bodies were damp and slippery and glistening with sweat regardless of the shade.

The Dane was tender with his hands but needy with his mouth, sucking and biting your lips in between kisses. He grinded his bare erection between your thighs, teasing your folds with just the tip of his cock without entering you. You clawed at his back, desperate to feel him inside you and you kissed until you became dizzy and overwhelmed with lust.

'I need you,' you breathed against his lips.

'Are you sure?' Sihtric asked out of breath, his sweaty forehead leaning against yours as he cupped your cheek, 'your husband-'

'Doesn't love me,' you said and silenced him with a kiss.

The kiss was heated and deep, almost aggressive. Your braided hair was dishevelled, as was his short hair after you repeatedly grabbed onto it and raked through it with your fingers. Your hands were on the back of his neck, keeping him close as your tongues explored each other with urgence. You slowly surrendered to Sihtric, knowing this was an act of adultery and if your husband would find out your life would be over. But you had to have Sihtric. You had to know what he felt like now that you already knew what he tasted like. You had fantasised about him all night and touched yourself at the idea of him. And you wanted more than just his kiss, you wanted all of him and to feel him everywhere. Now. The kiss gradually became less aggressive while his warm hands roamed your body, grazing your skin lightly and kneading your flesh firmly when he began to ache for you. You opened yourself fully for him, and your pulse quickened when you felt his tip enter you slowly, teasing you and coating it with your wetness. And a sharp gasp escaped your mouth when he finally pushed inside you, to the hilt, and you had never felt so full and complete before.

He thrusted into you slowly, then picked up his pace as his self control began to falter. You had only barely adjusted to him when he started to slam into you. Your lips weaved together in an attempt to silence your desperate whimpers and his heavy grunts as he rutted against you. Sihtric enveloped his hand under your knee and brought it up, your leg resting on his back, the new angle allowing him to bury his cock even deeper inside of you. You gasped and moaned with each trust, feeling his rough leather armour underneath you bruising your skin with each movement as he kept you firmly pressed down onto it.

He continued to slide in and out of you frantically, and he grabbed your face to look into your eyes. His lips were parted and curled into a smile, his eyes glazed over while his Mjölnir pendant dangled around his neck above you. He traced your lips with his thumb and pushed his digit inside your mouth when you moaned for him. Your tongue swirled around his finger, causing him to growl in pleasure while his free hand squeezed your thigh. Sihtric buried his face in your neck and murmured praises against your skin when you clenched your walls around his twitching cock, feeling your climax approach. You grabbed his broad shoulders and arched your back at the feeling, and he was quick to wrap his arms around you and pulled you up to him. You rode him as he sat back on his heels, your sweaty faces leaned against each other as you moaned and sighed, and you rocked your hips until your legs started to tremble when you finally released with a loud moan. Sihtric moaned sweetly in your ear, and soon you felt his warmth erupt inside of you while his arms were tightly wrapped around you. You collapsed on him and he laid down on his back, keeping you close as you laid on top of him, both exhausted and satisfied. And he slowly raked his fingers through your messy hair while you both caught your breath, smiling… and in love.

'So,' you said once you were both dressed again, 'weren't you supposed to teach me how to fight?'

Sihtric chuckled as he held you in his arms, sitting back against one of the trees, and his lips grazed your ear when he spoke.

'I never planned on teaching you how to fight,' he confessed, 'I've been here for a little while now and there have been so signs of any serious threat. I just needed an excuse to get you out of the house with the permission of your husband.'

'Really?' you scoffed, then laughed and shook your head.

'Really,' Sihtric said softly and intertwined his fingers with yours as he held you, 'I just wanted to see you outside. You always smile when you're outside, you know?' he paused, 'but I never see you smile when you're inside the house. And I just wanted to see you smile.'

You sat in silence and your eyes teared up. Sihtric heard you sniffle and squeezed you in his arms while he remained silent for a moment.

'Why are you still with him if you are so unhappy and feel so unloved?' he asked carefully, 'why don't you leave him?'

'It's not that simple.'

'But it is.'

'It's not. I can't just leave him, because I have nowhere to go,' you whispered and wiped away a tear that rolled down your cheek, 'I have nothing, Sihtric. I owe everything I have to him. If I leave him I have no home and no money. I will have nothing. And you know a woman can't just leave her husband. It would be a disgrace.'

'You could come with me,' he whispered and kissed your ear, 'stay with me. I will take care of you. If you marry me you would be under Uhtred's protection too. You would be safe.'

'I can't,' you sniffled again, 'you know I can't marry you while I am still married to him.'

Sihtric sighed softly and held you tight, until the sun began to lower into the sky and it was time to return back home. You adjusted your clothes and hair once more in the stables back home and you kissed each other deeply one more time before you had to part ways. You slowly walked to your house while Sihtric took care of his horse, before he would retreat to the cottage he resided in. And you wouldn't see each other until the next day.

And because you hadn't seen him anymore, Sihtric was also unaware of what had happened during the night. Eadith told you that your husband had grown very sick when you and Sihtric were out. The summer warmth had gotten to him completely and she did not know how to help him anymore.

'This is beyond my knowledge,' Eadith told you, 'he needs to be brought to the city, where he can get better aid. I can take a horse and transport him in a carriage, but I must do it now.'

And so she left in the night with your husband, not knowing when she would return.

You had told Sihtric the news the next morning. And at first you had been a little distraught, but Sihtric soon made you forget about your disloyal and ill husband. While your husband was being treated somewhere else, you and Sihtric made love in the bed you used to sleep in with your husband before he got injured. And you made love in the kitchen, after the maid was sent home for a few days, and you made love in the living room, on the carpet, multiple times until you were both physically exhausted. You and Sihtric became more fond of each other as the hours passed, and you felt happy for the first time in many years. And you secretly wished that your husband would never return. But he did.

He returned three days later with Eadith, merely an hour after you and Sihtric had made love in the river behind your house while you were bathing together in the first rays of the morning sun. And your husband noticed something was different about you when he saw you again, after you and Sihtric had kissed goodbye in secret and both returned to your daily duties. Your husband looked awful, he looked so much older than a few days before, and he was thin with his skin wrinkled and pale, whereas you were glowing. You had a glow about you that you never had before, and he became suspicious.

He questioned what you had done when he had been away, and you lied and said you only rested and took a forbidden walk in the fields. Your husband was angry that you had left the house, but too weak to argue and whenever he spoke he coughed and groaned, until Eadith hurried in the room and brought him tea. Eadith then asked to have a word with you, and you both left the room.

'Your husband has made advances again, despite him being terribly ill,' she told you, 'I am not interested in an affair with him, but I just want to be honest with you and let you know he is not an honourable man. And I want you to be honest with yourself too,' she suddenly said.

'What do you mean?' you asked, 'I know my husband is not a loyal one, I never lied to myself about that-'

'No,' Eadith interrupted you and took your hands, 'I have seen you,' she whispered, 'with Sihtric. I saw you kiss that night after we all had dinner. But I promise I never said a word to your husband,' she added quickly, 'but you need to stop lying to yourself. Your husband is a piece of weaselshit and he does not deserve you. And look how you are glowing right now, after being away from that miserable man for just a few days. He is old and in pain, he struggles. This man will never make you happy as he is not happy himself. You deserve a man who can satisfy you and protect you. Do not live an unhappy life here, but chase a happy life with the warrior. Because I know you are in love with each other.'

'But I… I can't leave him,' you stammered, 'he will never let me divorce him. And even if he would agree, I will have nothing to my name.'

Eadith gave you a saddened but compassionate look, she told you once again you should pursue a life with Sihtric, but she understood you were torn and it was not an easy choice. When your husband coughed violently again from his room, Eadith said she would make him some more tea and told you to visit the Dane, while she would keep your husband's attention away from you and look after him.

You visited Sihtric in his cottage and told him about your husband's condition and the advances he had made to Eadith despite his illness. Sihtric was furious that you allowed your husband to treat you with this disrespect, and he did not understand why you did not leave him. You argued, respectfully and calmly, and told him once again things are not that simple. You were scared, you could barely remember your life before marriage, you only knew that before your husband you had nothing. And you knew that after leaving your husband you would once again have nothing, if a divorce would even be allowed.

Sihtric kept reminding you that he would take care of you, and the arguing was eventually silenced with a heated kiss. Sihtric had grabbed your face and kissed you aggressively. You had torn off his leather jerkin and pulled down your dress. And not much later you were laying down on the soft furs on his bed, while candles illuminated the cottage and your ragged breaths filled the already thick air. And you made love, emotional and hard love, like beasts. Sihtric covered your mouth with his hand, silencing your moans while he took you from behind, and after you had both finished you cried in his arms until you fell asleep.

Your husband's condition worsened as the days passed by. He did not improve despite the summer heat finally cooling down as autumn was near. He grew weaker and paler with each day, and you did not understand what was happening. You thought he would heal after his treatment in the city, but ever since he returned home his health declined rapidly. You asked Eadith about it, and she finally revealed something shocking to you. You did not know what to do with this information, and so you ran to Sihtric, who was feeding his horse after he had scouted the lands again.

'Did you tell her to stop?' Sihtric asked after he had a moment to process the news.

You didn't answer his question. 'She has been poisoning him,' you repeated yourself, 'ever since they returned from the city. She told me, Sihtric, she told me she has been putting poisonous herbs in his tea.'

'But did you tell her to stop?' he asked again.

You remained silent, and Sihtric dropped the bucket he was feeding his horse from.

'Look,' he said and wiped his hands on his clothes, then raked one hand through his dusty hair, 'I have to leave here soon.'

'What?' you gasped, 'w-what do you mean?'

He took your hand and walked you to his cottage. You followed him inside and sat down on a wooden stool next to him, and he held your hands carefully. He lightly stroked his thumbs over the back of your hands, then looked at you.

'Skade is dead.'

'What? The… the witch?'

'She is dead,' Sihtric said softly, 'she has been dead for a few days already. Uhtred killed her. I just,' he paused, 'I did not want to leave you yet, so I didn't say anything. But there is no more threat to your life, nor that of your husband's. Unless you count Eadith's attempt to kill him,' he chuckled and composed himself quickly when he saw your disapproving look, 'I'm sorry,' he mumbled.

'But… so… you will leave?'

'Yes, my lady,' his voice was pained.

'When?'

'Soon, but,' he cleared his throat and sighed, 'I will not leave here without you.'

'Sihtric…'

'I won't leave without you,' he said sternly, 'you hear me? I want to leave with you as my wife.'

'But I'm still married,' you whispered and pulled your hands away.

You got up and reached for the door, wanting to leave as you did not have the emotional strength to argue about this again. But Sihtric stepped in and grabbed your arm, he pulled you towards him and then backed you up against the cottage's wooden door.

'Do you love him? Be honest.'

His eyes were soft yet threatening as he towered over you.

'No,' you said after a silence.

'Do you care for him?'

'No. Not anymore.'

'Would you mourn him?'

'Sihtric,' you scoffed, 'you can't ask me-'

'Would you mourn him?' he asked again, his breath hot on your lips and his hand trailing up your thigh, 'be honest with me.'

'... No.'

'Then be my wife,' he breathed and kissed under your ear, his hands squeezing your waist, 'then let Eadith take his life slowly and let me take you as my wife once he is dead,' he whispered in your ear, then gently bit your earlobe and dragged his lips up to yours.

He captured you in a passionate kiss and the sexual tension soon sparked again. You moaned against each other's lips, but he stopped you when you began to tug the laces of his leather jerkin.

'I want you more than anything,' Sihtric whispered against your lips, 'but I need to know you will be mine when this is over.'

'I will be,' you whispered and kissed him, 'I promise. I… I love you.'

'I love you too.'

Three days later.

It was a sunny afternoon, a late and hot summer day. Sihtric wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, collecting the drops of sweat before they'd run down his face. You had travelled off the lands your husband owned, and crossed the river to an empty and neglected field. Sihtric threw the shovel out of the hole he had dug and then climbed out. His arms, face, hair and his clothes were covered with layers of dry sand. You and Eadith watched in silence how Sihtric carried your husband's body, wrapped in sheets, to his final resting place.

You had never stopped Eadith and your husband had died earlier that day. Eadith knew this would be your only way out of the marriage without losing everything, and she also knew this was your husband's only way out of his painful and worthless life. You had shed a tear, but you weren't sure if it was of sadness or relief. Sihtric stood back, his hammer pendant clutched in his fist as he watched you say your final goodbye and throw a small bouquet of hand picked flowers into the hole. Eadith stood next to you and held your hand, but she knew that you were not sad. After a moment of silence you looked back over your shoulder to Sihtric, and you signalled him to close the grave. He spoke with Eadith before he shovelled the sand back, and you watched her depart on horseback to inform Uhtred of what had happened. And once the ground was even again and a wooden cross marked the grave, you and Sihtric mounted the same horse and rode back in silence, his arm wrapped around you and his chin resting on your shoulder.

Sihtric stopped by the river, wanting to bathe and rinse himself off the sand that had stuck to his sweaty skin. You watched him undress and he soon asked you to join him, which you did. You rid yourself of your black linen dress and stepped into the water. Sihtric took your hand and pulled you with him, further into the water where you both dunked under completely and kissed in the silence of the river underneath the surface.

You were finally free. Free of your miserable marriage and free to marry Sihtric. Your name was never disgraced or brought to shame, and you owned everything your husband had owned prior to his death, as he left everything to his wife. You knew Sihtric was a warrior and that he often had to travel, but you were now free to travel with him when possible and if it was safe. And you also knew it was good for Sihtric to have a place he could always come home to and spend time at when there were no battles to fight or messages to be sent.

And you married him several weeks later, and a happy and passionate marriage it would be, unlike the one you had been trapped in for so long.

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