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#any other trigger warnings I should put on this for bodies?
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Mission Control 6
Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Captain Hydra
Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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As the man comes toward you, you can’t react. He grabs your jacket, splitting the zipper, and rips it down your arms. You whimper as he strips the fabric away and lets it drop. His hand recoils to his belt and he unsheathes a long hunting knife. You take a step back and he catches back of your head and tuts as he closes in once more. 
He fists your hair in his hand and tugs until you tilt your head back. He pokes the tip of the knife against your chin and drags it down your neck. You quiver as his eyes blaze down at you. His pupils dilate as his gaze falls to the blade and turns it in his grip. He hooks the slightly curved point under your shirt and rents through your shirt. 
He slices so easily through the fabric that it leaves you breathless. You don’t move, terrified of being gashed. He cuts up your bra in quick succession, then your jeans, and your panties, leaving you only in your beat-up sneakers and socks. You’d feel ridiculous if you weren’t so scared. 
He stands straight and raises the knife, showing it to you in a silent threat. He twirls it and slides it back into the sheath on his belt. He looks down as you try to cover yourself with your hands. You shift on your feet and slowly bend to untie your shoes. 
He turns away. You peek up as he goes to the wall and pulls a framed painting, opening the hidden compartment behind. He takes the pistol from his belt and puts it away. He unstraps the harness from around his chest and another blade from his leg. He reveals a few more weapons from under his clothing before he shuts the door; gears whirring to lock it in place. 
Even without a blade, he’s dangerous. You know that much. That he disarmed himself shows that he’s just as aware of the imbalance. You slip free of your shoes and socks and stand, a hand over your pelvis and an arm over your chest. You gulp and search the room helplessly. 
He nears and grabs you by the back of your neck. He marches you across the room and through another door. Within, a bathroom is lit by the flip of a switch. He shoves you towards the tub and reaches to crank on the faucet. The scour of water makes you wince. 
He snaps his finger and points inside. You step over the porcelain wall and he yanks the curtain shut between you. You shiver even as the water steams hotly and pours over you. 
The heat should feel nice but you only shake as it spatters down. You look around. You take the fresh bar of soap and scrub yourself. It smells like rose and vanilla. You set it back in the dish and rinse the lather. 
You glance over. His shadow is gone. You inch towards the curtain and peer around it nervously. He’s not there. 
You retreat and face the showerhead. You turn off the faucet as the water only agitates your skin. You stand shivering, arms crossed, waiting. 
The door clicks open and he stomps back in. He tears back the curtain and shoves a towel against you. You hug it. 
“Thank you,” you look up into his scarred face. “Sir, why...” 
He lifts a single finger and pushes it against your lips. He shakes his head. You close your mouth and unfold the towel. He pulls his hand back as his eyes drift again to your body. You’re self-conscious as you fumble to hide yourself behind the towel. 
He grabs your arm and drags you out of the tub. He takes you out of the bathroom, back into the front room, and through yet another doorway. It’s a bedroom. It’s lit by a ceiling light, dimmed to amber, and a bed stands, draped in grey plaid flannel. 
He points again and let you go. You go to the bed and stop at the foot. It’s then you notice the plain white night gown. You look over your shoulder. He dips his chin down. You turn back and reach for cotton. 
You trade the towel for the nightgown and the door slams. You turn. You’re alone. You sway on your feet and examine the room. The walls are dark wood, rippled with knots and rings. The decor is sparse. The bed, a tall armoire, a shelf in the corner. 
You near the shelf slowly, not sure you’re seeing what’s there. The wall above it is plastered with pictures. Of you. Of your apartment. Of the tea shop. Every aspect of your life documented. Below, the shelf is cluttered with various objects; your possessions. The brush you thought you dropped out of your bag and replaced, several tubes of lip balm but you never finish those, a bracelet you forgot about, and an old journal you thought was still in your closet. 
You back away. This man didn’t just find you, he’s been following you. For a long time. You retreat to the bed and sit on the end. Again, you’re paralysed in futility. 
He returns and you gasp as you look up. He has only a towel at his waist as he barges in. You cower with wide eyes as he walks to the shelf and sets down something in the small glass tray with your bracelet. Your shank of hair. You cover your mouth in horror. 
Is he going to kill you? He’s some deranged murdered and this is his kill room or some weird stuff like that. You stand and clutch the towel. 
“Please just tell me if you’re going to kill me. I’d like to know at least,” you say, quavering. 
His back tenses. Scars crisscross his muscles as they strain beneath the skin. He pushes his head back before he faces you. His expression says nothing. He comes to you, stopping just in front of you. 
He grabs you by the neck and you tense. You try to prepare yourself for death but you won’t ever be ready. Your eyes well up and your heartbeat hammers in your chest. With his other hand, he strips away his towel. You yipe against his firm grip. 
He spreads his hand over the left side of your chest. You can feel your heart more clearly. His palm is hot like fire. You shakily reach to clasp onto his wrist, begging him with your eyes. Not to let you go, but for mercy. Make it quick. 
He squeezes your throat, not enough to block your breath, but enough to make you nervous. He lifts your neck and, without much effort, or care, hurls you back onto the bed. You splay over it as you exclaim and bite your tongue.  
What he intends to do, might be worse than death. 
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five-oh-thirst · 1 day
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In Your Head
Pairing: Fox/Thorn
Summary: Fox has a hole in his memory that he can't seem to fix, and when he starts hallucinating about the clone he killed, it leads to dire consequences.
Tags & Warnings: 18+, character death, alcohol, drunkenness, hallucinations, paranoia, minor suicidal ideation, violence, whump
Word Count: 6.4k
Notes: So, this is a fic I wrote on my non-cloneshipping blog, and I repurposed it into a cloneship fic. All that I ask is that you please don't go looking for the original. I want to keep my two identities a secret. Thank you in advance 💙🫶💙
Read on AO3
Music Vibe:
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Fox sat hunched over his desk and anxiously rapped his stylus against the side of his data-pad. He'd read the report five times now and each pass yielded the same results. His CC number was littered throughout the paragraphs, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember any of it.
He looked up at the chronometer again and shook his head. Time had moved, but he hadn't. He'd been sitting here at his desk doing flimsi-work since early morning, but the report stated otherwise.
It wasn't just the strange lost time that concerned Fox either, or the fact that his CC number was in a report. That was normal. What bothered him about this report was the fact that it clearly stated in paragraph four, line six, that he shot and killed a clone.
And no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn't remember it. He hadn't moved from his desk, and yet, the timestamp put the incident at an hour ago. An hour ago he was at his desk. An hour ago he was doing flimsi-work.
Fox rapped his stylus faster and tapped his foot to match the rhythm, the nervous energy in his body escaping through the repetitive movements. He wouldn't shoot a clone without a reason, would he?
The Coruscant Guard had stunned countless rowdy reckless, and even dangerous clones, but a brother doesn't shoot another brother with the intent to kill. That's not part of their culture. Even 'bad' clones deserved to explain their actions, but those were few and far between.
It must've been a mistake–a typo. There had to be a logical explanation as to why his CC number was in the report even though he wasn't there. Still, he had this odd sinking feeling scratching at the back of his mind that it might not have been a mistake.
The clone he allegedly shot was from the 501st, from Torrent Company–one of Rex's men. Fox had sent a simple comm message to Rex offering his condolence, but Rex's silence worried him. It wasn't like Rex to leave a comm unanswered.
Fox dropped the data-pad onto his desk with a loud clack and his chair creaked when he leaned back. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and brushed the damp curls out of his eyes. It must have been a mistake. There was no other explanation.
He didn't have an explanation for the lost time, but there must've been a reason for that as well. Maybe he fell asleep. It's not impossible since he didn't get the best sleep. His caf was cold, so obviously time had passed since he last filled it.
The data-pad dinged and Fox leaned forward to see what the notification was for. He sighed and tapped on the icon to open it, and his brows furrowed as he read the new information. A surveillance holo-recording of the incident was now available and had been attached to the report.
Fox huffed. This should clear up everything. He tapped the icon to play the recording and watched intently. It was probably some trigger-happy shiny that he'd have a stern talking to later on… but it wasn't.
Fox's breath hitched and his eyes widened. That wasn't some random corrie. That was him. That was his armor. He had the fleeting thought that someone had stolen his armor and impersonated him, but he quickly realized he was still wearing it. He hadn't taken it off since he put it on that morning.
Panic rose in his gut and he continued to watch the recording. He flinched at the moment he pulled the trigger–a blaster bolt leaving the barrel instead of a stun bolt. He killed him. He killed a brother.
That explained why Rex never commed him back. Rex's emotional plea before the incident, Fox don't! stabbed him in the heart, turning his innocent condolence message into him just rubbing salt into an already egregious wound. The report noted the clone killed was ARC-5555–Fives–one of Rex's best men.
Fox only remembered the name because Rex sent him a holo-photo of his two new ARC troopers when they graduated. Rex was so proud. Then he lost one on Lola Sayu, and today, he lost the other–because of him.
Fox had seen and read enough. It was him, he knew that much, but he still didn't remember being there. He didn't remember aiming his blaster, or flicking the safety off, or giving a warning, or pulling the trigger. It was like he was sleepwalking, even though not a single clone out of millions had ever been noted to do so on record.
He found it even more odd that he was on-scene for the shooting and then left. It wasn't like him to leave a scene without getting statements or starting his report. Now that he thought about it, he didn't even write this report. If he didn't, then who did?
Fox yelled in frustration and kicked the leg of his desk. Why couldn't he remember? How could he have forgotten he shot and killed a brother? How could he have forgotten Rex's voice begging him not to? How could he have forgotten leaving his office or coming back?
Fox felt sick. Not only had he killed a brother, but he also killed one of Rex's–a beloved brother. With Rex's radio silence, he probably lost Rex too. Fox didn't blame him. Not after watching the footage. He would hate himself too, and he did.
Fox pulled a ring of keys from his belt pouch and inserted one into the lock on the bottom desk drawer. It clicked and he pulled it open, revealing a small stash of alcohol resting against the back. The glass bottles clinked together as he searched for a specific one.
Finding it, he pulled it out of the drawer and placed it on his desk. He leaned down to grab a glass, hesitated, then closed the drawer without taking it. He twisted the cap off the bottle, grabbed the neck, and tilted the opening to his lips. It was time to forget even more.
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"Fox?" Thorn whispered as he peered into the dark office. "Are you in here?"
Fox groaned in response. His torso rested on top of his desk and the side of his face lay on the cool surface with one hand loosely wrapped around an almost empty glass bottle.
Thorn sighed and shook his head. "What are you doing, Fox?"
"Go away," Fox said, his words slurred and his body twitched.
Thorn ignored Fox's inebriated order and pulled up a chair to sit opposite the desk. "Talk to me."
"Nothin'... to talk about."
"You're drunk while on duty," Thorn said. He grabbed the bottle out of Fox's loose grip and set it out of reach. "Why don't we start with that?"
Fox slowly picked his head up to look at Thorn, and he struggled to keep it steady. "Usen'ye," he spat, then laid his head back down on the desk so the room would stop spinning.
Thorn tapped his fingers against the desk surface next to Fox's head to get his attention and Fox flinched at the magnified sound. "I read the report."
Fox groaned, but this time with more indignation.
Thorn crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. "I've got all night."
"You're so… annoying," Fox said as he slowly picked his head back up to look at his stupid boyfriend. "You know… that?"
Thorn smirked. "Part of my charm."
"Kark… ing… banthas… have more charm." Fox's head swayed as he tried to keep it upright. "You're ugly… too."
Thorn rolled his eyes. "You're getting off topic."
"Why… are you… even here?" Fox asked. He reached for the bottle and Thorn leaned over to move it again.
"You killed a vod," Thorn said flatly.
Fox huffed. "What... do you… know about it?"
"Nothing," Thorn said with a shrug. "That's why I'm here. To talk to you about it, because clearly it's affecting you."
Fox reached for the bottle again and Thorn moved it again. "I'm… not effective."
Thorn raised an eyebrow, stifling a chuckle. "Yeah, I can see that. You can't even talk straight."
"Blow it out your… exhaust port," Fox said, then reached for the bottle once more.
"Really?" Thorn asked, clearly annoyed at the silent game they were playing. He lifted the bottle out of Fox's reach. "If I give you the bottle back, will you talk to me?"
Fox smirked through heavy-lidded eyes. "Sure."
Thorn placed the bottle back down onto the desk and pushed it towards Fox. Fox grabbed it, sat back in his chair, and shot the last burning drops down his throat, then slammed the empty bottle down onto the desk.
"Talk," Thorn said. "Why'd you kill a vod?"
Fox chuckled. "I don't know."
Thorn knitted his brow. "This isn't a game, Fox."
"Nah," Fox said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Games… are fun. This... This isn't..."
Thorn tilted his head to the side and studied Fox for a moment. Even when drunk, Fox usually made some sense, but this particular time he was making zero sense. It wasn't that hard of a question, but his avoidance of answering it was making Thorn worry.
There was something Fox wasn't telling him and he needed to know what it was to help him get out of this slump and back to normal. Having a drunk Marshall Commander leading the Coruscant Guard wasn't going to get anyone anywhere fast. 
"Fox," Thorn prodded.
"Don't Fox me," Fox said. "How'd you… like it… if I said your name? Thorn. Thorn. Thorn. Thorn–"
"Alright, I get it," Thorn said. "Just tell me what happened."
Fox shrugged. "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I don't remember."
"You don't remember shooting a vod?"
"Nope."
Thorn pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You have to remember something? You killed him. Don't you remember that? Were you drunk then, too?"
"No, I wasn't drunk," Fox said, his agitation grew at the continued questioning. "I just don't remember!" He pounded his fists onto the desk, causing Thorn to flinch.
"Easy, cyare," Thorn soothed. He reached out a hand to try and calm him down. "It's okay."
"No!" Fox yelled. His body jerked weakly as he batted Thorn's hand away. "Is snot. I shot… a vod. I killed… a vod, and I can't… kriffin' remember!"
Thorn realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with Fox this drunk and worked up, so he decided to cut his losses and try again later. "Get some rest," he said before getting up from his chair. He looked down at Fox's dilapidated state, shook his head, then turned to leave.
"Bring me… more booze," Fox said.
Thorn turned around and scoffed. "You don't need any more of that."
Fox grabbed the empty bottle and threw it towards Thorn, but it hit the wall by the door instead and shattered into a million pieces. "Shabuir."
Thorn sighed. "We'll talk again when you're sober." He turned back towards the door and left Fox alone in his office.
Fox grumbled and laid his heavy head back down against the cool desk. He wasn't truly angry at Thorn, as annoying as he was. No. He was angry at himself. Angry that he couldn't remember what his own two hands did. Angry that he couldn't remember where his own two feet took him. Angry that his brain refused to put all of the pieces together or fill in the blanks. Where had his memory gone? Had it grown legs and walked away from him? Had it left him or did he leave it? Was that even possible?
Fox would stay lying against his desk all night if he could, but the ache in his back was beginning to overpower his drunken haze. Part of getting old, he guessed. He needed to try and make it to his couch where he could stretch out and fall asleep.
At least while asleep, he wouldn't have to think about it. That was the idea behind the alcohol in the first place; drink to forget, but it didn't have the effect he was hoping for. If anything, it only made it worse. Then his beloved Thorn butted in and ruined it further.
Fox tried to peel himself off his desk, but his body was heavy. He managed to sit up, but then slumped back into his chair, whacking his head against the back of it. He groaned at the pain and rubbed the aching spot.
When he opened his eyes, the room was spinning, and it made him feel sick. Well, sicker than he already felt before he was drunk. He chuckled to himself. The good stuff was really good. He hadn't been this drunk since he was a shiny new commander hot off Kamino.
Trying again, Fox planted his hands squarely on his desk and rocked to push himself out of the chair. He tried once and couldn't get it. He tried twice and still couldn't get it. He tried thrice and finally, he was on his feet, although he used a little too much force and fell forward onto his desk. Maybe it was better if he crawled to the couch instead of walking there. He let the weight of his lower body slide the rest of him off the desk until he was sitting on the ground and leaning against the desk.
He leaned past the desk and turned his head to see where the couch was, but he leaned a little too far and slumped over onto the ground. He groaned. This was a terrible idea. He wished he could get Thorn to come back and carry him to the couch, but that would bruise his ego into an irreparable state. No, he had to make it on his own.
With a little wiggle of his hips, Fox rolled himself onto his stomach and crawled towards the couch. Usually, it was closer, but right now it felt klicks away. Maker, he was tired. Why did he put the couch so far away from his desk? Or better yet, why couldn't it come to him?
Someone should've invented a moving couch by now, but no, the Galactic Republic was too busy making clones to do anything of real use in his lifetime. And yet, Fox continued to crawl towards his couch, cursing it every time he scooted closer. With one final push, he made it, but accidentally bumped his head against the leg. He cursed it again.
Now, it was just a matter of hoisting himself up onto the stupid thing so he could finally go to sleep. Once again, something that used to be so trivial was causing him grief. Why was it so high up? Why was the floor so far down? Why wouldn't the room stop spinning?
He wished he could steady himself long enough to get a grip, but his body was heavy from the alcohol. However, with a little more effort and a lot more cursing, Fox grabbed one of the cushions, pulled himself up, and flopped onto the couch.
Thank the Maker, he finally made it. Fox rolled off of his stomach and settled himself with his back against the back of the couch so he didn't suffocate himself within the couch cushions. Although, at this point, it didn't sound like such a bad idea.
He chuckled to himself about the thought. Thorn would kill him if he left him like that. Only his boyfriend would find a way into the afterlife and kill him all over again for being such an idiot. Although, to Fox, it was a comforting thought; Thorn coming after him like that.
Even if they tried to hide it from everyone, they were still a couple. Some days, when they fought, it didn't feel like it, but when push came to shove, there was no one he'd rather have his back in this war. Perks of growing up together and falling in love, he figured.
Fox released a wide yawn that made his stomach churn, but he was happy that his body wanted to rest. With a few slow breaths, he let himself drift off to sleep, wondering if he would wake up and finally remember or if his memory would still be adrift.
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Fox groaned as he stirred from his sleep. He slowly opened one eye and saw that it was still dark out, which meant either he slept until the next evening or he barely slept at all. He didn't feel drunk anymore, so maybe he did sleep for a while; an absolute miracle.
Even more surprising was the fact that no one bothered him while he slept, which also meant Thorn kept everyone away and covered for him–the idiot. He'd need to apologize and thank Thorn the next time he saw him.
Fox carefully shifted to sit himself up, holding the side of his head as it pounded from the hangover. He hadn't had a hangover like this in a very long time. He'd have to look at the label on the bottle and get himself another one of whatever it was.
Blinking a few times to get rid of the glaze over his eyes, he looked around the room but frowned when he saw the broken glass by the door. Oh yeah. I broke it. He wouldn't buy another one of those anytime soon. Such a shame.
With a deep breath, Fox hoisted himself up off the couch and grabbed the arm to steady his shaky legs. He didn't feel woozy, but his body still felt heavy, like there were rocks in his head weighing him down.
He rolled his neck, then his shoulders, and then arched his back to stretch it out. One of his vertebrae made a popping sound and he groaned. Even though he tried to lie down in a good position, couch sleeping was still not as nice as a bunk. He needed some ibuprofen.
Fox hobbled his way to the refresher connected to his office and was–once again–thankful for the amenities he had access to as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. It would've been embarrassing to walk down to the guard barrack's communal refresher to compose himself.
Thorn would've gotten a good laugh, though, the jerk. He would have said something stupid just to piss him off. But that was the game they chose to play because Fox had embarrassed Thorn on multiple occasions too.
Fox stepped into the refresher without flipping the light switch on and twisted the faucet knob to run the water cold. He cupped the rushing water in his hands and splashed it onto his face. The cool water felt good on his hot skin and soothed his throbbing headache.
He splashed the water on his face a few more times and then used one last good splash to smooth over his unruly curls. He patted his face dry with the towel and stared at himself in the mirror, except something about his reflection was… off.
Fox rubbed the towel across his face again, thinking he had some water stuck in his eyes that made his vision blurry, but the reflection still looked odd. He then used the towel to wipe down the mirror, leaving small streaks of water where he swiped, but that didn't clear it either.
Refusing to play with it any longer, Fox opened the mirror cabinet and grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen. He popped a few and swallowed them dry, wincing as he felt them go down his throat, and then closed the cabinet.
Hi Fox, a voice said.
Fox startled and stumbled back, crashing against the opposite wall with a loud thud. "Kriff, Thorn!" He turned his head towards the refresher door to rip Thorn a new one, but he wasn't there. "Thorn?" he called, but there was no answer.
He peeked his head out of the refresher to see if there was anyone in his office, but it was still dark and empty. It was just him; he was alone. He'd never had a hangover that made him hear things before. At least not that he remembered. Fox's heart raced with adrenaline.
Fox, the voice said.
Fox flinched at the sound of his name and whipped his head around to try and find who was calling his name, but there was still no one there. "Thorn," Fox said with a warning tone. "I swear to the Maker, I will kill you if–"
So, you like to kill, huh? the voice said.
Fox froze and his blood ran cold. He didn't just hear that, did he? The sound of another clone talking to him, yet he was still alone in the refresher. His instincts screamed at him to run and find Thorn, because clearly he was hallucinating, or sick, or dying, or all three at once. He shouldn't have been hearing voices, or at least he didn't think he should've been hearing voices.
Fox closed his eyes took a couple deep breaths to calm himself and hoped that whatever it was would go away.
It's rude to ignore people, you know, the voice said. Especially dead people.
Yup, he was crazy. He was one hundred percent certified crazy. Not only was he hearing voices, but he was hearing voices of the dead . What had he done while he was drunk and asleep? Conjured a demon? Summoned a spirit? Invited a deity to chat over some caf? The other option was that he was still plastered and hallucinating being sober. Honestly, both ideas sounded equally as insane, but did they make any less sense than him hearing voices?
"Whatever you are," Fox said. "I'm sorry for bothering you, but I'm going back to bed now."
Fox pushed himself off the wall and walked towards the refresher door to leave, but it slid shut before he could exit. He stared at the closed door and took another deep breath, then released it slowly.
He slid his hands over his holsters, but the blasters were missing. They must have fallen out while he was sleeping and he never noticed. He mentally kicked himself for being so absentminded as to leave them on the couch, but in his defense, there weren't many who would attack him in his own office.
Fox ran his tongue across his teeth and puffed his chest out before turning around to face whatever was messing with him, but when he did, there was no one else in the refresher besides himself. He bit his lip and nodded his head.
It must've been a dream. He was living in a dream and he couldn't wake up. That had to be the answer. There was no other explanation. Once he woke up, he was going to find Thorn and make him get rid of all of his liquor, because this nuttiness wasn't worth the trip.
I'm still waiting, the voice said impatiently. Are you gonna answer me or not?
Fox gritted his teeth and thought for a moment. If he answered the voice of the dead, was something bad going to happen to him? It wasn't like his life could get any worse. He was already a dog of the Republic, he'd shot and killed a brother, and he was probably the most hated commander in the GAR. There wasn't much else they could do to him.
Fox was startled at the sudden realization. The voice of the dead… a dead clone. Voice of the dead… a clone he killed. Fox's heartbeat pounded ferociously in his ears.
He took a few steps towards the sink and peered into the mirror, the same mirror where his reflection didn't look right. He was so groggy when he first came into the refresher that it didn't dawn on him to wonder what in the reflection was off, just that it didn't look right.
He stared at his reflection, and tilted his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows as he studied the image, and then his eyes grew wide when he realized that the reflection hadn't followed the tilt of his head. He moved in closer.
Boo, the reflection said with a smirk.
"Kriffin' osik!" Fox screamed and out of reflex, he punched the mirror, cracking it. He heaved in heavy breaths and pulled his fist out of the mirror, his glove protecting his skin from getting cut by the broken shards.
The reflection sighed and sidestepped into the part of the mirror that wasn't as broken. Really?
Fox was on the verge of hyperventilating. Fear and adrenaline took control of every muscle in his body. His reflection was talking to him. It was moving without him. But it wasn't even him. He could see that now.
Fox took a moment to study the image in the mirror. The armor was white, like a shiny's, their head was shaven, and they had a goatee, and an Aurebesh tattoo on their right temple not far from a small linear scar. Fox's jaw dropped. It was him . It was the clone he'd shot and killed.
Figure it out yet? the reflection asked, sounding bored.
"You're…" Fox tried to speak, but he still wasn't sure what he was actually seeing.
The name's Fives, the reflection said while tapping his Aurebesh tattoo. You should remember since you killed me.
Fox was speechless and wide-eyed. He felt sick to his stomach. He knew who Fives was, but he still didn't remember shooting him. He never even met him, and the only images he had of him were in his ARC armor, not whatever he was wearing now.
Fox thought back to the recording that was attached to the report and remembered seeing himself shoot the white-armored clone. He had found it strange at the time, and it made him wonder why, but not enough to hallucinate about him.
"This isn't real," Fox said as he backed away from the mirror. " You're not real! You're dead!"
The reflection snorted. What? No remorse? No, sorry I killed you?
"I don't remember killing you!" Fox yelled, half in shock and half in self-defense. His back touched the hard durasteel wall and he slid down it until he was sitting on the floor.
Don't remember? the reflection asked. You shot me! How could you forget that?
Fox pulled his knees to his chest, clasped his hands over his ears, and squeezed his eyes shut. "Just leave me alone!" he yelled again, trying to make the voice go away. "I said I don't remember!"
I'm not leaving, the voice said. Not until you remember what you did to me.
"Go away!" Fox screamed. "Leave me alone!" His breathing became labored and he felt like he was going to pass out. "This is… a nightmare."
Oh, Fox, the reflection chuckled, then pushed itself out of the mirror and folded its arms to lean on the edge of the sink and stare down at Fox. Your nightmare has just begun.
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The next two rotations had Fox feeling insane. The voice inside the mirror wasn't just a voice anymore. It was a full-body apparition that followed him around wherever he went. He couldn't even take a piss without that thing watching him.
He still wondered if it was the actual Fives or if it was just a figment of his imagination; maybe the subconscious part of his brain conjured it up because of the guilt he felt for killing the clone. He wanted to tell Thorn about it, but even he had limits on disbelief, and besides that, he was at some senate event so he hadn't seen him since he threw the bottle at him.
Hour after hour, the apparition asked Fox if he remembered killing it yet, and hour after hour, Fox still had the same answer–no. Maker, he wished it would just take a hike and go haunt someone else, even if it was just for a couple of minutes. He needed peace.
There was nothing worse than trying to work or sleep while it watched him from across the room with its cold, dark, dead eyes and smug expression. If this was the real Fives, then he didn't understand why Rex liked him so much. He was an annoying piece of work for sure.
However, the third rotation was strangely quiet. The apparition was nowhere to be seen, or heard, and Fox was taking the much-needed alone time to catch up on the reports he'd been neglecting since it first appeared. It must have been a figment of his imagination brought on by stress or something along those lines. There was always a logical explanation for everything, or so he thought.
Fox looked up from his data-pad when he heard a soft knock on his office door frame.
"I brought you some caf," Thorn said with a smile. "Can I come in?"
Fox nodded. He was glad Thorn was back from the event, even if he didn't say it out loud.
Thorn walked into the office, placed the cup down in front of Fox, and sat leisurely on the corner of his desk.
Fox grabbed the cup of hot, black caf and deeply inhaled its alluring aroma. "Is this a peace offering?"
Thorn snorted. "You should be bringing me a peace offering for all that name-calling."
Fox winced at the vague memory, then took a sip. "Sorry."
"Apology accepted," Thorn says. "You're still a di'kut, though."
"Your di'kut," Fox smirked.
Is he a friend of yours? the apparition asked as it appeared next to Fox.
Fox startled and accidentally dropped the cup of caf onto his lap. "Kriff!"
Thorn also startled and jumped off the corner of Fox's desk. "Are you alright?"
Fox sighed. "Yeah. Just grab me a towel, will ya?"
Thorn walked off towards the refresher to grab a towel.
He seems like a nice vod, the apparition said as it watched Thorn with interest. Is he your cyare?
Fox chose to ignore the question and the ghost.
You know, the apparition continued. It hopped up onto the desk to sit in front of Fox, legs dangling over the edge. I had a cyare once–actually two. They're both dead, now… Like me. Must be nice to have yours still alive, huh?
Fox glared at the apparition and snarled. "Don't you touch him!"
The apparition chuckled. I'm a ghost, remember? I can't even touch you. The apparition reached out to touch Fox, but its hand went straight through him. See? I'm not going to hurt your cyare.
Fox continued to glare, not fully trusting what the apparition said. Thorn was more than just his boyfriend, but this was his issue to deal with, and he wasn't going to drag Thorn down this insane hole of guilt and self-loathing with him. 
Even so, it would be great if Thorn could see the apparition too. Maybe then, he wouldn't feel so crazy about the whole situation. A little validation went a long way in his mind. He just needed Thorn to see it once, then he could feel safe again–feel normal again.
"Fox?" Thorn asked with concern while handing him the towel. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Fox grabbed the towel and patted himself and the chair dry. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Thorn didn't look convinced, but he also didn't argue.
I'm not fine, the apparition said. I'm dead.
Fox wanted to say something in rebuttal, but Thorn's lack of comment about the elephant in the room made him wonder. He turned his head to the apparition and then to Thorn, and then back again. "You don't see it, do you?"
"See what?" Thorn asked, a confused expression on his face.
"Nothing," Fox said and tossed the towel onto the desk before slumping back into his chair. "Never mind."
"Fox," Thorn said hesitantly. "I think you should see a medic. You've been acting strange lately and I'm worried."
Yeah, Fox, the apparition added. You should see a medic for that missing memory issue. Maybe they can tell you why you killed me.
"I don't need a medic!" Fox exclaimed as he slammed his fists onto the desk. Thorn flinched and Fox bit his tongue and sighed. "Sorry. I'm just tired is all."
Thorn still didn't look convinced, and he shook his head. "Alright, I trust your judgment."
I don't, the apparition said. You shot me.
"Thanks," Fox said. His eye twitched. It was hard enough to keep his thoughts straight, but it was even harder when he had two people talking to him at once and only one of them was actually there.
"I'm here if you need me," Thorn said. He placed a firm but gentle hand on Fox's shoulder and squeezed. "Even if you just want to talk."
You can talk to me too, the apparition said.
"I appreciate that," Fox said, trying to give him the best fake smile he could muster.
Thorn threw Fox another look of concern but turned and left his office all the same.
Fox immediately turned his attention to the apparition. "Can you just shut up?!"
No, the apparition said. That's the whole point of haunting. I'm supposed to be annoying.
Fox dropped his head onto his desk and yelled in frustration.
The apparition hopped off the desk and knelt so its face was on Fox's level. Just tell me why you killed me, Fox, it whispered. And I'll go away.
Fox clutched the side of his head with his hands. "I'm trying," he choked out. "But I can't remember."
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It had been a week and Fox was on the verge of losing himself. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He couldn't do anything. The reports were piling up and questions were being asked. Thorn continued to pry, and he appreciated the thought, but he wished he'd just drop it.
Every time Thorn came into his office or snuggled into his arms in bed, the apparition stared at him like he was a piece of meat. Fox knew the apparition couldn't hurt Thorn, at least, that was what he'd been made to believe, but what if he was wrong? What if it could hurt Thorn?
He couldn't let it get Thorn. It could torment him all it wanted, it could even kill him if it wanted to, but he would not let anything happen to Thorn. Thorn was too good for this kind of torturous hell. Thorn hadn't killed any clones. He probably hadn't killed anyone.
There was no reason for Thorn to be brought into this. It was Fox the apparition wanted. The clone's blood was on his hands, not Thorn's. Thorn had nothing to do with any of this and Fox would do anything to protect him. He would die for Thorn in a heartbeat.
Hi Fox, the apparition said while leaning against the door frame of the office.
"What do you want?" Fox said with disdain from where he sat behind his desk.
The truth, the apparition said with a smug grin. You've been keeping it from me.
"Like I've said," Fox said. "I still don't remember."
Not good enough, the apparition said as it pushed itself off the door frame and approached Fox's desk.
Fox stood up, his chair violently scraping across the floor. "I won't let you hurt Thorn."
What are you talking about? the apparition asked.
"Don't play dumb with me!" Fox yelled. "I know you're going to hurt him to get back at me."
Are you alright, Fox? the apparition taunted. You seem a little off today.
"Get out of my head!" Fox clutched the sides of his head. "I know what you're doing!"
What's the matter? the apparition taunted further. I've never seen you so unhinged before.
"Leave me alone!"
C'mon, Fox. The apparition walked closer. Just tell me.
Fox drew one of his blasters and pointed it towards the ghostly figure. "Get away from me!"
Whoa, there, the apparition said, putting its hands up and taking a single step back. There's no need for that.
Fox breathed heavily. "I'm warning you!"
You won't shoot me, the apparition smirked. You have no reason to shoot me. Put the blaster down, Fox.
"I won't let you hurt him!" Fox yelled, then fired a single bolt through the same spot as before, on the apparition's chest, through its heart. He watched as the apparition fell to its knees and clutched at its chest. That'll stop it. That'll shut it up. That'll make it leave him alone. That'll keep it from hurting–Thorn?
Fox panted as his senses began to clear. The vision of the apparition slowly dissipated, leaving behind the image of Thorn grasping the bleeding hole in his chest. A look of pain, shock, horror, and confusion painted his face as he looked at Fox.
No. This couldn't be happening. He didn't. He couldn't. Did he just shoot his lover? But it was the ghost! The ghost was right there. It was talking to him. It was taunting him. It was going to hurt Thorn.
"Fox," Thorn gasped. "Why?"
At the sound of Thorn's voice, the gravity of what Fox had done hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened, tears brimming at the surface, and his voice quivered. "Thorn?"
Thorn collapsed forward onto the floor and Fox rushed to his side.
"No, no, no, no," Fox rambled as he rolled Thorn over and applied pressure to the wound. "I need a medic!" he yelled. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I… I didn't know it was you. There was a ghost and it was in my head and I couldn't remember." Tears fell from Fox's eyes as he tried desperately to explain.
Thorn reached up a hand to touch Fox's cheek and Fox grabbed it with his own.
"I'm… sorry," Thorn said weakly. "I… wish… I… could've… helped… you…" Thorn's hand dropped as his body went limp and he breathed his last breath.
"Where's my medic!" Fox yelled, tears now streaming down his face unabated. "Hang on, cyare." He pulled Thorn's lifeless body close to his chest and rocked him back and forth. "Please, don't go. Don't leave me."
The apparition appeared once again, crouched down in front of Fox, and looked apathetically at Thorn's lifeless body. It shook its head. And to think all of this could've been avoided if you would've just told me what I wanted to know.
Fox looked at the apparition. He was still in shock.
Oh well, the apparition said with a smirk. A vod for a vod. At least you'll remember killing this one.
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Tagging a few people who were interested: @brokenphoenix99
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f1goat · 3 months
Text
his stripper + lando norris (one shot)
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In which Lando his friends take him to a stripclub, where he meets you. He's quick to come back weekly, every Tuesday you're his. But when he comes another day and finds you on the lap of some other guy, something in him snaps.
fem!stripper reader x lando norris
trigger warnings: stripper reader, sexual content, smut, a bit of unwanted physical contact (nothing much!) + not proofread as usual
masterlist - playlist
the first time at the stripclub
He’s nervous. This is nothing for him. The whole setting is wrong and puts him off. His mood is getting worse instead of better, but he can’t tell his friends about that. They tried, they really did. After Lando told them about being a bit miserable since the break up with his ex, they tried everything to cheer him up. Nothing really worked. Clubbing all night whenever he could, didn’t do the trick. Flirting shamelessly with every girl he saw, also didn’t work. He believes that tonight is some last option. A ‘if this doesn’t work, nothing will’ kind of option. 
But, this is a fucking stripclub. It won’t help him feel any better. To be honest, it only seems to make things worse. 
Lando looks at every small detail in the club. The atmosphere makes him even more nervous. It surprises him that there are many young guys who seem to be around his age. He always thought there only would be older guys. He takes a sip of his drink. It seems to be some strong cocktail with whiskey. He doesn’t like it. 
“You’re looking as bitter as that drink,” one of his friends tell him jokingly. 
Lando soft sighs and nods, “Maybe you’re right,” he says. 
“Just enjoy this mate,” another friend says. 
Lando tries to think about words that can tell his friends that he won’t enjoy this, but he doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. Before he can think about the right words, he’s distracted by the music becoming louder. Almost ashamed he starts to look at the podium, where you enter the place and greet everyone with a timid smile. 
You aren’t what Lando thought a stripper would be. It’s almost as there is an innocence hanging around you. He almost feels like he has to save you from this place. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this? Lando already starts to feel infected with the thoughts about you. He’s already feeling you enter his mind and making a long term place for yourself.
That can’t be good.
He keeps looking at you. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you. Everything about you is beautiful. You aren't a model like his ex, but maybe that’s what he likes most about you right now. There’s some sort of natural beauty hanging around you. And in combination with the innocence look on your face, it makes you way too dangerous for him. He should look away from you, leave this place and never come back. But Lando already starts to feel addicted. Fuck, who are you?
“I told you he’d like her.” He hears one of his friends make a remark to another one. He wonders if his friends came here more often. Have saw you before. Maybe even touched you? Fuck, he almost feels himself getting mad at only the thought.
You’re a stripper. He needs to remind himself about that all the time. But when he sees the way you’re moving on the stage, his opinion changes again. You’re not simply stripping like earlier girls on that stage did. It’s almost like you’re performing some sort of art. 
He really is losing his mind here.
Lando looks at all the movements you make. He watches how you slowly tease the crowd with your movements. When you unclasp your bra, Lando almost loses it. He doesn’t want you to show everyone even more of your body. A relieved sigh is leaving his mouth when he notices the nipple stickers on your boobs. 
The short skirt you’re wearing is next. Slowly you turn yourself around to give the crowd a sneak peak. Lando wants nothing more then to feel your ass. When he sees what you’re hiding on the short skirt, he wants nothing more for you to sit in his lap. Eventually you lose the skirt as well. Lando feels in some trance while staring at you. Why can’t he function like a normal person anymore?
When the first girls danced on stage, he couldn’t care less. But with you? He can’t seem to look away. His friends notice it as well. It’s probably even worse then they already expected. Lando doesn’t pay attention to them anymore, until you leave the stage. He can barely withhold himself from throwing money on the stage as well. It seems rude to do so, even though it’s your job. 
Would it be a sin to get you alone with him? 
The next girl shows up and starts her routine, but Lando has lost his focus again. He’s focussing on his friends who are making fun of him for liking you this much. It annoys him how he doesn’t even know who you are, what your name is and how he can see you again. 
“We have one more surprise for you,” his best friend, Max, tells him. Lando gives him a strange look. What is he talking about? Instead of getting an explanation, there’s showing up someone in front of him. It seems to be one of the security members from the club. “Suzuka is ready for you,” he tells Lando. 
“Go with him,” his friends encourage Lando. He feels strange. Who’s Suzuka? Is that a nickname from one of the strippers? Of course his friends picked someone with a name who’s connected to formula one. He sighs, but he does follow the security member. What if it’s you? He needs to know for sure.
In a short amount of time he has followed the guy to a smaller room. There’s no one around yet. The guy tells Lando that Suzuka will be here any moment. It makes him nervous. When he looks around in the room, it’s clear that it’s used for the more private dances. Fuck. He doubts about leaving this room, this place and his friends, to go home. But the small chance of you being Suzuka stops him. So, he takes place on the small couch that’s standing in the room. 
When the door opens, he’s surprised that it is actually you. 
Apparently his friends know him ever better then he already thought. They did pick out the right girl. 
From up close you look even more beautiful to him. Lando again feels like he’s entering some sort of trance. You walk closer towards him. It makes him nervous. What does he need to say to you? He doesn’t even know what’s going to happen next. Is he getting a private dance? Or are his friends just pranking him? 
“Hey,” you softly greet Lando. It amazes him that you still seem shy and timid. He thought that was an act for on the stage. “Hi,” Lando greets you back with even more nerves. 
When you show Lando another small smile, he feels like he’s going to lose it. He needs to feel your body against his. He needs it. Now. His dick has already hardened up and is pressing painfully against his jeans. 
“I need to inform you about the rules first,” you tell him a bit less timid. It’s almost like a business transaction right now. “You can’t touch me unless I give permission first, which I normally don’t. When the time is up, it’s up. No begging for more. This is just a lap dance. Don’t ask for more, because this is all I do. If you want more, find another girl.” 
“You only give lap dances?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes,” you confirm.
“Thank god,” Lando sighs. 
He doesn’t know where this reaction is coming from. He’s just glad that other guys can’t touch you as well. Before you can ask him about his reaction, there’s a slow song starting. Apparently it’s your sign to start dancing. In no time you’re closely pressed up against his body. Slowly grinding your ass against Lando his body. It takes a lot from him to stop himself from touching you. 
Lando doesn’t know how to act. The moves you’re making are making him lose his mind. It’s insane. He wants to touch you, but he can’t. There’s nothing more he wants then to press his lip against any place of your body. To discover your body with his hands. To do whatever you allow him to. But he doesn’t make any movements. He lets you do your thing. He can’t however stop himself from questioning you. 
“What’s your real name?” He asks you when he notices that the song is about to end.
You grind yourself on his clothed dick and even let out a soft moan. Something that surprises you as well. Normally you absolutely hate doing this part of your job, even saying no whenever you can to the private dances. But this guy, he’s doing things to you as well. And that without even doing things.
“I’ll tell mine in return,” Lando tries to convince you. He doesn’t know that you know who he is. You know a lot more about him then he suspects at this point.
“No need Lando,” you tell him. You see how his eyes widen from the surprise. What you don’t see is that Lando feels like he’s really losing everything right now. It sounds heavenly to hear you say his name. “But,” you continue with a soft voice, “if you promise to keep it a secret, you can know mine.”
“Promise,” Lando quickly says.
The music has stopped in the mean time. You know that you have to leave this room, but before you actually do so you move closer to Lando once more. 
“It’s y/n,” you whisper in his ear, “and maybe if you come again, you can figure out some other things about me.” 
It’s the first time ever that you ask someone to come again. 
You really hope you’ll see Lando again. 
the second time at the stripclub
It surprises you when the following Tuesday Lando is already back in the stripclub. You wonder if it’s for you. Or is it just a coincidence? It doesn’t take you long to notice him. He’s early and it seems like he’s alone this time. Before you can think about it in any more details, you’re already distracted by the others girls in the dressing room with you. 
They have seen him as well. It’s not that weird for a celebrity to be seen in this stripclub. It’s Monaco after all. Charles Leclerc has been here a couple times as well and many non formula one related celebs as well. But still, it seems like your coworkers have found some interest in Lando as well. They keep talking about his good looks and how they would drop everything for him. How he can have his way with them, even discarding the rules of the club. “If he wants to fuck me, who am I to say no?” One girl even jokes.
It makes you annoyed in some weird way. Before you had a small bit of hope for Lando to pick you again tonight. But now you realize that last time his friends chose, this time he’ll probably try someone else. Maybe even one from your coworkers who doesn’t follow the rules. 
While standing in front of the mirror you decide to change your outfit again. Now that you know that he’s here again, you have another outfit in mind. It’s a bit more orange then what you’re wearing now, some may even say that it’s more papaya. 
Lando has already made sure that you’re his after your show. The small room from before has been booked again. Since he met you last week, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He needed to see you again. So, here he is. This will probably be the last time, he just needs to prove to himself that you weren’t that special. He hasn’t been this close with another girl since his ex, that must have been the cause for his extreme reaction. 
When you show up in a tiny papaya dress on the stage, Lando has lost all his earlier thoughts.
Fucking hell. He was so wrong. You’re more then special. You’re everything.
He watches your show. He can safely say that he didn’t even miss a millisecond. He saw everything. He couldn’t even tear his eyes of you if he wanted to. 
After your show he’s quick to walk towards the same room as last week. This time he can find it himself. When he’s standing in front of the door, he suddenly starts to feel nervous. Isn’t it weird what he’s doing? What if you think he’s creepy? 
Before he can back out, you’re already opening the door for him. You’re glad when you notice that it is him again. 
“You’re back,” you softly state.
Lando can only nod. 
“That’s great,” you tell him with a smile.
When he walks inside the room with you, he can’t stop focusing on the way your ass bounces every time you take a step. It’s making him even more aroused. When you take him towards the same sofa as last week, Lando lets you. He sits down and waits for the music to start. He waits for you to start dancing again. 
You position yourself on his lap. The music can start any minute, but before you want to do something else. Carefully you take Lando his hands into your own. You place them on your own body. Lando is quick to show you a confused look. 
“Don’t make it inappropriate,” you joke, but there’s a truth hiding into your words. Lando nods quickly. He doesn’t move his hands. The feeling of your soft skin underneath his hands is already enough for him. Softly he holds your waist, waiting for you to continue.
Then the music starts. Lando loses himself in your moves, but he makes sure that his hands stay on your waist. It surprises you. When you’re done a few minutes later, Lando has many questions for you but has no idea with which one he should start. Eventually he asks you the worst one.
“Why?”
He doesn’t need to explain himself, you know what he’s asking. 
“Money,” you answer as if it’s the only possible answer. For you it is. 
Lando grabs his wallet, doesn’t think about his next movements and gets all the cash he has out of it. He gives you all of it. You don’t know what to say or do. Thankfully you accept it.
“Take the rest of the week off please,” Lando softly asks you. Then the lights in the room are going on again. It’s your sign to leave. You do however nod at Lando his question. 
“Next week, same time?” You ask Lando jokingly before leaving the room. This time it’s Lando who shows you a nod.
You’re boss is ready to kill you when you tell him you’ll only work on Tuesdays from now on. Lando his money is maybe not enough to make such a decision, but you’re sure about yourself. You’ll manage. 
the fourth time at the stripclub
Every Tuesday he’s here again. Always at the beginning of the night. He’s the first one to book you for a lapdance. He’s also the only one you agree to. You guess that he pays your boss good money, because the guy doesn’t even complain anymore if you deny other guests. 
Last weeks you have gotten to know Lando better. Conversations are still small and awkward, but you have the idea that you’re getting somewhere with Lando. Before you always went to the stripclub because ‘you had to’, now you’re looking forward it. Lando changed things for you. Even the dance you perform for everyone is almost nice now. You love the feeling of Lando watching you. It even makes you feel kinda aroused. 
Sometimes you can’t stop staring at Lando when you’re dancing in front of the crowd. It’s insane how he makes you feel. Is it weird that it almost feels like you’re crushing on him? That must be weird.
“Babygirl,” Lando greets you happily when you walk into the room. You’re quick to greet him back and give him a small hug. Lando smiles at you. He can safely say that Tuesday has become the favorite day of his week. Sometimes he thinks about coming more often, but he barely can. His schedule is busy and there are a lot of races. It may be only Tuesday that he sees you and he doesn’t even speak to you for a long time, but he really likes it. Maybe he can even say that he likes you. Not that he’s surprised about that, it was pretty clear after the impact you made on him the first time.
Slowly you move your body over Lando. You let your ass grind on his cock. Lando feels it hardening underneath your touch. Things feel different today. It almost seems like you’re doing even more then the other times. You make sure that with every move, you make contact with his crotch. Shaking your ass as sensual as you can.
When you turn around and take place on Lando his lap, he lets out a moan. Normally he has to take care of himself after what you’re doing to him, but this time he already starts to feel close to an orgasm. You grind yourself on his lap. It makes him insane. When you grab Lando his head and softly move it to your neck, the hint is clear. Lando let himself explore your neck and shoulders. He presses soft kisses against it.
It seems like you want him to enjoy things even more. His hand, which was earlier sneaked around your waist, is now in your hand and on it’s way to a new location. Lando lets out his hardest moan so far when he feels your boob in his hand. Carefully he moves his hand underneath your bralette. 
“Can I?” Lando asks you just to be sure. 
“Yes please,” you’re quick to reply.
That is everything it takes for Lando to start exploring your breasts. You let him know that he can use his other hand was well. He’s quick to do so. Softly he kneads your boobs. It earns him a soft moan from you. Something that only motivates him to continue his movements. He gives one of your nipples a soft pinch, it causes you to let out another moan. 
When the music ends, the two of you don’t even notice. Lando is focused on you. Your focused on Lando and his touch. It’s a loud knock on the door that brings the two back of you back to reality. You know it’s one of the security guards, who’s telling you that the time is up. 
Fuck. You think it, Lando says it. 
“Fuck,” Lando mutters. 
“It’s more for extra time,” you softly tell Lando. 
“Since when do you do extra time?” Lando asks you, referring back to his first meeting with you in which you told him that time’s up means time’s up. 
“Do you want to masturbate or do you want me to help you out?” You ask Lando. 
It’s almost unrealistic how hurried Lando gets to the door. He’s quick to open it, put some money in the worker his hands and slams it close again. Now he can only hope that he didn’t hear you wrong. 
He’s rather quick to find out that he heard you correctly. You’re dropped to your knees and sitting in front of him. When Lando was talking with the security member, you appeared to pull off your bralette. Lando can’t stop looking at your boobs. Since when is he this easily affected by only boobs? Lando almost feels ashamed for himself. He feels like a teenage boy.
You help him to undo his belt in the mean time. Lando pulls down his pants. His boxer stays on - for now he guesses. You press a soft kiss on his member through his underwear. Then you take it in your hand. His boxer doesn’t stop you from stroking his boner. Lando is quick to let out a couple moans caused by your movements. 
It’s the first time you’re doing something like this in the club. You know that other girls use this as a way to make even more money. Crazy enough, this isn’t about the money. You really want to make Lando feel good right now. 
He might have felt like a teenager before, but when Lando feels himself getting so close that he’s about to cum in his underwear - he really thinks he’s acting like one. 
“Fuck y/n,” Lando moans when his orgasm hits him. 
You can only smile proudly when you feel the wetness coming through his boxers.
the seventh time at the stripclub
You’re always happy when it’s Tuesday and you’re waiting for Lando again. After the first time you helped him getting off, things have changed between you two. You might not have kissed yet or have sex, but his dick has been in your hand and mouth a couple times now. It’s even arousing for you as for him. 
“Hey,” you greet Lando enthusiastically when you walk into the small room and see him sitting already. Lando shows you a small smile while greeting you back. His tone is less enthusiastic then normally. You wonder what’s going on. There’s barely time to figure that out. The music is already starting and you move yourself around Lando.
“You don’t have to,” Lando tells you. Confused you back out a bit and look at Lando. There’s something wrong, but you can’t figure it out. Lando does however pulls you closer towards himself and positions you on his lap. It’s nothing new that he touches you. Since the second time you danced for him, you allowed him to. 
“What’s wrong?” You eventually ask Lando. He even seems sad how longer you look at him. 
“I won’t be coming for a couple weeks,” Lando explains, “I guess three weeks?” 
“Oh?” You’re quick to match Lando his disappointed voice. Why isn’t he coming the next couple weeks? You wonder if it’s something you did. What if he’s never coming back again? 
Lando quickly notices you disappointed look. Is it bad that he kinda likes it? Not that he wants to disappoint you, but he’s glad that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t like this. Maybe he can finally state that there’s something more going on between the two of you. 
“It’s the triple header princess,” Lando explains to you, “After that I’ll be all over you again.” 
“Deal?” You jokingly ask.
“Deal.”
The music has come to end end in the mean time. You hear the last tones fade away. It means you have to leave this room, but you don’t want to. Lando doesn’t remove his hands from your body as well. You can’t look away from him. Then Lando does something unusual. He softly grabs you chin and gets your face closer to his own. 
“Can I?” Lando asks you. 
You can only nod. Then you notice Lando coming even closer. His eyes are pretty from this close. You notice all kind of stuff. If you wanted to, you could count the small freckles on his face. But Lando is quick to snatch away your attention. Softly he presses his lips onto yours. 
It feels good. Almost too good. You know that you’ve never kissed with someone like this before. Lando seems to be careful with you, something else then your used to from exes. Lando is enjoying it too. He can’t seem to pull back anymore. If it’s up to him, he stays like this for the rest of the night. And maybe longer. 
When you slowly pull back from Lando, he’s quick to send you a questioning look. “The time,” you softly whisper. Lando nods understandingly. 
“I’ll see you when I’m back,” Lando tells you.
Before you can anything, Lando adds something else.
“I promise babygirl.” 
“I already can’t wait for you to come back,” you confess. 
That causes Lando to press another soft kiss against your lips. 
the eight time at the stripclub
It’s Sunday night. Lando couldn’t stop himself. After his race he barely made time for the press and the debrief from his team. He could only focus on getting home. Or better said, getting back to you. Last three weeks have been killing him. Every time he had a moment free, he could only think about you. And not in the way your body feels on his own, or about your magical hands and mouth that make him cum as if he’s a teenage boy experiencing his first orgasm. No, he can’t stopt thinking about how he feels while he’s with you. 
Now that he thinks back at it, his friends did find the solution for his bad mood when they took him to the stripclub. They might have thought that it was because the activity, but they brought him to you. 
Lando is pretty sure about his feelings for you. He thought about telling you about them when he saw you the last time, but he didn’t dare to. Now however, he’s sure that he needs to tell you. He needs to get you away from that terrible strip club for the rest of your live, so you can be his. 
When he walks into the stripclub he’s quick to try to book you for a lapdance later tonight. It annoys him when he hears you aren’t taking those tonight. Lando is quick to wonder if you’re already booked? Fuck. He barely thinks about things like that because it makes him so upset every time. He knows you’re a stripper. Other guys have seen your body barely clothed, maybe you even gave lap dances to other guys - maybe you’re doing that right now. Lando tries to shake off the terrible thoughts. He needs you to be his.
Only his.
In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for a night as bottle girl. It isn’t your normal job. Normally you don’t even work on this day. But, because you needed a favor from your boss for upcoming Tuesday you had to do this in return. You have decided that it’s one of the last times. The favor you needed was the small room for the same amount of money Lando pays normally, but then for the whole night. It’s the last time you plan to be here. You need to tell Lando about your feelings, then you need to quit and watch how things will go.
The only reason you kept the job for this long, is because of Lando.
When you walk outside the dressing room and start to waitress for your first table, you’re quick to feel annoyed. You boss coupled you at the worst table. It’s one of the tables that has the highest price, which causes the guests to think everything is about them. 
Lando looks around and wonders if you’re even working tonight. He doesn’t know your schedule. He doesn’t even know your phone number. Why didn’t he ask for that before? He doesn’t take a seat, he keeps looking around in hope to find you. 
It doesn’t take longer then ten minutes before one of the guests from your table starts to act inappropriate. “I believe you can make those other tables wait for a moment,” the guest tells you while gesturing you to take a seat next to him. You softly sigh but give him what he wants. In no time his arm has found a place on your shoulder. It makes you uncomfortable. You want to stand up and leave again, but the guy holds you on your place.
“Maybe you can give me a lapdance princess?” The guy asks you. The nickname annoys you. It feels wrong. You start to miss Lando even more. “I’ll pay you a lot for it,” he whispers as if it’s a secret. You try to deny him, but he has already pulled you until his own lap. You squirm while trying to get away from him, but the guy only likes that more. 
Lando realizes that he has gotten in a more private area from the stripclub by now. He has never seen this part before. It seems more luxurious then the rest of the place. He guesses this is for the guys who spend a lot of money here. Not for someone like him, who’s only spending money because he fell for one of the girls. He walks around, but doesn’t suspect to find you here. 
Then he sees you. It seems like you’re sitting on some other guys lap. Lando doesn’t even notice the look of discomfort on your face at first. He can only think about getting you away from there. This will sound crazy and way too possessive, but he needs to figure out a way to get you to quit from this awful job. He needs to find a way to make you his.
One of the guys on the table is the first one who notices Lando. “Hey Lando!” He yells enthusiastically, “Come join us.”
It’s that moment that you notice Lando as well. You try to get off the lap from the guy, but he still has a firm grip on you. He doesn’t let you go. Lando notices it. He even starts to notice the uncomfortable way you’re sitting and the annoyed look on your face. He can barely withhold himself from calling you one of his typical nicknames or your own name.
“Come here,” he instructs you as polite as he can manage, “You’re forgetting about my table. Everyone is thirsty.” He is lying and he can only hope that everyone will fall for it. The guy seems distracted and you use the moment to get out of his grip. Quickly you stand up and walk towards Lando. You’re so happy with him right now that you can kiss him. 
Not that you don’t want or can’t do that any other moment.
Lando doesn’t think anymore. He feels your presence next to himself. It makes him glad. The jealousy that has builded up in his chest seems to get a bit smaller again. He does however manage to instruct you something else.
“Tell your boss that you’re quitting and then meet me at the entrance.”
You can only nod at Lando his instructions. He seems a bit mad, but you aren’t sure if he’s mad at you, those guys, your boss or someone else. His jaw is slacked and a fierce gaze is found in his eyes. He looks when you walk to your boss, he notices the way the man his face falls flat - probably because he won’t get Lando his money anymore and then he sees you turning around again. That’s his sign to get to the entrance. 
When he sees you coming towards him a bit later, Lando is quick to grab your hand. “You’re coming home with me,” he tells you. You can only nod.
the first time at Lando’s place
“Fuck,” Lando curses, “The things you’re doing to me.” His lips are dragging on your neck. The elevator ride seems to be never ending. Lando his hands are all over you. “It’s unfair how fucking beautiful you are,” Lando continues, “Need to feel every part of you.” 
You’re thankful when the elevator reaches the right floor. Lando doesn’t give you the chance to walk for yourself. He picks you up and walks with you to his own apartment. Within the first seconds that you’re inside, Lando is already walking towards his bedroom. He drops you softly on his bed and hoovers above you. 
“Lan,” you softly moan when he softly sucks on the skin by your neck. 
He moves and presses his lips on yours. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s hard, rough and shows you exactly  how much he has missed you lately. His tongue is fighting with yours for dominance, something he wins in only seconds. Lando lets out a soft groan when he releases himself from you. 
“You’re mine,” Lando grunts. He almost says sorry after saying that. An ashamed feeling starts to creep up on his chest. But when he hears a soft moan leaving your mouth, he starts to feel less nervous about his remark. “Yours,” you even tell him with a soft voice. 
“Yeah?” Lando asks you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right. In the mean time he focusses on getting you out of your clothes. Not that you’re wearing many. 
“Yes,” you confirm. 
Lando pulls you on top of himself. “I want you to dance like normally,” he instructs you, “I want to feel your naked body on mine while you do so.” You’re fast to remove his clothes as well. All your clothes have piled up on the bedroom floor. Lando lets out a soft moan while he feels you grinding on his dick. 
“Feels even better like this princess,” he moans. 
“You know,” you softly say, “I was earning a favor from my boss tonight. Had planned a whole thing for you this Tuesday.” 
“Oh?”
“Yes,” you admit, “We had the room for ourself for the whole night. After that I was planning to quit.”
“Was it a goodbye for me?” Lando asks you confused. You lower your body. Softly you grab Lando his boner. You align it with your entrance before lowering your body even more. When Lando his dick enters your cunt, you let out a hard moan. Lando moans as well, but he keeps waiting for your answer. Were you going to say bye to him? Forever?
“It was not,” you confess, “I hoped it was a hello for our new life together.”
Your words silence Lando for a bit. He has no idea what to say. You slow down with your movements. Lando keeps thinking. Does this mean what he thinks it does? You like him? You what to explore those feelings for him? 
“I like you babygirl,” Lando confesses, “I really do.”
You increase your pace. Riding on Lando his dick while confessing how much you like him too. “You’re made for me,” Lando moans while he feels close to his orgasm, “Fucking made for only me.”
In only minutes the two of you focus on the way your orgasm hit. Lando groans. You let out a self yelp. Lando shows you a small smile, you return it. 
“You do realize that you’re my girlfriend now, right?” Lando asks you jokingly. 
“Duh,” you reply with the same jokingly tone. 
Lando presses his body close against yours. In some weird way he can’t wait to tell everyone about you. He’s never leaving you again for three fucking weeks. It’s only the conversations with his friends who were here with him the first night will be a bit different. But he doesn’t care about things like that. He can’t wait to show you the world. 
Lando presses a soft kiss against your cheek. “But, you can’t forget how to dance like this,” Lando tells you, “You really need to keep doing this to me.”
“Idiot,” you laugh.
“Maybe you need to practice again?”
Lando has your on top of himself in no time again. 
a/n: a small smutty one shot for you guys :)) for now i'll focus on my mini serie 'the roommate' again, but you can always send requests xx
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k3n-dyll · 2 months
Text
☆Strawberry Crush
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Warnings...18+, wlw, loser!Ellie, fem!reader, a few reader descriptions based on the song (lipgloss, nails - nothing body/skin/hair-wise), Ellie is...kind of a stalker, honestly?, porn with a plot, submasc!Ellie, domfem!reader, Ellie is really eager and awkward, sloppy kisses, food play? (strawberry juice is involved), fingering (r!receiving), face sitting, sixty nine
Word Count:3.2k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine
Notes ☆ Kinda hate this but I've had this damn song in my head for fucking weeks and I needed to write something about it (Spotify link in title).Should have done this when my theme was red but fuck it
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Ellie's green eyes flit carelessly over the obviously bruised and beaten-up avocado in her hand, turning the bulbous fruit around over and over again as if she's truly considering buying the pitiful thing. There's a slight feeling of mushiness to it that kind of makes the hairs on her arms stand up - whatever poor fuck decides to pick this thing up once she puts it back in its crate is bound to find nothing but brown sludge on the inside.
Each turn of the overripened avocado is accompanied by a 'subtle' look around the market, her gaze fixing to the door each time the little rusted brown bell at the top of the doorframe jingles.
It'd be so embarrassing if she mixed up the time.
Not that this isn't humiliating enough already. Pathetic, even. No one in their right mind drives thirty minutes from home to look this hard, and for this long at an avocado.
On about the fifth bell ring in three minutes she can feel herself getting impatient. Today was Monday, Ellie was sure of that - the farmers from downtown had surely brought freshly picked batches of fruit and vegetables already unless something had gone awry. Maybe she should just head home and stop acting like a fucking crazy person. It's not like the average person keeps on schedule to a T every week. And even if they did, it's worrying that Ellie even knows that schedule. At least this part of it anyway.
Ellie juggles with the thought for a moment but ultimately decides to leave, placing the unfortunate-looking avocado back in its crate. It's just then when that annoying little bell dings again. She knows she shouldn't get her hopes up and yet she can't seem to help herself, looking toward the farmers market entrance to discern who it was that triggered the movement of the brass bell.
The thought that she was just about to leave makes Ellie's stomach turn. She'd have missed you completely. But just like clockwork, every Monday morning, you're here. And just like clockwork, every Monday morning, she gets to see you.
Ellie has given herself every excuse as to why her little habit isn't creepy. She's just trying to hype herself up to actually talk to you, and somehow during that time she also managed to figure out the exact schedule for when fresh produce is brought to this specific market so that she could catch you every Monday doing what you usually do. Buying strawberries.
You like those a lot.
Or, Ellie assumes you do. Why else would you buy them so religiously? Every Monday you come to buy strawberries. Various other things as well but she's noticed you take your time with the berries in particular - inspecting the fruit in each little green basket for at least a few minutes before finding one or two little baskets to buy and take home with you.
Ellie's practiced how to approach you in the mirror in her apartment before leaving the house more times than she'd like to admit, cringing at every little stutter and awkward phrase.
"You come here often?" No. Who the fuck even says that in real life? "So you like strawberries?" Well, duh.
It looks so simple in shows. Her friends make it look like nothing. Then there's Ellie. Reciting cliche lines from movies.
Not that any of that really matters though. Normally by the time you've gone up to check out your items, Ellie has already managed to convince herself that she lost her chance.
Maybe next time
Next time, for sure. But definitely not this time, no. This time she's too distracted by how delicious you look; the sway of your hips, the pretty smile you flash to the staff, the glittery pink tinted gloss spread carefully across your lips.
Your nails are red today, coming to a rounded point.
Ellie's tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as her mind wanders. Those nails would make such pretty streaks in her back.
For some reason, the thought that she may be shamelessly staring at you doesn't cross her mind. Until it's too late that is. Ellie's eyes widen in absolute terror when your gaze catches hers, face dropping back to the crate of avocados she'd been pretending to look through a moment ago.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She definitely can't approach you today. Not after you'd caught her staring - no - gawking at you so blatantly. In fact, getting out of this godforsaken market has shot to the very top of her priority list, a task she seeks to accomplish quickly, with her head downcast in shame and embarrassment.
It's just her luck that instead of effectively making it out of the door she stumbles over the dragging, unraveled white laces of the run-down sneakers on her feet, toppling to the floor if not for the similarly misfortuned person she winds up tackling.
"Shit! Sorry, sorry, I-I'm so sorry" she stutters out, cringing at the sight of once unbruised red fruit hitting the hard tile of the market floor. Her eyes meet yours and again she's frozen and embarrassed, a deep shade of red splaying her freckled cheeks and tips of her ears. You would be angry if it weren't for how cute she looked. You sigh.
"It's fine, really. Just...make sure you look forward next time you're walking, okay?" The soft, reassuring smile you offer her as you speak damn near melts her where she stands.
"Right."
There's a beat of awkward silence, Ellie nervousely tugging at her ring and pinky fingers as she gives you a small hesitant nod. "I should-"
"Maybe you could help me pick out some new ones?" You ask quickly, interrupting her, gesturing to the strawberry littered tile.
It's the first time she's spoken to you and given her clear anxiety, she likely wouldn't end up speaking to you on her own again. Ellie nods quickly, mouth slightly agape, though at this point she's lost all of her words. She simply picks up the dropped berries, some of which are now a little flattened and soft on one side from the impact, standing straight once they're all gathered to help you get new baskets.
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"You okay?" You ask, as Ellie hasn't said much of anything in the past few minutes.
"Oh, yeah...sorry just...a lot on my mind" she murmurs, quieting back down again as she attentively unpacks your produce.
She doesn't even know how she wriggled her way into this situation. She'd thought for sure you'd call her a freak or a psycho when you let her know you were aware of her little routine. Instead, you just suggested that she help you with the rest of your groceries.
"It's a bit of a hassle trying to bring them up to my apartment alone. Plus...you kinda owe me for the tackle, yeah?"
You had feared the boldness of your invitation may give her pause but Ellie agreed without reluctance.
"A lot on your mind? Like what?"
"Like...how you don't seem unnerved about...y'know." Ellie murmurs, leaning up against your kitchen counter, the little giggle you give in response sending her heart rate up.
"I was honestly just waiting to see if you would actually come speak to me"
"Wait, really?"
You turn to her from where you were organizing things in your fridge, a small bowl of freshly washed strawberries in hand. You set it down, gently sliding the bowl out toward Ellie as an invitation to take one, which she accepts, twisting at the leaves until they come off of the top before biting into it. It's quite large, and very sweet she notices, a bit of juice dribbling down her chin as her teeth sink in, her hand clumsily going to guard any more from falling down.
"Yeah." you answer, to which Ellie raises a questioning eyebrow.
"You're cute, Ellie." you clarify, playfully rolling your eyes at her obliviousness. " And messy"
Before she realizes it, you're in front of her, holding a napkin to her now berry juice-stained chin and neck, readying yourself to pat her dry. Your lips are incredibly close, dangerously so, but she does her best to ignore it, popping the rest of strawberry into her mouth before gently taking your hand in hers to stop you.
"I can- "
"Just let me, okay?" You chuckle a bit, shaking your head. "You really don't know when a girl is trying to flirt with you, huh?"
Ellie blinks, staring at you as if you've just said something ridiculous, her fruit filled cheek almost making her look like a chipmunk in the moment. The insistence on cleaning her up, the invitation to your apartment in the first place, the fact that you don't even seem to question her infatuation with you. It all makes sense now. And she'd taken way too long to notice.
There isn't a thought process behind Ellie's actions this time, just impulse as she leans forward, closing the distance between you both and crashing her lips onto yours. A shiver of shock runs through her as you reciprocate, regardless of how unideal the kiss may seem - cold, sticky fruit juice now being shared between the both of you, creating a thin coat of strawberry and saliva on your connected lips flowing down your chins and slowly making its way to the collars of your shirts.
Ellie pulls back enough to actually swallow what's left of the strawberry and breathe out a quick "I'm sorry", though a part of her is too fascinated by the look of you with transparent red fluid trailing along your skin to be genuinely apologetic.
"I don't mind a little mess." You whisper in response, swiping your thumb along her chin to collect some of the juic. Something about the girl being so desperate to kiss you that she was unconcerned about the inevitable messy nature of said kiss put butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You keep her pressed up against your kitchen counter as you allow yourself to give in to your desires, only dethatching your kiss-swollen lips from Ellie's to press opened mouth kisses along the column of her throat, licking at the sweet red liquid that's almost managed to make its way into the loose, black wifepleaser she's wearing.
"Y-you don't think this is happening too fast?" she questions, despite her clear willingness to let you do as you please, her words coming out between heavy breaths, her entire face painted a rosy shade of pink.
"Would you like me to stop?" You ask, eyebrow quirked upward as you halt your advances and look at her.
Ellie shakes her head immediately at that, tightening her grip around your waist. She can't help but think that was an idiotic question for her to ask anyways. This is finally her chance, and she refuses to fuck up by overthinking everything as she has been up until this point. Your lips connect again with no second guesses this time, Ellie taking her opportunity to slip her hands underneath your top, pulling it over your head. Her mouth takes to your skin, sloppily lapping at the strawberry juice flowing along your neck and pulling your bra straps down enough to expose your breasts.
"Fuck, Ellie"
You slip your leg between her thighs while she's occupied with "cleaning you up" with her tongue, reveling at the way she whimpers and attempts to resist the urge to roll her hips when your knee makes contact with her clothed cunt. Her attempts prove futile, of course, the poor girl huffing and moaning against your skin as she grinds herself against your leg.
"So fuckin' needy, weren't you?" You tease, unable to help the amused laugh that escapes you at the sight of the girl humping desperately at your knee.
All Ellie manages in response is a nod, whining even louder when you press against her harder, the seam of her shorts pushing up against her clit at the right angle, her movements becoming faster and more erratic.
"G'na make me cu- fuck fuck" Ellie's muscles tense for a moment before releasing again, short, ragged breaths and muffled grunts punctuating her last few thrusts against your leg as she finishes in her boxers. Embarrassed, she buries her face into the crook of your neck, her already blushed face becoming redder at her unintended quickness.
"Shit...sorry" She murmurs against your skin, not sure if she should even look you in the eye right now.
You stifle a giggle and shake your head, running your fingers through her soft, auburn hair as a means to reassure her before lacing your fingers with hers. With your free hand, you lift her chin so that she looks at you.
"It's okay. Doesn't mean I'm finished with you."
The softness of your tone seems to soothe her, though the bashfulness still lingers on her features, green eyes casting downward regardless of your words. You press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, and, fingers still intertwined, lightly tug her away from the kitchen counter on her wobbly legs over to the loveseat in your living room.
You lightly jerk your head in the direction of the sofa, letting go of her hand once she's seated. "Lay down for me baby"
Ellie, in all of her eagerness doesn't so much as hesitate, laying back onto the soft cushions, reaching out as if to pull you down with her. Instead of straddling her like she'd wanted you to though, you stay standing, a mischvieous giggle escaping as you lean down to kiss her on the lips once more before pulling back.
"What's wrong?" She asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Nothing El. Just relax, yeah?" You murmur in response, hands now focused on slipping off your shorts. That's answer enough for her, Ellie's eyes widening a little bit as they fixate on watching your lower body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as you pull off your shorts and panties in one go. You were soaked, and you make sure to let her know it, teasingly trailing a finger through your folds before pressing it to her lips, Ellie gladly sucking the digit into her mouth without instruction.
"Aw, look at that, I didn't even have to ask"
Ellie just nods, pink lips still caught around your finger. She's well aware of how pathetic she looks right now, but she can't bring herself to care at this point as she's too busy savoring the taste of you on her tongue, eyes damn near rolling to the back of her head off that alone. When you take your finger out of her mouth she whines.
"Wanna taste you more... please"
Her pleading pulls a chuckle from your throat, your finger gently running across her bottom lip as you speak.
"God, you're so impatient, baby. Does my sweet girl want my pussy in her mouth, hm?"
She nods vigorously, grabbing at your hand again to pull you toward her. This time, you oblige, allowing the girl to guide you to sit on her face, her slender hands catching around your hips. She licks a bold stripe along your slit before pressing a kiss to your clit, the amount of times she's thought about doing that exact thing noe finally coming into practice.
Ellie eats at you like a woman starved, lapping up every drop of your arousal, her lips latching around your swollen clit and sucking at it. The sloppy, wet noises coming from her mouth on your cunt, the muffled moaning and whining escaping her - it's obnoxious. But it's the sexiest thing you've seen ina while, her gaze never leaving you as she buries herself closer to you. "This what you wanted, isn't it baby? Spent so much time watching me 'n all you could think about - fuck - was having that pretty mouth pressed up against my cunt like this?"
Your teasing is condescening, your hand tangling into her short locks, forcing her head nice and close as you rut yourself against her tongue. The poor thing can't stop herself from squirming, pressing her thighs together, and for a moment, even detatching a hand from your thigh and snaking it down her own body to slip her hand into her shorts. You don't notice it at first, but when you do, it's clear to her you aren't having it.
"Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl." You lift up into a hover above her head, reaching back and wrapping your hand around her wrist to stop her. She whines again, her frustration obvious in the line that forms between her brows. "You wanna ask this time?"
"S-sorry, you're just so fucking sexy, I need you to touch me, please"
You have half a mind to make her wait longer. To pin her hands over her head and prop yourself back onto her mouth, but an idea comes to mind that you can't just ignore. You giggle, giving her a simple 'okay' and before she knows it you've shifted on top of her, settling yourself into a hover over her face again, but this time facing the opposite direction. She can't see what your doing, but she feels it when you start sliding her shorts and boxers down before leaning down and spitting on her already glistening cunt.
"Oh my fucking god..."
Ellie's thighs are shaking around your head already, her hands gripping at the fat of your ass as she pulls you back down onto her mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure fill the apartment, the vibrations from her moans against you only serving to drive you insane. A thin layer of sweat coats your bodies as you chase a simultaneous orgasm, hips bucking and rolling against each others tongues with primal urgency as that familiar coil tightens within your lower stomachs.
"Fuckfuckfuck- coming, I'm coming" Ellie's mouth detatches from you as she's the first to go, her trembling legs clamping around your head and trapping you against her. She's shockingly quick to replace her mouth with her fingers, slipping them inside of you without warning. She's almost as despereate to have you cum on her face as she was to cum herself, and to her luck, you unravel above her soon after. Her mouth comes back to you are you finish, lapping up every single drop of cum you give her, fingers still lazily pumping in and out of your dripping hole.
It takes a bit to float back down to reality, your head resting limp on her thigh as you slowly start to catch your breath, twitching and shaking too much to actually move on your own. Ellie's not much better, her head plopped down onto the couch cushion, gently kneading your ass with her hands and pressing sleepy kisses to your inner thighs. When you're finally able to move, it's not much, only adjusting yourself enough so that your faces are level, nuzzling your body close so that you can both lay next to each other on the couch. There's a peacful silence between the both of you for a while, your foggy brains still processing how far you'd gotten with one another in the span of a few hours.
"So...you really like me then? Like actually?" Ellie breathes out, a hand lightly rubbing along your side.
You laugh and give her a playful punch to the arm, the fact that she even felt the need to ask that almost comical to you after everything.
"Ow! What was that for?" She asks, feigning as if the light hit actually hurt.
"Of course I like you, dummy" You murmur, kissing her cheek. "I've liked you the whole time"
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Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,
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acidinduceddaydreams · 3 months
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First Real Love with Skz
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Skz x reader who was in a toxic relationship before them
Synopsis: In which you experience love, the real kind, for the first time.
Warnings: major tw for trauma in terms of mental and physical violence done by a significant other. Please don’t read if this triggers you.
a/n : this fic was my baby for a long time. Now it’s yours, please look after it. I pray it brings some comfort to you!🫶🏼
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Chan:
He feels honored that you choose him to be apart of your life.
Doesn’t pry too much when you bring up your past. If you want to tell him you will and he’s content with that.
He finds you so incredibly intoxicating. He can’t believe that someone would ever treat you badly. He would fight tooth and nail to make sure you’re always happy.
Literally so in love with your more childlike/ whimsical view of the world now that you two are together. Your personality definitely changed for the better once you met him and realized that being safe should be a prerequisite in a relationship.
Minho:
Doesn’t ask about your past relationship much. Mostly relies on you telling him about it when you feel comfortable enough.
Absolutely at your service!!! If you’re having particularly unpleasant or difficult feelings or are in your own head he’s at your beck and call. Whether that’s cooking for you, feeding you (which you won’t admit you like) or even leaving you alone for a bit.
The babies (his cats) are by your side 24/7 to ground you and get you out of your head because “ they wouldn’t want their mom to be sad.”
Changbin:
Cannot fathom the idea of someone hurting you in any way whatsoever without wanting to beat them up.
Unlike Minho, Changbin will not leave you alone if you’re having a particularly bad day. He thinks you’re so precious so he will never leave your side even in a particularly bad situation.
Binnie gives the best cuddles!!!! I am 100% convinced. Cuddling is a must! It’s like free therapy. (He, himself is free therapy but wbk) his hugs and cuddles make you forget about what’s going on in your head bc binnie’s cuddles make everything better.
Hyunjin:
He’s appalled that someone could treat another human with disrespect and violence let alone you!
He’s your number one fan in everything you do. Celebrates your small wins just as grandly as the big ones. Oh you ate breakfast today. Suddenly your name and “I’m so proud of you” is all he knows how to say.
Paints with you. Yk when you put the canvases parallel to each other and paint something for the other person. Yeah you guys do that all the time as a grounding technique but also just as a way to show love to one another.
Jisung:
He’s so good at reading body language!!!!!! He is absolutely crushed when things like holding your hand or stretching his hand out to touch your cheek make you flinch, not because he’s mad or angry at you but rather at the person who ever dared to treat you this way.
Wdym personal space? Hannie’s never heard of it. He’s so good at getting you out of you head. He knows what triggers you and sometimes know when something will trigger you before you do.
He’s so attentive bc why wouldn’t he be when he has you to look after. This boy loves you so much and he shows it every day.
Felix:
Bakes for you!!!!!! Sometimes you two bake together but he usually does it in advance to you telling him you need a little extra love today.
So in love with you. Tries to show you the beauty that you are because you haven’t felt beautiful till you met him. “Oh baby you look even more gorgeous than you did yesterday, I didn’t even know that was possible.”
You remind him of sunshine and he reminds you of the sun. Clearly neither of you can exist without the other.
Seungmin:
He is super playful and witty naturally but he tones down the more mocking side for your particularly hard days. He loves you in ways that you didn’t know you could be loved.
On regular days though you two share a similar sense of humor. He loves that about you. Never lets it go too far though.
Absolutely a sucker for you. The boys tease him for being soft for you but he doesn’t care. You’re his baby and he doesn’t care who sees that.
Jeongin:
This boy is so whipped for you. He always listens to you even if what you have to say is something he has no idea about. It feels so amazing to have someone listen to you. To truly listen. He makes it look easy even though listening and not interrupting is quite hard.
He’s not a big fan of skinship but your hands are always within his and he loves it. He’s genuinely so feral for it but you don’t need to know that.
He’ll make sure to show you how someone treats someone they love every day. He’s so attentive and that makes going to him whether it’s with a problem or just to talk so easy because you know there’s no judgment from him.
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ilsanslut · 10 months
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TREAT YOU BETTER! [2]
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♰ featuring: itoshi sae + itoshi rin [blue lock]
♰ note: do i even need to mention how anticipated this part was? i will mention though, that it did take me quite some time to write this and i tried to proofread it to the best of my ability, but i do apologize if there are some minor errors. lastly, sorry for putting it off for so long due to my hiatus, i hope you all enjoy!
sypnosis: the itoshi brothers punish you for your 'infidelity'. wc: 6.5k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. fem/fem-bodied reader. POST BLUE LOCK. rin is 19. sae is 21. sibling rivalry. implied thick/chubby!reader. EXTRA MEAN!RIN. possessive!rin. cocky!sae. bully!itoshi brothers. they are both assholes in this fic. PRIOR MENTIONS OF CHEATING. degradation. unprotected sex. fingering. squirting. rough sex. DUBIOUS CONTENT. spanking. dacryphilia. slut-shaming. groping. double-penetration. implied size kink. skull/throat-fucking. choking/borderline asphyxiation. minor angst. hair pulling. manhandling. breeding. excessive mentions of drool/spit + rin's focused mode. IMPACT PLAY (face slapping, tit slapping, cock/pussy slapping). basically, they really fuck you up but they swear it’s out of love. aftercare! ꒷꒦
view part one of TREAT YOU BETTER here: part one.
If purgatory was real, you were most certainly in it now. Penalized for your past life's sins and transgressions, you were chained and perched atop a platform before your accusers, between the heavens and the depths of hell. Except now, that platform was Rin’s bed, and the only eyes upon you were his and Sae’s—the latter of which continued to bore into your own as the rhythmic slapping of his hips against your ass refused to cease. And even now, there was that sickening twinkle in his eyes, full of sinister joy as he basked in the warped satisfaction of your psychological suffering. How lovely he found you, those plump tears streaming down your ruined cheeks—if he could, he would frame that photo for his foyer. How your plump brims continued to babble out pleas for him to stop, for him to slow down, to please let you catch your breath so that you could process the situation you found yourself in, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. Not until you creamed around his cock in front of your pretty lil’ boyfriend, that is.
While you, on the other hand, were currently battling the inner turmoil the two demonic brothers were putting you through. In your head, Rin’s word’s played on a loop like a broken record, plagued to repeat that same damned phrase over and over again. ‘You told me you would wait, Nii-chan.’
They plotted against you, laid out the trap, and like the oblivious bunny you are, you stumbled right into the wolf’s den.
“Y’see this, Rinnie~?” Sae drawled breathlessly, using his free hand that wasn’t holding your hair to cup your jaw, manipulating your head in his sibling’s direction while he placed his chin atop your shoulder. Forced to once again meet the eyes of your lover, you would immediately notice the contemptuous and repulsed glare he used to stab into you like a searing, hot iron blade straight into your heart. But you could never miss the desire beneath his teal eyes—desire that almost turned his current enmity for you into lust. Should you venture to cast your eyes any lower, you would also observe the brewing tent inside his sweatpants, pushing the fabric to its absolute limit.
“What d’you think is making poor Y/N cry like this, hm? The fact that she’s been caught in her infidelity or this fat cock pummeling her tight cunt?” You could feel Sae’s wolfish grin against your flesh as he spoke, dragging sharp canines across the skin of your shoulder as his own teal oculars met his brother’s.
“Both.” Rin stated bluntly before his expression would twist sourly, his upper lip curling into a sneer while his eyes narrowed on you with malicious intent. “Though if I were to guess, I bet it’s your cock since she’s a little cockslut who can’t be satisfied with just one man’s dick.” He spat as he reached his hand up to undo the zipper on his windbreaker, pulling it down slowly to reveal his equally, if not more, built form than Sae’s.
“Oh~” Sae jeered much to your chagrin, slowing the pace of his hips so he could press himself flush against your ass and languidly hump his cock into you. Unfortunately, you were unable to keep your delighted mewls from slipping past your brims as his thick cock caressed your fluttering walls. “Y’hear that, princess? Even your boyfriend thinks that you’re a cock-addicted whore.” He used his grip on your hair and chin to mockingly shake your head back and forth, feigning pity in his tone to add more fuel to your smoldering fire.
He leaned into your ear, soft lips pressing right against your lobe as his teeth captured the soft flesh between his teeth, snarling lowly. “How d’you think he’d feel knowing that you were about to make a mess on my cock, huh?”
Amidst your whimpers and pleasured mewls, you frantically shook your head, trying your hardest to deny the accusation as Rin’s fixed glare on you only grew more scrutinizing. “M’not, m’not gonna—!” On the contrary, your body would deny your vehement retorts made prevalent by your quivering thighs, heightened moans, and the sinful way your walls clung to Sae's cock.
“Don’t fucking lie to me” Sae hissed in your ear, releasing his grip on your chin to quickly swat the fattened flesh of your breast, drawing a squeal from your lips. “Y’don’t think I can’t feel this greedy cunt sucking me in? Trying to milk me of everything I have, huh?”
“N-No! Ngh~! Sae, I-I can’t—”
Your cries were silenced when an opposing hand would soon grip your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the second set of teal eyes belonging to none other than Rin. He glowered down at you, his blunt nails digging into the soft flesh of your cheeks. Even with your strong reluctance to acknowledge it, Rin's intense gaze was enough to make you clamp harder around Sae.
“Cum on his cock, Y/N.” He ordered, his voice barely above a twisted growl. “It’s the only thing pretty sluts like you are good at, right?” His grip loosened for naught but a second to drag the pad of his thumb across your drooling and babbling brims. “Unless, you’re not . . . care to try and prove me wrong?”
You tried—you really, really tried—to hold back your orgasm, to prove Rin wrong, but the tantalizing way Sae pounded his length into you was intoxicating—tainting your mind with one need and one need only—your release. Your fists pounded against Sae's thighs behind you, trying to get midfeilder off of you, or at the very least to slow down—but it was futile. Your back rumbled from the vibrations in Sae's chest as he chuckled, his forearm caging itself around your neck and the crease of his other forearm pulling back his balled fist to effectively lock you in an unforgiving headlock, depriving your brain of precious oxygen. With your resolve all but diminished, you finally came undone before both your boyfriend and his elder brother.
All you could see was white as your vision blurred and your body seized as the coil in your tummy snapped, allowing your juices to flow out of you, fruitfully drenching both your and Sae's lower halves as well as the sheets beneath you. Your cries and pleas of euphoria filled the room, drowning out the lewd and now wet smacking sounds of Sae's pelvis against your ass, as well as he and his brother's mocking jeers. Without both of their grips on your body, you would have collapsed from the sheer intensity of it all, your body going limp as the ferocity of your orgasm nearly knocked you unconscious.
“Fuck yeah,” Sae groaned into your ear, though you were barely able to register it as he fucked you through your orgasm. “That’s it; that’s the stuff. Ngh, fuck. M’gonna cum too, gonna fill your pretty pussy to the brim.” He grunted as his thrusts grew sloppy from his impending orgasm.
But it never came. At least, not in the way you expected it.
At the last second before Sae finally came inside of you, your body cruelly hit the sheets as you were no longer supported by the strength of both men. On top of that, you suddenly felt horribly empty as the midfielder’s cock was wrenched out of you, leaving you to clench around nothing—though you were hardly in any state to utter a rebuttal.
In your daze, you heard the sounds of a struggle and Sae's enraged shout as you writhed between the sheets and something hot shot against your ass cheeks and lower back. Groggily, you mustered enough strength to push yourself up onto your elbows to glance over your shoulder, only to see a fucked-out and infuriated Sae forced back onto his haunches as Rin held his light auburn locks in a vice grip, equally, if not more, irate than his elder.
“What the fuck, Nii-chan.” Rin snarled, tugging Sae by his locks as if to enunciate his anger. “I thought we agreed that you weren’t allowed to cum inside of her, so what the fuck was that, huh?”
At first, Sae remained silent and merely opted to match Rin's glower with a quiet one of his own. Your weary eyes slid down, taking in his semi-hard cock that rested against his toned thighs, strings of yours and his arousal clinging to his girth, the thick lifts and falls of his chest, and the sweat trickling down his abs. Then your eyes shifted to Rin, where you noted the hardness of his angrily-clenched jaw, the furious downward pull of his thick brows over his captivating teal eyes, blazing with anger and betrayal, and the undeniable bulge that tugged at the material of his sweatpants.
The way your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight was unavoidable.
They were both too fucking hot for your own good.
“It’s not my fault that her greedy fuckhole wouldn’t let me go.” Sae snapped, smacking Rin’s fist from his locks. “And besides. . .” Something sinister arose on his features, tainting his expression with the need to torment the forward. “You heard her, didn’t you? She likes the way my cock fucks her more than yours anyway.”
You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed after Sae’s bombshell of a statement. As you lay there, your heart raced, and a sense of unease washed over you, causing a pit of guilt to form in the pits of your tummy. Rin said nothing in response, staggering back from his brother with an incredulous and infuriated look before his face twisted into a maddened snarl, which Sae countered with a smug look. Had you looked even further, you could see the aura of their monstrous egos swirling around them, threatening to rip one another limb from limb.
“You motherfucker.” He growled, fists clenching with pure unadulterated rage as he lunged for his sibling yet again, only this time, you stepped in.
“Rin, stop!” You shouted, lunging forward to grab your boyfriend’s wrist before he could get his hands on Sae once more.
Rin's focus finally shifted to you, his eyes wide as clarity dawned on him for a moment, before the disdain and anger he felt for you at the time zeroed in on your form, immobilizing you where you kneeled. His fury was like a searing wave. It washed over you in that instant, and it was so intense that it made your knees weaken and your heart race. You’d seen him look at others like this before, but never directed at you before. His opponents, Isagi Yoichi, Shidou Ryusei, and even Sae on occasions, sure, but you? Never before in your life.
“You.” His tone was gutteral and animalistic, unlike anything you’d ever heard from Rin before.
Sae took advantage of the situation at that precise moment to slide off the mattress and out of dodge, but not before giving you a knowing wink and a sly look. Rin didn’t even seem to react to this. In fact, now that Sae was out of the picture, his arm dropped to his side, and you became the new target of his wrath.
It was as though you were peering into the eyes of a savage beast—of a starving lion who had finally cornered a gazelle who continuously fled and eluded the beast from her fate. Before you could react, Rin’s hands were on you, a strong hand wrapped around your neck to lift you from your haunches and into a proper kneeling position so that he could glower at you at eye level.
“Don’t you think for a second, Y/N, that you’re innocent in all of this.” He was seething, hissing through clenched teeth as you could feel his breath wafting over your frightened visage. “You know, the only reason that I returned home early from my jog was because Nii-chan told me that he had just arrived home? Do you know that it only took me ten minutes to come back after that?” You could feel his grip trembling in your veins, like he was holding himself back from lashing out at you further. "You mean to tell me that it only took him 600 seconds to strip you down and fuck you stupid on his cock in the mere minutes that he was here, huh? For you to forget your loyalty and love for me in only 10 minutes, Y/N?"
Tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to spill streamed down your cheeks. Your heart ached with the knowledge that your actions had shattered trust and betrayed the trust of someone who had placed faith in you. In the midst of your tears, you struggled to find the right words to express the depths of your remorse. You wanted to take back your choices and undo the damage you had done, but you knew that you couldn't erase the past. It was far too late for that.
“But you know what,” Rin continued, his grip on your throat as well as his expression softening. “I’m not mad.” He whispered, his voice suddenly sincere. His hand left your neck entirely in favor of stroking your hair lovingly with his other caressing your cheek, a stark contrast to the unbridled wrath he had displayed toward you only moments before.
You blinked, dumbfounded. But you could not help but lean into his tenderness and crave his affection after such a strenuous situation, especially when he offered such gentle touches and words.
“Y-You’re not?” You whispered, your voice hopeful, as tears welded up in your eyes for a different reason now—out of joy.
Rin shook his head with the faintest of smiles on his face. “I’m not . . .” His tone remained soft, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead that you found yourself falling into. Almost immediately, you were melting into him, graceful for your boyfriend’s compassion.
“I’m furious.”
In an instant, a switch had flipped, and once again, Rin turned the tables on you. Before you could respond, his fist became unbearably tight at the crown of your hair, pulling mercilessly at the roots before he tugged your gaze to meet his, ablaze with fury. Now, it was your turn to look betrayed as your pretty eyes widened with both incredulity and fear as you gaped at your lover and the sinister look in his eye.
“But don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll feel much, much better after I blow some steam off by using your pretty body.”
You could barely manage a squeal as you were soon manhandled atop Rin's bed until you were lying on your back with your head hanging over the edge. Your vision turned upside down, and you craned your neck to look up at Rin, who was busy ridding himself of his sweatpants and boxers until he was finally able to tug free his painfully hard cock right above your face. Your mouth watered at the sight of your lover’s well-endowed length at its full mast, thick, hot, and sweltering with a vein bulging along its otherwise smooth underside. His blushed tip drooled with pre, which he used to lube his hand as he pumped himself above you, unable to keep his gaze from wandering over your lewd, plump, and womanly body.
“Fuck,” He swore as he tossed his head back, allowing you to watch as his balls clenched and length twitched from the wave of pleasure that overcame him.
You noticed movement in the space between Rin's muscular thighs as you watched Sae sit in Rin's desk chair behind him, one arm resting on the arm rest while the other languidly stroked his semi-hard cock and one leg resting atop the other at the ankle. When he caught your gaze, he shot you a wolfish smirk, using your slick to roll his thumb around his reddened tip.
“Don’t look at me, princess. Look at your pretty boyfriend.”
At his command, your gaze rose, only to see Rin using his thumb to spread your lips and guide his cock into the warmth of your mouth. As you took inch by inch into your throat, you could hear your lover groaning above you, swearing something about you swallowing him down like it was nothing. Though it really wouldn’t be a punishment if he made things easy for you, would it?
Soon, he reached the hilt of your throat, and his balls were firmly nestled against your nose, allowing you to inhale his salty yet pleasant musk. Both of his large palms reached down to grab the sides of your head before his hips began to thrust himself in and out of your tight cavern, gradually picking up his pace until he was pistoning in and out of you without mercy. You spluttered and gagged, your eyes squeezing shut as you focused on breathing through your nose when you could as his balls pummeled relentlessly into your nose, making sure to smother you with his heavy orbs each time.
“Hngh, shit, Y/N!” Rin swore, his eyes torn between fixating on the sinful bounce of your large breasts from his unrelenting thrusts or the way his girth bulged your throat every time he bottomed out inside of you. “Taking this dick like it’s nothing, huh?” Rin hissed through clenched teeth as he grabbed both of your breasts in his palms and delivered merciless squeezes. “This is what sluts like you were made for, hm? Swallowing down cocks with no efforts, draining them of every last drop?” He paused, tossing his head back to groan as his balls churned beneath him. He had been pent up for so long that he knew he wouldn’t last any longer. “Never content with just one man’s dick inside of you, always craving more . . Fuck~!"
As 'effortlessly' as he described you accepting his length and brutish treatment, you still needed to breathe, which was proving to be an impossible task as his thrusts became more animalistic and sloppy. The harsh sounds of his tip bullying the end of your throat resonated off of the room, the wet “glrk, glrk, glrks” filling your ears and making your cheeks burn at the vulgarity of it all. Your hands reached up to his muscular thighs, seeking purchase from his lethal thrusts, only to have both of your wrists seized in one large hand and pinned atop your breasts. His other hand went to your nose and tightly pinched it, effectively stopping your only source of life—breathing—and adding to his savagery. The distinct pleasure moans he once emitted had devolved into almost feral snarls and grunts, as if you were being ravaged by a beast rather than your typically stoic boyfriend.
“Take it, fuckin’ take it.” He spat as his hips stuttered. Then, without warning, he pressed himself against your face, the base of his cock hilting at your lips as his balls smushed flush against your nose, further deepening your struggle to breathe. You soon found yourself preoccupied with not choking as Rin's hot, steaming cum shot down your throat, forcing you to swallow it all down. That did not stop you from flailing beneath Rin, though, and he effortlessly wrangled you down and made you take rope after rope of his seed into your spasming throat.
You whined aloud, attempting to yell out to him that if he didn’t let up, you were about to pass out, but it was clear that he didn’t give a damn if you remained conscious or not. That is, until a few more agonizing seconds passed and black spots started to obscure your vision when Rin freed himself from your throat, his semi-hard shaft hanging over your face with strings of your saliva and his seed still clinging to his length.
You gasped for air, greedily gulping down sweet, sweet breaths of pure oxygen, and your lungs were more than thankful for the reprieve. Despite your blood pumping furiously in your ears, you could still make out the sound of a chuckle from behind Rin, belonging to none other than Sae.
“Damn, Rinnie. I thought you were going to kill her.” He snickered, still lazily stroking at his dick, which twitched in his palm when your eyes met yet again.
But there was no use concentrating on him, because Rin retreated a few steps and blocked your view once more. Looking up at him with your thoroughly ruined visage, you nearly gasped at the untamed lust swimming within his eyes. It was the same expression he would have when his ego took over on the field—hungry and damn near starving.
“Not yet.”
You felt rough hands grabbing at your body again, tossing you about as though you were a ragdoll, until you found yourself in an all-too-familiar position on your hands and knees. Those same hands seized at your plump hips and snatched you back until your ankles hung off of the bed, forcing a squeal to rip from your lips. Your hips jumped as Rin's blunt cock tip touched your clit, and your toes curled as he gave you several sharp smacks of his cock to your cunt.
“R-Rinnie.” You whimpered, casting a sidelong glance at him, your mouth slightly open in defiance of his actions, pleading for a break, if only to catch your breath before he pummeled you until you couldn’t see straight. However, your voice was cut short when you felt his hands seize a handful of your hair and tug at your head until your back was hard against his chest.
“Sluts don’t talk, Y/N.” He spat against your cheek. “They moan, get their pussies used, their throats fucked, and only say, 'Yes, sir, give me more.’ Do you understand me?”
You nodded silently, knowing that trying to talk sense into his head when he was acting this way was a fruitless endeavor.
“Good girl.” His lips brushed against your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it’s begging me for me, understood?”
With the knowledge that answering out loud would be foolish, you nodded once more, suppressing a startled cry as he quickly brought you back down into his sheets, pressing your back into an almost painful arch with his hand planted firmly on your head. Rin seized his cock and sank it inch by inch into your tight cunt, evoking deep, guttural keens from you both without saying another word. He gave you a breathy, arousing laugh that curled your toes. He couldn’t believe that after all of this, your pretty pussy still proceeded to greedily suckle his cock as though it just couldn’t get enough.
He gave you no time to respond before he launched into his ferocious pace, pouring all of his anger, contempt, and hatred toward you into your abused hole in a way that left you feeling nothing but pure euphoria. Shouts and high-pitched cries of pleasure tore from your throat against your better judgment, partially muffled by the sheets he forced your head into. Your head was spinning, and your thoughts were focused only on how deliciously Rin pounded into you. His cock's mouth-watering curve made your thighs tremble and your knees weaken beneath you as he relentlessly pounded into your sweet spot. Observing your shaking limbs, Rin steadied your hips with both of his hands, using his improved grip to thrust more deliberately into your cunt, his thick girth bottoming out inside of you each time.
“Look a’that” Rin drawled breathlessly amidst the rhythmic clapping of his pelvis against your ass, the vulgar bouncing off of the walls. “My dick is so good you just can’t shut the fuck up, huh?”
“Ah, yes, yes, God, yes, Rin~!” You babbled, unable to stop the tears of ecstasy that squeezed from your pretty eyes.
“—But you love Nii-chan’s dick more than mine, right?”
Suddenly his ferocious pace turned into lackadaisical humps, ruining what immense pleasure had been building up within you and corrupting your mind with the need for more. You whined, one partially in desperation and the other in frustration. You moved your hips, trying to fuck yourself on Rin's cock, while craning your neck to get a better look at your boyfriend. Rin was no idiot, though. Having already sensed your intentions, his grip steeled on your hips, preventing you from moving further, much to your vexation.
“Ah, ah, Y/N.” Rin chided, the faintest hint of a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips with his eyes narrowed in amusement. He firmly pressed your ass against his hips, circling his length inside of you with agonizingly slow hip rotations that taunted you with just enough stimulation that it left you mewling for more. “Answer me first, you needy bitch.” A gleam of sadism twinkled in his eye, making your heart lurch in his chest at how closely he resembled his brother.
“N-No, God, Rin.” You whispered breathlessly, shaking your head in an attempt to think clearly amidst your cockdrunk haze. However, each subtle rotation of his hips against your ass stirred your thoughts in a way that only muddied them further. “I love your cock more, I-I swear—”
“—So you’re a cheater, a whore, and a dirty little liar, Y/N?”
Your breath hitched in your throat, pushing yourself up from the mattress to now see Sae standing in front of you, glowering down at you with the same, if not more, sadistic gleam in his eye. Not daring to break your gaze from his own, you watched through your peripheral vision as his fists pumped his hard shaft only mere inches away from your face.
“Here I was, thinking you had more shame than this.” Sae huffed, clicking his tongue as his thumb stroked over your swollen bottom lip. “Yet here you are, so desperate for yet another cock in your drooling fuckhole that you’d do anything—even lie—just to relive the feeling of having what’s left of your pretty lil’ brains fucked out, right?”
“I—I . . .”
Resonably, you were at a loss for words, but there was no need to worry as Rin spoke up for you, “And you can’t even answer him? Pathetic. I bet if we let all of those lukewarm fuckfaces from Blue Lock run a train on you, you’d love every second of it, huh, princess?” He further accentuated his point with a hard, trained thrust deep into your womb. You swear he even grazed your cervix.
“No, no! I-I only want you, Rin. I only want you, I love you!”
You squeezed your eyes shut, and, although you were oblivious to it, the brothers shared a look with one another. Their silence was deafening, and even Rin’s hips had stilled within you. However, before you were able to voice your confusion, you would feel sharp, phallic taps against your cheek. You didn’t even have to open your eyes to know what it was.
“Good girl.” Sae cooed condescendingly as though he were talking to a mutt worthy of praise.
“Probably the most truthful statement you said all night,” Rin followed, albeit far quieter than his sibling as his thrusts once again resumed, drawing tantalizing moans from your lips. “Then tell me after this, which one of us fucks you better, yeah? And don’t you dare.” He paused, using his large hand to rain down a set of smacks on both of your pillowy ass cheeks forcing a cry to rip from your lips. “Dream of lying to me.”
You nodded as best you could against the force of Sae pressing his cock against your face, using his thumb to hold his length taut as he literally fucked your face with it. Immediately, Rin’s brutal pace resumed again. Using his newly acquired leverage and his bruising grip on your hips, he pressed his foot against the mattress next to your knee and proceeded to fuck himself deeper into you. It felt like he was trying to pry you open with each thrust. Had it not been for Sae taking the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth the moment you opened it to muffle your cry of ecstasy, you were certain that the neighbors would’ve thought you were being murdered.
In a way, though, it was almost like you were.
It was like you were being sandwiched between two killers, only instead of making you feel agony, they were both hellbent on delivering the most utmost pleasure to you—Rin rearranging your guts from behind and Sae feeding you inch after inch of his thick cock, neither one of them stopping until they were satisfied with having your belly pumped full of their cum.
My, the Itoshi brothers were truly the devil, weren’t they?
“Hngh, fuck. F-Fuck!” Rin snarled from behind you, his once quiet moans now morphing into beastly grunts and animalistic growls. You were certain that the blunt tips of his nails were now slicing into you from his strength, one of his hands dragging down your lower back to leave reddened marks in their wake until they marked your rippling ass, which was soon pelted with a few more furious swats.
“Stupid cumslut, grippin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” His voice grew raspy as his head tossed back in euphoria, carnal pants and heaves ripping from his throat so frequently that it almost did feel like you were being ravaged by a beast.
It was to the point where Sae's cock was slipping out of your mouth in favor of his palms holding your cheeks, and turning your head to look over your shoulder at your lover. Though still as eager for his release as Rin was, he continued to thrust his cock lazily against your face and pillowy brims.
“My god, princess. Look at what you’re turning him into.”
It was a sight to behold—one that you had only witnessed for yourself once before at the Blue Lock vs. U-20 game. Rin’s brows were raised, and his teal oculars were wide, swirling with untamable lust and desire as though he were being consumed by it. His lips were parted, his jaw dropped partially as his tongue dangled out of his mouth, and globs of crystalline drool pooled over his pink muscle, oozing down his chin and onto your abused cheeks below. He wasn’t looking at you. (You don’t know if you would be able to handle it if he did.) Instead, his gaze engrossed itself in the way your ass plapped against his pelvis, the sticky lines of your juices, and his drool connecting the two of you in a way that was beyond intimate. He was intoxicated, thoroughly pussy-drunk as the only thought in his mind was, ‘Get pregnant, get pregnant, get Y/N fucking pregnant.’
The sight alone was so arousing that you couldn’t help the way your pussy clenched around his cock, strangling it further to the point where a near feral snarl ripped through his now clenched teeth, bared at you in ferocity.
“Don’t fucking do that, fucking bitch.” He snapped, delivering another smack to your ass as his gaze finally raised to meet your own, promising lethality.
“M’sorry! I-I’m sorry, Rinnie!” You wailed against Sae’s cock as Rin’s hips slammed into you with such malice that you felt your legs going numb from the overwhelming pleasure.
“No th’fuck you’re not.” He slurred, just as drunk on the stimulation as you were. “This is what the fuck you’ve wanted this entire time, isn’t it? Wanted me to fuck you up? Make you scream from my ngh! From my cock ruining your pretty little pussy, isn’t it?”
“Y-Yes! God, yes, yes, Rin, please fuck me up more!”
“Yeah? Y’want me to put a pretty baby in you? Want me to make you a mommy, Y/N? Make that gorgeous tummy swollen with my kids, yeah?”
“Y-Yes, please! Please, please, make me a mommy! M-make me yours!”
“Silly, girl.” He snarled, delivering another quick swat to your ruined ass. “You were always mine.”
The idea of filling you to the brim with his seed and claiming you in a way that no man could ever claim—as the mother of his children—caused his erratic pace to falter and grow sloppier by the minute.
“Mine.” He growled. “Mine, mine, all fucking mine!”
Then, almost in perfect unison—pristine synchronization—you came together. Hips smothered firmly against your ass, he pumped rope after rope of his hot, thick cum inside of you, aiming deep into your womb with every intention of impregnating you. While you, on the otherhand, were unable to hold yourself up any longer, collapsing on the mattress as your orgasm washed over you. A barrage of your sweet juices fired over Rin’s cock, pelvis, thighs, and the poor sheets beneath you. Before you had any time to regain your bearings, you felt another tap on your cheek of the same phallic length from earlier.
“You forgot about me, pretty? C’mon, open that mouth for me one more time, yeah?”
Exhausted, you did as he asked without resistance, allowing your jaw to fall slack just enough for Sae to slip his cock into it. In a few pumps with his fist, the midfilder gladly fed you thick ropes of his seed, painting your mouth with his sticky release, which you wearily sucked down.
Then, unceremoniously, the two brothers collapsed beside you atop the ruined sheets.
The three of you lay there, completely depleted of all that you possessed. You were unquestionably the worst of the three, with deep teeth marks, scratches from blunt nails, bruises from fingerprints, and splotches of darkening hickies all over your body. Had anyone known any better, you appeared as though you had been mauled by savages—those very same savages who lay exhausted beside you.
After several much needed beats of deep silence, you felt the stirring of both of them pushing themselves up from the bed, and hands that were once so rough and unforgiving on your body were now handling you with the utmost care as though you were a porcelain doll made of the finest glass. As you walked the thin line bordering consciousness and unconsciousness, you felt warm, moist towels caressing your thighs, chest, and forehead, ridding you of any filth that tainted your once-supple skin. The sheets that had become beyond soiled from all of your fluids were gently lifted from beneath you and replaced with warm ones that had just come out of the dryer that had been running before Sae arrived. Just as you were about to fall asleep, your body was manipulated once more, this time into another equally warm one, causing your heavy lids to flutter open to focus on none other than your boyfriend—Rin's teal oculars.
“You still with me?” He inquired, his previously harsh tone softening to gentle and tender, as if speaking any louder would shatter your fragility.
You nodded weakly, seeking solace in his warmth and soft body, snuggling your petite frame into his. Rin quietly returned the favor, running his fingers through your hair and giving you occasional massages in the spots where he and Sae got too rough with you.
Speaking of, you heard Rin's door open and saw Sae standing in front of you, adorning a pair of black designer boxers.
“Here.” The midfeilder said plainly, passing a miniature carton of strawberry milk your way with a straw poked through the center.
Clearly in no position to receive such generosity, Rin accepted it for you, gently maneuvering you into a position where you could comfortably sip the much needed liquid into your dehydrated body. As you did so, Rin’s head rested atop your own, but not before he placed a tender, sweet kiss on your forehead full of love, unlike the one from earlier that was meant to lure you into a false sense of security. This is exactly what you needed after such arduous affairs, being held in your lover’s strong arms while enjoying the best strawberry milk you’ve ever had.
What should’ve been a cute moment was interrupted by Sae, who, with a look of disgust on his features, stated, “You two are disgusting.”
“Fuck you too, Nii-chan.” Rin shot over his shoulder, not missing the way Sae gave him the finger on his way out as he slammed his room door shut, leaving you and Rin in what should have been a comfortable silence.
But it was hampered by the sense of ambiguity that pervaded your relationship. The weight of past transgressions and tribulations weighed upon you both so heavily that it was nearly suffocating, threatening to take you both alive if it wasn’t for—
“I’m sorry.” The two of you stated in unison before, rather comically, whipping your heads to stare at one another, bewildered.
“Y/N.” Rin sighed heavily, shaking his head in denial. “You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should be. I made it seem like everything was all your fault when it was really Sae and I’s.” Another sigh drew from his lips as the realization dawned on him of the agreement he had made with his older brother to allow them to share you, one, without your prior consent, and two, without your knowledge. Not to mention, pinning the entire thing on you as though you were the infidelious one here.
“Y-Y/N.” His voice quivered. His gaze, too ashamed to look at you any further, drew to the ceiling. In the bright lights of his room, you watched as his eyes glazed over, tears that he refused to let fall clearly stinging at his irises. His face was etched with anguish; the weight of his actions had hit him like a sledgehammer, and his distress was palpable. “I-I’m sorry.” He whispered, daring himself to glance in your direction.
“Rinnie.” You uttered softly, biting back a wince as your sore arm rose to gently cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb swiping at his waterline to catch a straying tear. He wasn’t too good with words of sincerity, and you knew that—you wouldn’t press him for more. “I forgive you, so please don’t cry.” As you leaned in to give him a soft peck on the jaw, you noticed that you also felt the familiar sting of tears pricking your eyes. “You’re going to make me cry too, baby.”
Both of you were unable to control the gentle and quiet laughter that jostled your beings. And there it was—the moment of reprieve where the pressure of the unknown was lifted, replaced by a profound sense of reconciliation and renewal. Your eyes met with an intensity that conveyed unspoken apologies, forgiveness, and the promise of a fresh beginning. You two felt more intimate and connected to one another at that precise moment than you had ever experienced.
After you had finally finished the last of your drink, Rin took the empty carton from you and set it on his nightstand. You then proceed to curl into his chest, to which he ensared you in his grasp, entwining your limbs in his. With your head nestled against his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart soothed you and eased your mind or any lingering parasites. That is when you sensed it: the tranquil siren's song of sleep drawing you deeper and deeper into its pacifying depths.
However, before you could finally embrace slumber’s sweet call, Rin’s soft voice called out to you once more.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
“. . . I love you too, Rinnie.”
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ⓒ vampiie 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.
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mbsneur · 1 month
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Last Room Pt. 2
Alexia Putellas x Reader
Summary: you hate alexia but your best friend Salma wants you to get along well with alexia
Warnings: Smut Ahead 18+
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please read this text before going to the story (i‘m going to make a small series out of „last room“ so if you all want more parts let me know)
please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33
Alexia turns you onto your back and looks into your gasping face. She places small kisses on your breasts, which makes your insides ache again. After a few kisses and light sucking, her head comes to the level of your head. "Bésame" she whispers to you before you take her face in your hands and your lips turn into a deep kiss you pull on Alexia's shirt to give her the signal to take it off she pushes your hands away from her and holds them tightly above your head you want more you want her feel again
Alexia lets go of your lips, breathing heavily, and her other hand finds its way to your hard nipples to pinch them. You let out a whimper right into her mouth, which makes her smile slightly. She takes your whole breast in her hand and kneads it lightly you moan and start to fidget with your legs to somehow create friction
you grab her shoulders making her look at you "ale fuck me"
"Do you want me to fuck the hate out of you mh?" She says and grabs your hands again so that you don't have a chance to touch her any way. "Please fuck me until I'm a good girl" with an eager nod. Alexia pushes your thighs apart with her knee
Alexia sits up and look down to you She looked at your whole body with a sparkle in her eyes like you were a goddess or something. She pulls her shirt over her head and her toned stomach appears. You knew that Alexia's body was magical But you've never seen him in this state before. Her upper body glistens slightly with her sweat. She slides her hands under your bottom to put you in the right position. She leans down and starts nibbling on the inside of your thigs
You gasp and Alexia's tongue slides over your thighs. Each touch of hers makes you twitch and whimper. Her big hands reach into your ass and lift you slightly. She knows exactly how to tease you perfectly so that you become a moaning mess. You thought this teasing never happened An end until finally her tongue shoots out and licks a long strip from your hole to your clitoris. You wince slightly and close your eyes to feel everything from Alexia
Alexia licked small circles around your clitoris and your whimpers begin to turn into moans Alexia smacks your pussy and lets a small moan from her lips the vibrations send waves from your clitoris into your head she finally starts to lick your clitoris precisely and Finally, taking it between her teeth and sucking on it with a little pressure, she allows you to put your hands in her hair to move it to where you need it most
your hips start rocking into her face she starts sucking on your clit harder you moan loudly "Alexia your tongue feels so good- f-fuck" you moan and she dips her tongue into your hole and circles your walls poking her nose against your clitoris which triggers the perfect pressure your breathing becomes more irregular and your hips start to twitch more "Alexia-please I'm so close it feels so good don't stop" Alexia doesn't let go of you she notices how tight your walls are around her tongue "come on my tongue" she says between licks and thrusts, your legs start to tremble and your back arches up so much that Alexia has to push you down a little so that she doesn't lose you, all the heat rises to your head and you scream loudly "ale I'm cumming fuck I-" you cum with a loud moan from her name all over her tongue she doesn't stop moving
You want to pull her away from your pussy by her hair, but her head presses harder into you and she takes in all your juices. Your overstimulated whimper turns into moans of pleasure. You know that she wants to make you come again. Her tongue still works precisely in your hole she makes your eyes roll and your hips rock again. you didn't know when the last orgasm ended but you notice how the new one increased your noises become pornographic "ale - I'm close" you warn and she looks in from below your glassy eyes she sees how you squirm and how close you are again "can I cum" you moan and look at her hurtfully "mh" she simply answers without teasing you any further your head hits back on the mattress and your legs twitch hard around her head your whole body moves from overstimulation, your vision goes black and you only notice the trembling that you have all over your body
Alexia moved away from you and you immediately felt the emptiness. You tried to feel for her. She placed herself next to you and brushed the strands of hair out of your face and gently kissed the way from your cheek to your ear. "Let's see what your cheeky mouth can still do other than being cheeky?"
It's very short I'm not in the mood to write but let me know if you all want a part 3 <3
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vulpisnocturna · 1 year
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Binding Vow
This is purely self-indulgent because I was consumed with the idea of Chrollo and specifically, Yandere!Chrollo. So here it goes. This is filthy and Chrollo is unhinged. Nothing new.
Read on AO3
Part II
Part III
I do not condone this behaviour in real life. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if any of them are triggering to you.
Warnings: Yandere Chrollo, dom Chrollo, coercion, dub con (I mean it), psychological manipulation, kidnapping, captivity, possessiveness, obsession, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praise, slight humiliation kink
Summary: Abducted because Chrollo could not steal your Nen ability, you are ready to give in and trade your power for your freedom. But the choices Chrollo decides to lay in front of you are wholly different. One would say, the illusion of choice. You make him swear a vow to let you go as you make your choice. But one should pay close attention to the words used in a binding vow...
Word count: 7k
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One would think so many candles would be a fire hazard, to be frank. They were everywhere, on every wooden surface, on every shelf that wasn’t overcome with books of all sizes with leather spines, on the nightstands and even on the ground. It was as though the leader of the Phantom Troupe had an obsession with a certain type of aesthetic, and would not refrain from littering his surroundings with candles every time he found a new place where his gang could crash. Perhaps, he had a candle for every person he had ever killed.
Though you supposed one would lose count after a while.
If you were to ingratiate him, you knew what he would appreciate having as a gift; although who needed gifts when your profession was stealing whatever you wanted, whatever thing you had a passing whim for?
As far as you were aware, you were the last passing whim Chrollo Lucilfer had stolen. You had known of his power to steal abilities, and even though you had tried to escape when the Troupe had come to abduct you, it seemed he hadn’t been successful in stealing your power. Yet.
Your Nen power wasn’t meant to fight, really, so the possibility of forcing your way through the Troupe had been preposterous. Your ability was that of having regenerative power, to the point where you could heal fatal wounds to yourself and others. He obviously must have wanted it for himself, and you hadn’t exactly had any way of escaping his wishes.
After a month of captivity, though, you weren’t sure you could bear it for much longer. If all he wanted was your power, why not let him “borrow” it, as he so nonchalantly put it? So you could go back to your own life, so you didn’t have to be locked up in that house, so that he would let you go? Would he even let you go, if you gave him the ability? Or would he want to tie loose ends and get rid of you? You shuddered in the cold air of the bedroom you had been confined to in his absence. 
He had left you to your own devices that day for the entirety of the morning, whilst he had spent all his time with you previously. Studying you, asking you questions, letting you know between the lines that he knew who you were, who your loved ones were, where they lived. He had called you a “treasured guest” in the same sentence, with such audacity that you had been left stunned at the complete lack of morals that man had.
But then again, he also seemed to have some twisted attraction to you. They did say the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest, and because you knew of his power, he couldn’t get to your Nen ability if you did not reveal how it worked and fulfilled his conditions. In the last two weeks, he had taken to something you could only define as an attempt at seduction.
He would sit with you in the living room, inviting you to get closer to him, reassuring you he had no intentions of harming you. He would stare at you with those stormy eyes of his that seemed to burn through you like electricity, and his gaze would rake over your body like he was appraising some kind of rare, expensive object he planned to take for himself. Which he probably was.
Despite knowing who he was, despite knowing how sticky with blood his hands were, you were only a fallible human. And he was... a murderer, a manipulator, a thief; and he was also cunning, intuitive, soft-spoken, caring with you in a sick way, and the most handsome man you had ever met. Despite all of your efforts, it was not possible to deny the effect he had on you. And it was not possible to hide it from him. Observant as he was, obsessed as he was with watching your every reaction, every little twitch of your body, every time your breath faltered when he was too close, every time he commented casually how your pupils were dilating, every time his long, willowy fingers grazed your skin, he could see all of it. And all of it was a twisted game of cat and mouse to him.
Another heist, another plot to strategise and accomplish. He was always composed, always neutral, if not for his sly looks, wily smirks and piercing eyes. He always seemed to have the upper hand. It did not matter that he did not have your power, he seemed to be a patient man.
Until that day.
You had assumed he was waiting for you to break by keeping you captive, although treated with enough civility and never physically harmed, because he had not mentioned wanting your Nen power since the one time he had told you he wished to borrow it. In your mind, he was simply determined to stir the pot and then leave you to stew in it for a while, knowing at some point, your desire for freedom would overcome your attachment to your ability. Letting you run your mind wild with suppositions and conjectures that led nowhere as you tried to analyse his reasons and predict his behaviour. And it was working. You were almost done with it. If he asked you to choose between your power and your freedom, you knew what you would pick.
When he came back from whatever the hell he’d been doing that morning, his appearance was pristine. He was wearing his hair down, no headband in sight, a white shirt with the first two buttons undone and smart black trousers. All in all, he was the picture of what you could only define as sex appeal and sophistication mixed together in a heady blur of sharp eyes, chiselled, angular features and a mellow voice that still managed to sting.
He unlocked your door using a Nen ability he’d probably also stolen and closed it behind him, smiling softly at you as he appraised you.
‘Hello, darling. I hope you did not feel too lonely without my company’ he said easily, conversationally. You disliked the pet names he had started to throw at you in the last two weeks. They made it seem like there was more to this relationship than a prisoner and their warden. More he wanted. But not your ability. No. You. And it made your stomach churn every time. 
You decided to ignore him, because what else could you do? You were locked in a room with him, with no escape, and you had been held captive for a month now. What could possibly make it worse than it already was?
But you were so very naïve. You should have paid heed to his shrewd grey eyes, to the way his lips twitched as though he delighted in knowing something you didn’t, in watching you rack your brains in trying to figure him out.
You had been so naïve in thinking that he had kidnapped you and held you captive to steal your ability. After all, he could torture it out of you. 
Did he just enjoy the game? What did he want? Was there another condition that needed you to be willing to share it with him? That must have been it. He needed you to give it to him willingly, that was why he was going after your mental sanity instead of torturing it out of you.
‘You seem quite tense. Sit with me. I have a proposition for you’ he said, gracefully stepping to your side, brushing his fingers on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine just as your nose caught a whiff of his expensive cologne. His scent was just as intoxicating as he was, something masculine yet refined, a blend that made your lower stomach hot. You fought to keep eye contact as he sat on the plush loveseat by the fireplace, tapping the empty space right next to him, his eyes boring into you with curious amusement. 
You grimaced, feeling weak and dizzy as you sat down on the armchair, the only other surface available to you aside from the bed and the loveseat, which was out of the question. Chrollo’s lips twitched in amusement, his eyes glinting with interest as he rested his cheek against his fist. 
‘I have a few choices for you. I assume you are quite unsatisfied with your current predicament, therefore, I am giving you the chance to escape all the doubt that must be swarming your mind by now’ he said calmly, that little smirk still on his lips. You did not give way to hope. You did not lower your guard. Thieves did not return goods. If they got rid of them, it was after getting something else in return. So what was he playing at? What was his angle?
‘Your distrust is quite strong, dearest. You should learn to hide your emotions more, if you plan to attempt to play me. Though I must admit the thought of it is quite thrilling. So feel free to try it. Your first choice is to give me your Nen ability in exchange for the end of this predicament. Your second choice is to give yourself to me now. I trust you understand the meaning behind my words. If that is your choice, you can start by getting up and walking over here’ he said, smoothly, easily, seductively, his eyes mischievous. 
You blinked, swallowing heavily, your lips parting. He… was making you choose between your Nen ability or having sex with him in exchange for your freedom? The choice was not really that. It was an illusion of it. Perhaps he merely sought to humiliate you, because of course, the reasonable choice would be to get it over and done with, have sex with him just that once and walk away with your life and your ability intact. Who in their right mind would pick the first choice? 
He was hot, charming, attractive. So long as you could separate the part of you that knew what he was, what he did, and the shame that came with prostituting yourself to your captor, it would not be that bad. It would be over quickly, you only had to focus on his physical attributes, shut out his horrid persona.
‘You want me to prostitute myself to you’ you said, your cheeks burning with humiliation. He let out a wilful sigh. 
‘That is an uncouth appraisal of it. It is quite clear from your reactions to me that you desire me, too. Is that prostitution? More of a mutual desire, I’d wager. Rather a small price to pay to retain your power, is it not?’ he asked, smiling sweetly, smugly. You ground your jaw, your whole face feeling hot, your eyes stinging with the embarrassment of your current predicament, as he loved to call your captivity.
‘Why would I want to... have sex with someone like you? A... murderer- a thief, a kidnapper?’ you spat, repulsed, sitting rigidly in the armchair, quite the opposite picture to his nonchalant lounging. He let out a soft laugh.
‘Oh, darling. Are you pretending to have steadfast morals now?’ he crooned, voice soft and mellow. Completely unbothered by your accusations.
‘What are you trying to imply?’ you chewed on the corner of your bottom lip, a movement he followed with a hint of ravenousness in his silvery eyes.
‘Your morals seem somewhat flexible to me. You have been eating food paid with stolen money for a month, sleeping in a stolen mansion, wearing stolen clothes. I trust you were clever enough to know this from the beginning of your sojourn here’ he said casually, seeming almost enthusiastic about debunking every argument you could bring to the table. It was as though he found pleasure in discrediting your beliefs and making you vacillate. Perhaps it stroked his ego.
 ‘I had no choice about sleeping here. Should I have starved? Should I have wandered around naked for a month?’ you snapped, regretting your words immediately when you saw him look at you so intensely. As though he was undressing you himself with his eyes.
‘Well, you certainly could have tried to starve yourself. I would have admired your efforts to cling to your pride and ethical dilemma, and you would not be in this moral conundrum now if you had. You would be able to blame me for it. As to your last point, that would have certainly been a sight. Again, the choice was there. I would not have stopped you’ he said slyly, his voice getting lower and more seductive, like a caress on your spine. You bristled.
‘Those are not choices. Like these aren’t’ you pressed, and he sighed, still smiling like nothing could make him waver.
‘Are they not? You have two paths before you. Every human being is offered choices. Now, be a darling and make one. What will you choose?’ he mused. You closed your eyes, your fingers curling on the fabric of your skirt.
‘You will not steal my power if I- give my body to you now. Right?’ you asked slowly, trying to find a loophole in his words.
‘I will not. If you choose to indulge me now, I will not steal your power’ he said. You gulped. You did not want him to lose his patience and take away your opportunity. You also wanted his word that you would be let out alive and unharmed.
‘And this- this predicament will be done once I do that too. You will not kill me- nor harm me after that. I will be allowed to leave this place alive’ you said cautiously, weighing your words. He smiled.
‘Of course. In order to ease your worries, why don’t I make a vow with you? A condition, if you will. And if I break it, I will die. If this is your choice, and you want reassurance before you continue with it, I will of course be willing to ease your worries. Stand up and come closer’ he said, and you tried not to show your relief. If he was promising, there was nothing to worry about. You could do this, keep your life and your well-being, leave with your power. It was not a bad deal. Not a bad deal at all. You should be happy that he seemed to be attracted to you. That he was even giving you a choice in the matter.
You slowly got up, and your legs felt weak as you stepped closer to him, feeling like his gaze was burning through you. You stopped in front of him, tense like a violin string as a grimoire appeared in his hand.
‘Sit on my lap, darling’ he murmured, and you found yourself feeling all kinds of things in your body, from nerve-wracking anxiety to butterflies in your stomach to warmth in your gut and weakness in your legs. You inched closer to him, gingerly sitting sideways on his lap.
You were immediately engulfed by his enthralling cologne, and his arm wrapped around you, fingers curling on your waist to keep you in place. You squirmed, gulping when he dipped his head to breathe against your neck, making goosebumps appear on your exposed skin.
‘Your scent is intoxicating, dearest’ he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to expose the side of your face to him. You could not deny how seductive he could be, how tantalising his touch felt. But you would not be swayed from the promise he’d made.
‘The vow first’ you said somewhat nervously, and he smiled, nodding and keeping an arm around your torso as he picked up his book of stolen abilities and flicked through it, stopping in front of a binding vow.
‘Now, I vow that I will not make your Nen ability mine and steal it from you. It will remain yours. I vow I will not kill you, nor will I ask anyone else to do so for me. Should you respect the terms I have presented to you, you will leave this place unscathed within a day, with your power still in your hands. Should I fail to respect these terms, I will die on the spot. Do you accept?’ he said, and you tried to find any loophole that would allow him to kill you or steal your ability in his words, even though his fingers stroking your ribcage were distracting, but you could not find anything. You nodded.
‘I accept’ you said, and he picked up a small dagger from his pocket, shushing you when you gasped and tried to get away. He pricked his thumb, showing you the small droplet of blood that was forming on the surface of his skin.
‘I won’t hurt you. I just need a drop of your blood. Your hand, if you will, darling. Or the vow won’t work’ he said, and you gingerly let him lift one of your hands and prick your thumb. He pressed yours against his, and you could see the aura surrounding your fingers working. You relaxed a little when he threw the dagger away, supposedly letting it pierce the wood of the highest bookshelf so you could not reach it in an attempt to attack him.
He wiped your thumb and his with a handkerchief, tossing it on the table and letting the grimoire disappear.
‘I hope I was successful in easing your worries. Now, where were we?’ he murmured, round, pretty eyes heavy-lidded, lust-laden as they scanned your face. You felt as though you were in the lion’s den for the first time, or more fittingly, a small butterfly trapped in a spider web. Just waiting to be devoured.
He cupped your jaw, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leisurely taking his time in savouring you. Part of you wished he would just get it over and done with, another part of you, a shameful one, burnt at every action he took, at his stifling seduction. You might as well enjoy it and hope he was good at the very least, right? No one could blame you for it. Your survival was at stake, after all.
You stopped thinking altogether when his lips grazed your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips. He was slow and sensual in all of his movements, but there was something that slipped through the façade, something possessive about the way his fingers curled around your throat, trapping you in place as his lips pressed against yours.
They were soft. Soft and smooth, warm and demanding. You could not deny the pull they had. You were coaxed into seeking them out whenever he pulled away slightly, pressing them against you again, more and more passionately each time, almost manipulating you into wanting him to get rougher.
And he did. His teeth sank into the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, pulling lightly, and his tongue was quick to soothe the sting, taking advantage of your little gasp to slip in your mouth and lay siege on your tongue. It was all akin to a game of pull and push with him. He wheedled you into letting go more and more with each time he gave you something only to take it away and revel in how you sought it again. Just as he had presented the illusion of you wanting this from him, he was now making you act on it as though you had always desired nothing more.
Until your fingers were tangled in his soft raven hair, pulling lightly at it, and you were seeking his soft lips and their taste reminiscent of rich red wine to suck on his bottom lip languidly. Until his teeth nipping at your bottom lip had you mewl in his mouth.
‘Eager, are we? How sweet’ he breathed, and you felt the trap snap, the mechanism trapping you like a helpless doe caught by pincers. All of his teasing had led to this, to making you see that you wanted him, wanted this to happen. And as much as you could deny it, your actions spoke loudly, and your body’s reaction did too. The knowledge that you were already turned on and that if he decided to reach between your thighs he would see just how responsive you were to him made the mortification burn in your chest.
You had wanted to keep your dignity and show your distaste for what was happening, but he had managed to reduce you to a docile doll just by kissing your lips. And his sardonic smile and eyes told you that you were right in that assumption.
And before you could hope to collect yourself, his mouth was on your throat, hungry but still slow, leaving you wanting more. He licked a long stripe along your pulse, making it shoot up as his fingers curled around the roots of your hair and pulled, exposing your vulnerable neck to him. You could not restrain the whimper that escaped you as he kissed and started sucking a sensitive spot between your neck and your shoulder, sure to leave a mark to remind you of what you had done, of your flexible morals, as he’d called them.
His fingers clutched your side, wandered down to your hip and the swell of your ass, grazed your thigh and snaked under your skirt to grope at the plump flesh of your backside. You were too lost in the pleasure of his mouth and tongue on your throat to truly consider your situation and who it was that was touching you so possessively, so greedily. If anything, it only stoked the fire within you.
‘Good girl’ he crooned, sending a jolt to your clit with the dirty praise. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a soft chuckle from him and a graze of his thumb over your stiff nipple. You were wearing a simple satin shirt with a flimsy bralette, and the friction of the material was torturous against your nipples.
Chrollo pulled the shirt out of your skirt, making quick work of the buttons with one hand whilst the other was still kneading your ass and his mouth was still on your throat. He slipped the garment off you, pulling away to observe you. You gulped, averting your eyes at the sight of his hungry stare, quivering as his fingers ghosted your sternum, your ribcage, the swell of your breasts.
‘You are so beautiful, darling’ he murmured, his lips softly pressing against your collarbone, his fingers deftly lowering the straps of your bralette and unhooking it. He tossed it aside, groaning softly as his hand cupped your breast, kneading it in his fingers, pinching your nipple and rolling it between thumb and index finger.
You tried to stifle a moan, to which he seemed to take offense, because he stopped and bit down hard on your shoulder, making you whine in the process.
‘I want to hear you. The more you stifle your voice, the longer I will tease you. Understood?’ he said, and you meekly nodded, only to speak up when he gave you a meaningful glance.
‘Yes’ you hissed, and he seemed pleased, because he hummed and made you arch your back so that his tongue could lick your stiff nipple and flick it. You were careful not to stifle the small whine that left your lips, and he rewarded you by sucking your nipple in his mouth, scraping it with his teeth and making you cling onto his shoulders.
He bunched up your skirt up to your waist, leaving you exposed as he trailed his fingers to your inner thighs, in a silent request to spread your legs. You were not wholly aware of how swiftly you complied, you only knew that when he first cupped you through your panties, your eyelids fluttered and a soft moan poured out of you.
‘You are soaked for me, pet. Your morals do not seem to extend to your body. Try as you might, you want this, and you cannot lie to me’ he purred, dragging his fingers and pressing against your clit, holding you still when you squirmed away from his touch. You let out a loud moan, your hips jerking. He pulled your panties to the side, rubbing your clit and dipping two fingers inside you, curling them, making your head drop on his shoulder as you moaned against his neck, enveloped by the scent of his cologne.
‘That’s it. That’s my good girl. If I knew how much you liked being fingered on my lap, I would have done this much sooner. No matter. I’ll make it up to you, darling’ he breathed, voice slightly strained as though he was holding back something much more primal from taking over, but you were too dazed to take much notice of all the filth he was spewing and how he sought to humiliate you further, because his touch admittedly felt like heaven. His willowy fingers inside you kept pressing against all the right places, and you could not help but clench around them, your hips twitching into his hand every time his palm rubbed against your sensitive clit.
You were lost in the motion of his fingers as you rutted against his hand, shamelessly chasing your own high as he continued to praise you and kiss you, rewarding every sound you made with a curl of his fingers that had you melting in his arms. Until you could not take it anymore.
‘Can’t- ‘m close’ you huffed out, breathing erratic, chest heaving as his fingers pumped inside you, and he hummed, licking your neck and sucking on it again.
‘Cum for me, pet’ he urged, and your eyes scrunched up, a lewd moan ripping through you as you tensed up on his thigh, sound fading away as you came undone.
You slumped on him, breathing heavily, your cunt throbbing around his fingers as he lazily fucked you through your aftershocks, your hair clinging to the back of your neck from the light sheen of sweat that had formed there.
‘Suck’ you heard, and dazed as you were, you obediently opened your mouth when he presented his fingers, sucking and licking the pads of his fingers, tasting yourself. You had to cling to him as he stood up and walked over to the bed, lowering you on it and observing you as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.
There was no denying it, he was attractive. Lean but toned, with graceful abs adorning his flat stomach, jutting collarbones and well-defined biceps; with the way the candlelight danced on his pale skin, making it glow with soft orange hues, he truly looked like he might be a fantasy of sorts.
You supposed he looked like a fallen angel, as his name suggested. Like the Alexandre Cabanel painting of the fallen angel, dangerous but so tempting. It was unfair that he should also be able to make you come undone so easily, when you had vowed to not give him the satisfaction.
He smirked at you, undoing his belt, slipping it through the hooks, catching you staring first at the clear dampness on his thigh, then at the evident bulge of his erection.
You supposed he would fuck you now. If you were being honest, you had thought he wouldn’t have taken such interest in your pleasure, but now, it seemed only fitting: it was all to aid his game, to stroke his ego in humiliating you by showing you how you could not abide by your morals, how you’d moaned and whined to be touched by those blood-stained hands.
Instead, he kept his trousers on, only going so far as to unbutton them to give himself more space. He seemed... quite gifted in that area too, you thought with a grimace. Was there anything that did not favour him? It seemed that fortune graced the wicked in that nonsensical world, because he had it all.
He caged you underneath him, his hair tickling your face as he drew you into a heated kiss, his hands roving down your body, fingertips digging into your hips, tongue pressing against yours.
He was quick to unzip your skirt and slide it off you along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed whilst he still retained his power by not undressing completely.
‘You were so precious squirming on my lap, so good for me. You deserve a reward’ he crooned against your ear in that soft, melodious voice of his, making you swallow heavily as you wondered what he might do to you now.
He did not leave you guessing for long. His mouth traced your collarbone, his head lowering as he licked your sternum and left a dark lovebite above your nipple, another reminder that would bring you back to this room, to what he was doing to you for the following week. He seemed intent on marking you whenever he could, and until he had littered your chest with purple brushstrokes, until you were but a moaning mess, he refused to move on, no matter how much you tried to squirm away and whimper at some of the harshest ones on your ribcage.
He continued to kiss down your stomach, massaging your thighs, cupping your ass and lowering his head to kiss your thighs. You were rendered breathless and unable to stop thrashing and moaning as he sucked another lovebite on your inner thigh, keeping you pinned down and at his mercy. You just wanted him to bury his head between your thighs, you were close, close to begging for it, were it not for your pride. Were it not for who he was.
Fortunately, you did not need to stoop that low. His tongue flattened and dragged up your cunt, tensing and flicking your clit from underneath as he got to the top, tearing a breathless moan from you.
‘You taste so sweet’ he huffed out against your skin, blowing cold air on your clit and making you whine and scoot away. He dragged you back, a wicked light in his stormy eyes as he glanced at you and licked your clit, rolling it on his tongue.
‘F-fuck’ you breathed, your hands shooting to his hair, pulling lightly, trying to ground yourself as he continued to toy with your clit, sucking it and licking it fervently. You could not hold yourself. If he was amazing with his fingers, he was incredible with his tongue. Judging by how he seemed to have a way with words, you should not have been surprised that he was so maddeningly good at pleasuring with his tongue. It was making you lose your mind.
Even if you had tried, you would not have been able to restrain the need to keen, whine and moan every time he sucked your clit, dipped his tongue inside you or drew figures around your clit.
He was insatiable as he flung your thighs on his shoulders, seemingly unbothered with the way you trapped his head and rutted against his face. In fact, he seemed thrilled to follow the movement of your hips, giving you more and more until you were babbling and keening incoherently, unable to even speak.
‘Fuck- Ch- Chrollo...’ you whined longingly, unable to realise your slip of moaning his name in the throes of pleasure. But he heard you loud and clear, because he groaned, and his name on your lips only seemed to spur him on. In a few seconds, he was sucking on your clit, giving you more pleasure than you’d ever thought was even possible, until the torturous knot in your stomach snapped and released and you came with a cry, tears prickling the corners of your eyes, your hair tousled and messy on the pillow, your muscles tensing, toes curling and fingers clawing at the sheets.
You kept your eyes closed for a while, easing into your breathing, feeling as though your body had completely melted, feeling as though you couldn’t even move.
‘You can still take my cock, can’t you, darling? After all, I have made you feel so good. It’s only fair. Do not worry, you will not mind. You seem to love being fucked by the one you spoke of with such revulsion. It’s quite endearing, watching you struggle with your morals’ he crooned, and you opened your eyes, watching him stroke his cock a few times. It was quite long and fairly thick, slightly tilted upwards.
You were too fucked out to consider his taunting, but you knew he was right. Both mindsets could not peacefully coexist in your mind: how could you be so willing and find so much pleasure in someone like him? How could you hate him and love what he was doing to you? It might have been an involuntary physical reaction, but you should have had more resolve, more restraint. Otherwise, what did that say about you?
Chrollo lined himself between your legs, rubbing his cock along your labia, on your clit, instantly making those thoughts fade in the haze of pleasure as you let out a soft sigh and automatically tried to hook your legs around his slender hips.
He gripped your thigh, pushing the tip of his cock inside you, easily slipping inside inch by inch with how shamefully wet you were, and yet, you already felt so full, like he was stretching you to the limit. You clawed at his back, raking your nails across his shoulder blades, gasping and whimpering along with his soft moan.
‘Fuck. So tight... so wet. Such a perfect little cunt’ he huffed out, his lips parting in pleasure, dark eyebrows furrowing. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to relax your muscles to accommodate his size, clung to his shoulders for support.
He wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, continuing to push inside you, albeit slowly, until he was buried to the hilt. You clenched around him, and the soft groan he let out made your stomach drop with a surge of pleasure. He bottomed out and slammed back in, tearing a broken moan from you as he set a ruthless pace, his eyes darkening with lust and the slip of his mask, hunger palpable in his every movement and the way he sought to fully claim you.
He lifted your legs higher up around his waist, his fingers tightening around your throat, not pressing on the front, leaving you room to breathe but making you even more dizzy than you already were.
His pelvis kept slapping against your clit, drawing out whines and pants from you, and with every thrust, he seemed to grow more accustomed to where you liked to be touched, because as soon as his cock pressed against your g-spot, your back arched and your head thrashed from side to side, a lewd moan echoing in the room as you clamped around him.
‘There, huh? Let me do it again, darling’ he breathed, one hand lifting both your legs and bending them at the knees, letting you rest them against his chest as he rammed into you, hitting the same spot again and again, relentlessly building the pressure inside you, making you see stars.
‘Mhh- too much... Chrollo’ you whined, trapped underneath him, feeling as though you might implode if he didn’t stop- or if he stopped, for what it was worth.
‘Moan my name again, pet. Let me hear how filthy it sounds on your lips’ he grunted, the sound of skin slapping against skin both enticing and dirty as he continued to fuck you into the mattress.
When you didn’t reply, suddenly aware of how you were moaning his name, reinforcing how you knew- wanted it to be him to fuck you at that moment, he let out a breathless laugh.
‘Looks as though you might need some convincing’ he said, slowing down and eventually slipping out of you, letting your legs down. You whimpered, desire clawing at your gut, your cunt clenching around nothing as you opened your bleary eyes and set them on him. He gave you a smirk, flipping you on your stomach and lifting your hips, spreading your knees with his and pushing on your lower back to make you arch into him. You lifted yourself on your elbows and heard his tongue click against his teeth condescendingly before he pushed your head against the mattress and smacked your ass with a resounding slap.
You yelped, biting down on your lower lip, mortification once again mingling with pleasure as he pushed his cock back inside you, letting out a soft groan.
‘Use your hands one more time and I will tie them up behind your back. It will feel better like this. For me- and for you’ he said, fisting your hair and gripping your hip, starting to pound into you from behind once again.
It did feel better like this. Deeper. Unbearable. He stimulated your clit with every thrust, the tip of his cock kept pressing against your cervix, and you did not know if you could bear it much longer.
You found the bridge of your nose damp with tears, and struggled to recognise your own voice in the filthy moans you were letting out. It was humiliating and it was impossibly pleasurable, and the mix was somewhat addicting, tainting. It was ruining every shred of sanity left in your brain.
Until he got what he wanted. Because it seemed as though he always did. He could steal anything, including his name from your lips said with such want and bliss that had you not been fucked stupid, you would have wanted to die.
‘Ahh- Chr- Chrollo! Fuck. Gonna cum’ you screamed, sobbing, clenching around him, getting even closer to a mind-shattering orgasm with every moan and groan he graced you with.
‘Good girl. My girl. Mine. You love this, mh? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how badly you want to cum all over my cock’ he urged, voice possessive and low, and you could not stop yourself, could not do anything but acquiesce, because you needed- needed to cum.
‘Yes! Please. Please let me cum. Please. Need it so bad’ you whined, sobbed even, desperate for reprieve, hoping he would have mercy on you, hoping he would let you finish. His fingers reached under you to rub at your clit, and you could hardly contain a sob of wild pleasure and the jolt of your hips.
‘Since you asked so nicely. Go on, pet, cum for me’ he huffed out, still thrusting inside you at that unrelenting pace, and as though he had power over your own body, you felt the release hit you like a wave of overwhelming pleasure that made your vision white and your ears fill with static.
He was quick to cum with a breathy moan as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, holding you tightly as he spilled inside you. He continued to push in and out slowly, until you stopped throbbing and squeezing around him.
‘Fuck’ he breathed, letting you collapse on the bed and doing the same next to you. You both stayed silent for a minute or two, catching your breath, feeling the cool air on your feverish skin.
‘Let me clean you up, darling’ he said, and you didn’t have the strength to object as he got up and walked away, the sound of his footsteps quiet as you kept your eyes closed until he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel, his trousers back on, but still shirtless. He wiped your inner thighs gently, with more care than you wanted to admit someone like him could be capable of, and carefully lifted you up so you could drink the water he’d brought you.
You took small gulps, finding it felt amazing trickling down your dry, raw throat after all that crying and screaming. He only put the glass on the nightstand when you had finished it all.
‘Thanks’ you said absent-mindedly, your mind slowly coming back to you in coherent thoughts as you attempted to cover yourself with the duvet. He gave you a languid smile, tucking your hair away from your face and lying next to you.
But it was finally over now. You could leave. Your deal had revealed itself to be better than you wanted to admit, but now, you were finally free. You could put this all behind you.
You tried to get up and gather your clothes, but your body felt like a ragdoll. He had really done a number on you.
‘Careful, dearest. You should wait a little’ he said, smiling at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. You let out a shuddering breath.
‘Want to get... my clothes, and leave’ you said, getting up and hastily putting on your clothes, feeling a little dizzy. You walked back towards the bed, retrieving your underwear and your skirt, putting them on, almost falling were it not for his arms catching you and holding you still.
You felt weird. It had surely been intense, but so intense that your vision was slowly darkening around the edges and your arms and legs felt as heavy as lead?
He pulled you on his lap, and you protested weakly when he started to stroke your hair and kissed your forehead.
‘No- you said I would be free after this. Let me leave’ you slurred, and he shushed you, tenderly stroking your back in soothing gestures.
‘Oh, darling, I never said you would be free’ he said softly, still holding you. You blinked, confused, his face blurry as you stared at him.
‘You said- I’d be leaving this place- with my power... un...scathed within... a day. What d’you do to me?’ your words were garbled together, slurred like you were drunk. And you felt so heavy and tired.
‘I put a few sleeping pills in the water I gave you. Nothing that will harm you, so don’t worry your pretty little head. I don’t need to steal your power if I keep you. You will leave unscathed, but I never said you would leave alone. You should really pay more attention to the words of a vow, my love’ he said, stroking your hair, his soft voice lulling you into sleep despite how horrified you were in your mind. He had tricked you. Had no plans of freeing you. You hadn’t considered he might keep you. Hadn’t considered the depth of his obsession with you. Hadn’t considered there was more than one reason why he had kept you captive.
‘I cannot be parted from you, my love. Your place is by my side. Now close your eyes. Sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us’ he said gently, soothingly. And you could not help but do as he said, your eyelids growing heavier and heavier, your thoughts muddying and fading away along with your consciousness.
Part II here
Part III here
2K notes · View notes
idyllic-affections · 7 months
Text
little colt.
summary. xianyun cannot help but take in another child. perhaps, in the future, they may become a disciple of hers.
trigger & content warnings. none applicable.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, found family-ish. xianyun & child!reader. 2k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next.
author's thoughts. bird mom propaganda RAHHHHHH btw if you find a typo no you didn't i'm sleepy but i wanted to post this........
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       Cloud Retainer has taken on many disciples in her time, and she has loved each and every one as if they were her own.
       It was, therefore, quite unlikely that she woukd cease to take on disciples anytime within the forseeable future. Her love was extensive, far beyond what most mortals would be able to comprehend, and her capacity for intimate and tight bonds was even moreso. She has taken on many disciples over the years, and she has loved them all like her own children.
       Perhaps it could be attributed to her adeptal instincts; she can recall many a time during which her fellow adepti, upon bonding closely with another being, became exceedingly protective of them. It was only natural—adepti lived for so long and were often affected by their more nonhuman instincts. It wouldn't be improbable to imagine that the need to bond with other beings would grow strong over so many years.
       ...Then again, it could always simply be attributed to her. In her mind, there was little need for any such justification like 'instincts.' She could scoff at the idea��she was no mere animal. 'Instincts' could not begin to fully explain the depth of her love and care; it was surely infinitely more complicated than the mere maternal urges that a simple crane, a wild animal, might have. She was infinitely more intricate and convoluted than an uncomplicated bird.
       (That, however, did not change the fact that she did tend to have bird-like habits. Preening, nesting in her own way... She preferred not to bring attention to that fact, however.)
       Regardless of the reason, the truth was that she was lonely, even if she vehemently denied it whenever someone brought up the idea. Mt. Aocang was... quiet, dreadfully so without the constant presence of Ganyu or Shenhe or any of her other disciples. She enjoyed the silence to an extent, but she could only entertain herself for so long without another being to share her knowledge with. Liyue Harbor was far more lively. Loud and chaotic at times, perhaps, but far less lonely than the empty nest that her adeptal abode had become.
       Maybe that was why she was so immediately invested in the little one who had accidentially bumped into her and was now apologizing profusely.
       "I'm— I'm so sorry, miss! I wasn't watching where I was going! I really didn't mean it, I..."
       'What a swift little thing,' she couldn't help but muse. She'd hardly even spotted them rushing her way before they tumbled into her legs. Their body weight wasn't even enough to make her stumble—if anything, they were the one that ended up getting thrown off balance. It was cute how small they were compared to her, really; it reminded her of Shenhe when she was a child, or even her current disciple, Shuyu.
       Ah... but she shouldn't be so quick to think fondly of them. No, surely this little one had parents of their own—a life of their own—to return to. She did not even know their name. No. Bonds should not be so quick to form.
       With elegant, poised grace akin to a gentle breeze rustling a tree's leaves, she knelt down, the motion putting an end to their sheepish yet hurried apologies. Glossy, innocent eyes stared up at her—even kneeling, Xianyun was still a bit taller than they were—with an amount of awe that would've made her feathers puff out in pride had she been in her illuminated beast form. She was not one to grow embarrassed at admiration, after all.
       "Where are your caregivers, child?"
       "Oh. Um." Their brows furrowed slightly. "...I don't know, actually."
       "Ah, are you lost? Come, then. One— Ahem. I shall reuinte you with them. I am certain they must be quite frantic in your absence."
       Before she could rise and offer her clawed hand to them, they urgently shook their head.
       "Oh, no! It's not like that, miss. Even if it was, I wouldn't want to trouble you at all! I would find my way back!" they insisted politely, waving their hands in front of their body as if to dismiss her concerns (though, Xianyun hardly thought it would be "troubling"; she was a bit surprised that they felt it so, or perhaps they were really just trying to be polite). It was then that she noticed the little wooden chick held carefully in one of their hands, but she did not yet have the opportunity to inquire about it. "I've been on my own for as long as I can remember, that's all."
       Oh?
       Oh.
       "Hm. Is that so?"
       "Uh-huh."
       "In that case, child, I—"
       A man rounding the corner and immediately prevented her from finishing her sentence. He was very clearly furious, approaching the child with such fervent determination that Xianyun could not help but wonder what nature of a troublemaker she must have encountered. Though... she really did not see them that way, which only made her infintely more curious about rhe situation at hand.
       Their expression seemed to fall.
       "You, kid!" he shouted, stopping just a foot or two away from them. "You can't just go around stealing whatever you please! Who raised you?!"
       "No, I..." They could not meet his gaze. "I was gonna bring back more mora to make up for it when I could, I just—!"
       "Don't give me excuses. I want the toy you've stolen returned, you understand? Hand it over!"
       Xianyun sighed, adjusting her glasses.
       "Enough," she said, rising to her feet. "How much mora will suffice? For reparations, of course."
       "Rep— reparations?" the man stuttered, then sighed. "No, no... look. You're the mom? Just teach your kid not to go around stealing. The toy's not worth much, but a kid who starts stealing this young will take far more important things in the future. So, teach 'em not to do it."
       Hiding behind Xianyun's legs, they couldn't help but stare upwards in wonderment. His attitude flipped completely when faced with a woman so much taller than he was, and with an air surrounding her that demanded such an impossible amount of respect. They honestly could not blame him for such an attitude change; they would too, they thought, if they were faced with someone like her.
       "Very well. You have my apologies on their behalf." She turned on her heel, holding out her hand to them. "Let us go, little colt."
       Colt?
       Bewildered but nonetheless beyond awestruck with this strange yet kind woman, they nodded, wordlessly placing their freehand in hers. Her sharp, hooked nails dug slightly into their skin; somehow, though, they couldn't be bothered to care. It didn't hurt much. On the contrary, it was oddly comforting.
       The walk was silent for a few moments, but then, Xianyun's voice demanded their attention:
       "You should pay quite the mind to your behavior in the future. Theivery is a significant offense in a land such as this—a land that regards contracts with the highest of respect. Had I withheld my intervention, it may very well have ended far worse."
       "I really didn't mean to," they whispered, little tears building up in the corners of their eyes. Even though she was someone they had only just met a few moments ago, disappointing her seemed... unbearable. Angering her would have been more tolerable. "Um... steal, that is. I didn't mean it. I just thought it looked really cool. I left whatever mora I had on me to pay for it, and I was going to try and get more so I could pay him the right amount... I swear I wasn't going to just run away with it..."
       She hummed. "Regardless of your intent, I will see to it that you do not do such a thing again."
       "Hu— huh? You will?"
       She scoffed. "Of course. Surely you did not expect me to abandon you on the side of the street again? As an elder, it is only right that I watch over little ones such as yourself, and little ones should not be cruelly left to fend for themselves."
       The tears on their lashes had dried by now. They even offered her a smile, giggling as they said, "Elder? I don't think you're old."
       "Oh? And what, pray tell, has led you to such a bold conclusion, hm?"
       "Well... you! You look very young, miss! I think elder women are very pretty too, but you look... young pretty? Um... what's the word again..?"
       "Youthful, perhaps?"
       "Yeah! Youthful!"
       As they rambled on animatedly, clutching the wooden bird to their chest, Xianyun's lips quirked upwards into an amused smile.
       It, of course, went unnoticed by them.
                       — flower of the universe !! 🌸
       In the few days that had passed since Xianyun welcomed little [Name]—they had bashfully introduced themselves to her in the middle of their rambling once they recalled that she didn't even know their name, and she returned the sentiment with greater confidence—into her home, she had put together a few simple toys for them to amuse themselves with.
       She was an inventor at heart. Even though these designs were not entirely her own, she made them hers with unique additions and more efficient features... of course, all while doing her best to keep the toys simple. They were for a child, after all. Mechanics, Xianyun's mechanics, were complicated enough for adults to understand as it was—a child would surely have even less of a capacity to grasp something too complicated, and her efforts would therefore have been wasted.
       ...But oh, how terribly wrong she now understood herself to be.
       Quietly and motionlessly, as to avoid drawing their attention, she watched with the growing warmth of fondness and excitement in her chest as the young one she took in meticulously pried open the toys she handcrafted.
       They were humming to themselves, gingerly laying out the parts in an organized manner so that nothing got lost or mixed. She was beyond impressed with the careful thought they had blatantly put into keeping track of everything; Xianyun was certain that most children would lose a small part or two, but as she surveyed their layout, she noted that every single piece—big or small, hard to overlook or easy to lose—was accounted for.
       Childish forgetfulness wasn't an inherently bad thing. In fact, it was quite amusing and endearing to those such as herself who had lived for so many millennia.
       However, she was infinitely more endeared by their sheer mindfulness.
       Their sharp gasp snapped her from her internal musings.
       "Oh— Miss... Miss Xianyun! I'm sorry, I—" They stumbled over their words, and they froze up somewhat. It was as if they wanted to hide what they had done but ultimately decided against it; she had clearly already spotted them, and they did not want to risk mixing up all the parts. "Miss Xianyun, I'm so sorry, I— I wasn't trying to destroy them, I just—"
       "—wanted to understand their internal workings, yes?"
       Their eyes went wide with that same wonderment they had displayed towards her a few days prior. "How... how did you know?"
       She almost laughed at their cluelessness. "You have taken them apart with the care and delicacy quite unusual for one of your age. This, one surmises, is only because you sought to sate your curiosity regarding these simple mechanisms and their internal functions."
       The grace with which she carried herself never failed to leave them in astonished silence. Xianyun hummed, sweeping them up into her arms as if they weighed no more than a feather (her utter, raw strength was another astounding feat in their young mind; she was so unimaginably admirable in a multiplicity of ways to them). Then, with steady caution, she kneeled to the floor and situated them comfortably in her lap.
       "Allow one to introduce you, little colt, to the basics of mechanics."
       Xianyun, they concluded, was an odd but genuinely kind woman.
       Though her manner of speech was sometimes strange and formal, and her grace seemed otherworldly in its nature, and her strength was assuredly not a feat that just anyone could achieve...
       She was tender. She was kind. She cared.
       Perhaps the world was not always so kind, but despite that knowledge, they had never felt safer than where they were now.
please consder reblogging with a kind tag or comment, it helps me out quite a lot! mama xianyun series taglist: @zeldadou, @starryshinyskies, @soleillunne, @lillonvia, @nervocat, @dragon-type-nuggetz, @starlit-dianthus. contact me non-anonymously to be added.
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bunnywritesjunk · 1 year
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Hiiii love got sent here by a lil birdie that told me you can fulfill my ghost x hybrid bunny reader request here 🥹💀💗
Honestly wanna know how ghost would handle a bratty bunny that’s going through heat, but is too stubborn to go to him about, when seriously he’s alway down to tame that insatiable lil beast inside of heerrr 😋🤞🏽
Thank you so much for writing anything period, seriously. 🐰💗
Hello my fellow bunny. I had a lot of fun writing this. I'll probably do more hybrid reader stuff if people request it. I feel like Ghost would be a bit of a meanie in this situation, he's a brat tamer for sure. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Heat, helping through heat, unprotected sex, Hybrid!reader, edging, bratty reader.
A helping Hand
Your ears twitched as the sun poured in through the window. You sat up in your cot rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. You sat up, your pajama shirt sticking to your bedding with pools of sweat. You padded off to your bathroom immediately hopping in the shower. Dull cramps in your lower stomach made you groan.
“Oh, not now. Please.” You pleaded with your biology.
You've been taking suppressants for your heat ever since you moved to this base. You gave your body a break and went off suppressants when you were on leave but this time something or someone had triggered your heat. You had a sneaking suspicion as to who it is. Being a weapons mechanic meant you didn't have to be around people very often. As long as a certain someone wasn't here you should be ok. You finished your cold shower and got dressed for the day. You tucked your ears under a cap and hid your tail in your pants. Although there were other hybrids on base, you didn't exactly want to display your rabbit features everywhere. You walked quickly to your station, avoiding any soldiers that might come your way.
You entered the weapons room and got to work. You had a few gun inspections to do. The real work wouldn't come until Ghost and his squadron came back from their mission. They were scheduled to arrive in two days, but you prayed it took them longer than that. Ghost would smell your heat, the embarrassment of having to ask him was too much. You weren't some needy bunny, you can handle your heat alone. After a few inspections were done you wrote up your paperwork for them the be cleaned and handed out for the next mission. Being engrossed in work took your mind off your impending heat.
First, you smelled him. The faint scent of Ghost. No, he wasn't supposed to be back yet. He slammed open the door unceremoniously placing all his weapons on the nearby table. Crap you kept your head down and hoped the smell of gunpowder covered your heat.
“Miss me, bunny?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. His wolf tail had a slight wag to it.
“You're back early, how was the mission?”
“Easy, mostly recon.” He sighed.
You gestured at the guns he put down. “I'll get those checked out for you.”
Ghost walked up to the counter you were behind and leaned on it.
“You had lunch yet?” He asked. You shook your head.
“Come on then.” He headed toward the door.
“I'm not that hungry, you can go without me.” You didn't meet his eyes.
“Hmm.” He slowly walked behind the weapons counter blocking the only exit.
“Is there something wrong?” He asked in a matter-of-fact tone.
“No, why would there be anything wrong?” You shrugged.
He leaned down to your level, his eyes peeking at you through blonde eyelashes. You backed up as far as you could only able to get a few more inches away from him.
“You're not a very good liar, bunny.” He stood up to his full height and walked out, leaving you flustered and hot.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rest of the day went by painfully slow. Your heat intensified after Ghost paid his visit. It came over you in waves, almost causing you to double over at times. You considered asking him for help many times but ultimately decided against it. After work was done you practically ran to your room. You'd already asked your supervisor if you could have the next few days off, explaining the situation. You opened the door and shut it quickly behind you before shedding your clothes off. Your tail ached from being hidden all day. Your fuzzy ears stretched out, one stayed straight up and the other folded down. You flopped down onto your bed eager to use your toys.
You reached into the drawer on your bedside table, only to find nothing. You sat up and searched frantically. Where did you put them? This is bad. You looked under your bed, in your bathroom, in your dresser, nothing. The frustration started getting to you. Your eyes welled up with tears as you looked. Your feet thumped in anger every time you looked and they weren't there. As you checked your bathroom for the third time a knock sounded at your door. You grabbed your robe as you were only in underwear and slipped it on. You stomped to the door and wiped your tears before opening it.
A skull mask was staring down at you. Ghost held up a familiar velvet bag and leaned on your doorframe.
“Looking for something?”
You reached up to grab the bag but he kept it out of reach.
“Give it to me, Simon!” You whined.
He pushed himself off the door and into your room closing the door behind him. The blonde shaggy tail wagged lazily behind him, clearly amused by your distress.
“Now, why didn't my bunny come to me for help?” He asked.
Your ears folded down against your head in embarrassment. “I don't need your help.”
He walked past you and put your toys back in the bedside drawer. He started taking off his gloves.
“Ok, thank you for returning them, you can leave now.” You said.
He placed his gloves on the nightstand. He turned to you, his eyes darkened. He stalked toward you slowly almost as if he was ready to pounce. You looked away from him but held your ground. He towered over you and tilted his head.
“You always were a little brat huh?” His words annoyed you.
Before you can give him a rebuttal he took his mask off giving you a full view of his scarred face. He grabbed your jaw roughly contrasting the gentle kiss he gave you. His tongue caressed your mouth open. Your knees weakened as he pulled you flush against his body by your waist. Your heat urged your body to submit, but your mind wasn't there yet. You pulled away breathlessly. He still had a firm hold on the side of your face.
“I don't need your help, Simon.” You said once again quietly.
Simon's golden ear twitched in annoyance. “Right.”
He picked you up by the hips and wrapped your legs around his waist. He walked you to your bed, embarrassment written on your face. He laid you down on the bed, pressing his hips into yours. You whimpered at the friction he created. He leaned down to nibble and suck your neck making you squirm. His hand made its way past your robe and into your panties with ease. Your wetness made it easy for him to dip his fingers into you. You gasped at the intrusion, practically melting into the mattress.
“Don't need my help, but you're so wet for me, Bunny.”
“I bet you were gonna think of me anyway.” Simon purred into your ear.
You moaned weakly as he worked his finger into you, his thumb circling your clit gently. His nose grazed your own, taking in the look of ecstasy on your face. Your orgasm came quickly and with force. Simon knew exactly what buttons to push to get you shivering under him. He unsheathed his fingers from you and popped them in his mouth, tasting your slick.
“Tell me what you want.” He demanded.
“ I...Simon..." You whined.
“Tell me, Bunny.”
You covered your face muffling your words.
“I can't hear you, love. Speak up.”
“Please help me.....through my heat....”
“That's more like it." He purred.
He opened your robe and slid your panties off. In his haste, he ripped them a bit and you whined. You ignored your small protest and worked on your bra removing it expertly.
“I'll buy you some new ones.” He said quickly.
Ghost shed his clothing and flipped you over on your stomach.
“Ass up.” He tapped your hip.
You got on your knees arching your back deeply to present yourself to him. You wiggled your ass eager to have him inside you. He used a hand to steady your hips and slid his tip in between your folds. He slowly pushed himself into savoring the way your walls clenched around him.
“Ohh, you feel so good, Bunny.” He growled.
You were almost incoherent, the daze of your heat clouding your mind. You pushed your hips against his trying to get more friction. Simon bottomed out into you and started thrusting into you hard. He kept his pace slow at first, slamming his hips into yours. His tip grazed your cervix in a deliciously painful way. You whimpered every time it did. As his pace sped up, Simon's sighs turned into grunts and moans. He enjoyed watching your fluffy bunny tail bounce as he rammed into you.
“You take me so well.” The praise he gave you made your walls flutter.
He reached around your leg to rub your clit. Your moans got more desperate and guttural as your second orgasm approached. He slowed his movements ever so slightly to drag your pleasure out longer.
“I wanna cum Si, Please.” You whined.
“Only when I tell you, Bunny. You know the rules.” He grunted out.
“And since you didn't come to me first, you need a little bit of a punishment hmm?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.
His thrust slowed, still keeping them firm. His hips slapped against your ass rhythmically. Your moans got higher pitched, his edging did a number on your heat-ridden body. Your legs trembled underneath you, the stimulation becoming more intense by the second. Luckily he didn't torture you for long.
“Cum for me.”
Simon's pace sped up and you came almost instantly. Your vision was fuzzy as you collapsed onto the bed. He bent down and caressed your head as you recovered from your orgasm. Simon rubbed your ear lovingly.
“I'm not done with you, Bunny.”
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Killing Time 2
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, includes violence, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: a job offer could be an escape from your old life, but the new one, may not hold freedom.
Characters: Kraven the Hunter, August Walker, Lloyd Hansen, James Conrad, God the Bounty Hunter, Court Gentry
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
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The interior of the car is sleek and shiny. You don’t want to touch anything as you strap the seat belt across your torso. You feel bad enough that he insists upon getting your bags in the car. When he’s at last in the driver’s seat, you relax. 
You glance out the window at the patch of grass where Jake was moments ago. He slinked away as you hid behind the tinted glass in triumph. One little victory after a year of terror. 
“So, shall we?” James asks as he turns the engine. “We’ve some ways to go,” he adjusts the mirror and glances over at you. “I know it isn’t good etiquette but I must say you look beat. It won’t bother me should you doze as I drive.” 
“Oh, uh,” you rub your cheek bashfully, “thanks, I... spent all night packing so--” 
It’s not a complete lie and you’re sure he can fathom the truth after the morning’s confrontation. Admitting it will only make it worse. You just want to leave it all behind. 
“Of course. I apologise for the short notice but thank you very much for being so accommodating,” he says. 
He shifts into gear and checks his blind spot before he slowly steers away from the curb. 
“Me? Thank you for the drive. I’m sure I’ve could have found a bus--” 
“You would assume but as I said, the location is remote and you’d still need to get from the station to the house. I don’t mind at all. I’ve not been to the manor in some time and I’m overdue to check in on it.” He explains, “I’m happy to do so with company, if I’m to be honest.” 
“Ah, okay,” you accept. You cup your hand over your mouth as a yawn rises without warning. “Mm, sorry.” 
“As I said, please, rest your eyes. We have a long road,” he says. “Oh, you won’t mind some music? Any preference?” 
“I’m not picky,” you assure him and lean back against the seat. Despite not wanting to check out, your body is screaming for sleep. Your muscles ease against the firm cushion and you can’t help a groan. “Whatever you like.” 
You turn to look out the window, watching the streets and the few pedestrians on the pavement. Your lashes flick, weighed down by the sleepless night and the peak of adrenaline. Your head lolls and you let your eyelids close. Just for a minute and you’ll open them again... 
When you stir, the car is still but idling. The engine hums and the AC flows. You look over at the empty driver seat and jolt upright. Huh? 
Your panic is curtailed as the door opens and James appears with a tray of cups and a paper bag. He smiles as he lowers himself into the car and balances it all in his lap. 
“I didn’t know if I should wake you but I grabbed some coffee. Sugar and cream if you need,” he wiggles free a cup and puts it in the holder. “And they had some lovely looking bagels--” 
“Oh,” you wipe your chapped lips with the back of your hand. “You didn’t have to—I'm sorry I fell asleep...” 
“I did expect it,” he chuckles as he hands you the paper bag. “It is your choice. I got one sesame seed and a pumpernickel. I hope that’s acceptable.” 
“Mm, pumpernickel?” You clasp the top of the bag, “thanks, that’s... that’s so nice.” 
“Not at all,” he takes his own cup as he puts the tray behind his seat. He inhales the scent through the slot of the lid. “Ah, not terrible. They had English.” He lifts the cup slightly. “How typical, yes? That I would rather tea.” 
“I don’t mind tea,” you shrug and open the bag. 
“We will eat then be back on the road. Further on, we will have something more substantial.” He explains. 
You check the first bagel; sesame, and hand it to him. You sit and unwrap your own. Before you can have a bite, you gape at the digital clock in the dashboard. 
“Holy... two hours?” You utter. 
“Oh, yes, the time breezed by,” he remarks. 
You hide a frown and bite into the toasted bagel. You feel a bit better but a glaze of dizziness lingers. You need the sleep but you’re embarrassed all the same. You shouldn’t be snoring in the passenger seat on your way to a job. After all, he’s technically your boss. 
“Really, don’t worry,” he says as if he can read your mind. 
“I’ll try not to,” you swallow. 
You finish your food with minimal conversation. You’re still a little groggy but not as tired. You manage to stay awake as he sets off again. 
You glance over at him. He’s a stranger but something about his presence is calming. So much so that you lost all wariness. After what you’ve been through with Jake, you should’ve taken a bit more time to think this through. It strikes you then that this man is taking you to some remote location, based on a single conversation... 
You shake off your suspicion. It’s Jake. That’s all. He taught you distrust. Someone you thought was your friend, turned out to be a monster. Well, they say you’re more likely to be assaulted by someone you know. Maybe it’s good that you barely know James. 
“How long were you in the city?” He asks, piercing through your inner turmoil. 
“Oh, uh, about five years,” you answer. “I... you live there or....” 
“Closeby,” he answers. “I think you can guess I’ve relocated but I do tend to hop around often. I get restless.” 
“Ah, so that’s why you need a caretaker.” 
“Essentially, yes,” he agrees. “I’ve not the ability to remain as long as I need. It was a colleague who suggested it. One of his rare good ideas.” 
“Right,” you nod. 
“Well, I trust you will keep good care of it,” he says over the steering wheel.  
The journey unravels before you. It’s further than you thought, but you didn’t really pay much attention to your destination. You’re more concerned with getting away. All the business of thinking this out can wait until you can breathe. 
As promised, you stop again to eat and relieve yourself. James girds only a few hours left. It’s taken most of the day to get this far and the road ahead is less a highway and more a rural path. You take your time eating, as much not to make yourself sick as to take a break from sitting in the car. 
Back on the road, you feel the exhaustion fall on you again. You struggle to keep your eyes open as the evening deepens. James drives towards a thicket of trees, the moonlight flickering between them. You descend into the darkness as the car thrums through the noise of crickets and swaying leaves. 
The fir thins and opens up to reveal a large stone wall and a wrought iron gate that gleams in the moonlight. The peaks of the large manor are painted silver in the night’s hue. You sit up to see it clearer. It looked big in the pictures but you’re blown away by the reality. 
“A moment,” he stops and puts the car in park.  
He gets out as you watch him through the gloom. He unlocks the gate and pulls it outward, just one side, enough to get through. He comes back and shifts gears, steering through and up the long paved drive. He kills the engine and sighs. 
“I’ll just go lock up before we do the grand tour, if you don’t mind,” he says. 
You give a noncommittal grumble as you undo your seat belt. You just want to stretch your legs. You get out parallel to him and he hurries off back toward the gate. The hinges creak loudly in the night, and eerie high-pitched noise. 
As he returns, the moon hides behind a cloud and drapes his figure in black. “We’ll fetch the bags after. It’s dark out here.” 
You’re too tired and uneasy to speak. Now that you’re here, the second thoughts begin. This man is still, at the core, a stranger. And more, you don’t exactly know where he’s taken you. You push back the doubt as another symptom of your year of torment. That was another man, not him. 
He leads you towards the front door. You climb the curved stone steps as bats flutter off in the sky. You shiver as he unlocks the door and disappears within. A light beams through on and you shy away. He beckons you inward from behind it. 
“Come,” he holds a flashlight. “We’ll need to turn the generator on.” 
“Oh, uh, of course,” you agree and step inside. 
He shuts the door as you enter and he turns to aim the light around the grand foyer. He slowly moves forward, sure to keep pace with you. You admire what you can in the shadows. The staircase that curls out at the bottom, and the carved posts that sharpen to points at the end of the banisters.  
You follow him, huddling close without thinking. It feels as if you might get lost if you stray too far. He takes you along the hallways behind the stairs and to a narrow door at the end. He opens it and shines the light down. 
“You first, I’ll keep the torch above you,” he says. 
You look down the dark staircase then at him. He angles the light and brightens the way down. You turn and take the first step, and the next. Each groans beneath your weight as you put your hand on the railing. You get to the bottom and his own steps illicit creaks. 
He nudges you as points the flashlight across the damp basement. It’s cold down there. You fold your arms as your teeth chatter. You go to the generator and he looks it over. 
“You have the most important task,” he says and flips the light in his hand, “holding the torch.” 
He offers it and you take it uncertainly. You shine it over the boxy generator and he examines it once more. 
“We only need to turn the valve here,” he points, “then the choke,” he moves a rod from left to right, “turn the ignition,” he twists, “and pull the cord.” He grunts as he tugs, “just until you feel resistance and it should--” it rumbles and clanks, then mellows out to a steady hum. “There. Now, let it run for a moment and set the choke to run...” he steps back and dusts his hands off on his pants, “there’s a manual on the shelf over there in case you need to restart it, ever. Thunderstorms are not so kind here.” 
“Oh, okay, uh, yeah. I’ll find that.” 
“Mm, yes, well, how about tomorrow? If you don’t mind, I think I’ll be in better spirits for a tour then. Then you might see it in the light of day, eh?” He suggests. “For now, we’ll find you a place to sleep and get your bags in.” 
“That sounds good,” you agree. “I am beat.” 
“Me too,” he agrees. “There’s an old kettle around, I’ve some tea in my bag. If you’re interested.” 
“Maybe in the morning,” you turn back to the stairs, steadying the sphere of light across them. “I just want to lay down.” 
“Can’t blame you,” he trails behind you. “Given the way the day started, I’m certain you’re merely happy to be away from it all.” 
“Oh...” you utter, a tinge of embarrassment nips in your cheeks. “Yeah, well, that was--- it’s over now, right?” 
“Yes, a fresh start,” he agrees as you start up the stairs and he follows closely. “I do hope you find peace here.” 
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thatanimeramenchick · 7 months
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Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 2
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Eh, what have you guys done to me. I swear, we Vox fangirls are the thirstiest on the internet right now. Also, officially, I’m making this a three part series, but that’s it. So much for a oneshot. I'll make a title for this series, eventually. Also, if you want to be tagged, please put your age in your bio.
Part One - Part Three
Triggers: Dubcon-y vibes in scenes. Violence and threatening. Read responsibly, stuff is gonna get a little dark this chapter.
Word count: 3,142
---
Vox thought you looked perfect. For once, you were wearing something decent that he bought you instead of one of the plain outfits from before you had moved in. Somehow, you had been convinced to put on actual jewelry and makeup as well. The only flaw you held was the dirty look on your face, which you refused to face towards him directly, and it only got dirtier as you downed more and more wine.
“You know, you could at least attempt to have a good time after all the effort I put into this evening,” he said, “You haven’t even touched your food.”
“Not hungry,” you said, voice ice cold. It always was nowadays.
“If you’re not in the mood for dinner, we could watch a new production I oversaw,” he said, “I think you’d enjoy it.”
You snort at that.
“I’d rather listen to Alastor’s radio program than watch any of the hot trash your production company creates,” you said.
“I’m sorry? What was that?” he said, putting a warning hint into his tone.
“You heard me,” you said, “I’ve gotta say for someone supposedly so modern, you’re still just an old man. Alastor is what? Like twenty years older than you? And you think he’s elderly? You’re practically a decrepit bygone as well. You think anyone gives a shit about cable nowadays? At least Alastor has the decency to make stuff with class and not just forgettable, cheap cash grabs.”
Against his will, he felt a circuit spurt. His hand clenched around the glass and slammed it onto the table, causing you to jump. A small noise left your mouth, as panicked as the look in your eyes was now. You looked like you knew that you had pushed a little more than you probably should have.
“You know what?” he hissed, “You think you can just talk to me like that? Fine. You wanna play rough with me? Well guess what, I’m going to fuck that bad attitude right out of you!”
“Excuse me???”
You didn’t even look scared at that just shocked and baffled, as if that had been the last thing you had expected to hear.
“You heard me!” he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you flat onto the couch, “I’m sick of you fighting me. Well, you’re not going to after this.”
“W-wait, Vox, stop-”
He smashed his lips to yours, purposefully being harsh, biting you when you tried to keep your mouth closed. When you attempted to turn your face away, he grabbed your chin rough enough where he knew it would leave a mark before kissing you harder. You pounded your fist against his chest, but he ignored it, straddling you. He eventually used his other hand to grab your wrist and push it into the couch.
He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point in your struggle something shifted in the air. Changed. You had finally stopped fighting, slowly wrapping your arm around his neck, kissing him back. It was heavenly, you finally submitting to him. Yes, yes, yes… He paused to look you in the eyes, to see your timid gaze and red face. There was still a look of anger glazed across your features, but it was fading. He brought his hand up to play at the buttons on your blouse. You looked at each other for a second longer before you initiated a kiss for once, using the arm around his neck to pull him close. Your tongue felt so hot, so right, as if your body was as electric as his own and-
Vox gasped, a spark running through his head. He woke up alone in bed, a literal hot mess. He felt like his head was overheating, running a million miles a minute, despite the fact that he should feel cold from sleep. Mixing this with the slick sweat and fluid he was covered in, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Groping for the robe hanging next to his bed, he climbed out. What a dream. He needed a second to wire down from that before trying to go back to sleep.
He picked up his phone and opened it to check on you. The camera in your room showed you curled up on your mattress, blanket half off your body and arms wrapped around one of your pillows. It pressed into your dozing face, which held a peaceful, relaxed look that he rarely saw now that you had decided to go to war with him. His finger absently stroked your image on the screen.
Why did you have to be so difficult? He didn’t know what had been the powder keg that had kicked off your little rebellion, but whatever it was, all his attempts to nip it in the bud had made you more temperamental. Clearly his irritation with your behavior had seeped into his mind enough to create some… darker fantasies deep in his sleeping subconscious.
He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything.
Besides, he already had been thinking about what to do next, to give you that little push you needed to be more agreeable.
---
Later that day he scoffed at how ridiculous his own morbid imagination was. The idea of you dressed all pimped up like one of Valentino’s whores. You barely got out of bed nowadays. If he was being honest, your imprisonment had caused your mood to swing between defiant temper tantrums and a hopelessly depressed sloth. Today, you were in the latter mood, still in pajamas that he swore you were wearing two days ago, lying on the couch and mindlessly eating as you watched some random reality show.
“Hello there, beautiful,” he said, trying to sound pleasant, “Looks like you’ve had a relaxing day.”
You glance at him for a second before looking back at the television. The blanket is pulled tighter around you, as if you were trying to hide any inch of yourself from him. Ever since his last attempt at showing his affection had ended in you headbutting him – hard – you had been particularly prickly at even the slightest hint that he might want to touch you.
“What do you want, asshole?” you said, voice lacking emotion.
Charming as always.
“Well, dearest, I was thinking. Now that you’ve had some time to think things over, I was hoping we could finally come to an agreement that would make us both happy,” he said.
“I highly doubt that’s possible,” you said.
He sat beside you, which caused you to curl your legs in tighter. You inch up on the arm a little, as if to sit as far away from him as possible without having to actually put any effort into getting up.
“We both have something that the other person wants, something that could be easily settled with a written contract,” Vox said, “You would like to be allowed to roam around this cesspool of a city and I-”
“Let me guess, it includes a whole paragraph about me never leaving your sight as well as a clause about how often you get to stick yourself in my various orifices?” you grumbled.
“You’re so melodramatic sometimes,” he said, “You always assuming the worst about people, F/N. Makes me wonder if you were double crossed a lot in your previous life.”
You don’t even respond to this, just continue to stare ahead. He’d noticed that lately you’ve been avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure how much you had figured out about his abilities, but you seemed to have pieced enough together that the more you avoided his eyes, the less direct influence he had on you at the moment. He was sure that it was one of the many reasons you were so moody lately; you stubbornly refused to be soothed by him. Regardless, whether you were trying to avoid his hypnotic gaze or not, it’s no matter. It’s not like you’re going to be able to avoid the overall influence he has over this city, especially if you spend your free time watching television he’s created.
“It’s rather tame, considering the situation you’re in. Contract or not, it’s not like you’re going to be going anywhere anytime soon,” he continued, “You’re lucky I care for you as much as I do, trying to work with you like this.”
“Hooray for me,” you said.
You really were a brat sometimes. Vox at times wondered if it was because he was too soft on you, and you didn’t realize the amount of actual power he held over you. Either that or you just didn’t care anymore. Whatever. It was all big talk because at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t do anything about your situation.
“You already have lots of benefits, which you would retain. Nice apartment, clothes, up to date tech. Besides that, you can come and go regularly, as long as you’re back here within twenty-four from when you last left. You can do whatever you want during that time. You also would be working for me a minimum of forty hours a week, with the occasional granted vacation at my discretion. That’s pretty much it, along with you occasionally being cooperative with my… desires,” he said, “So you’d have plenty of time to yourself. I didn’t put in anything that would force you to do anything too unsavory with me.”
Though he certainly would have liked to be more pushy in that department, he knew going too far could result in the kind of hate fueled relationship Valentino and Angel Dust shared. He honestly didn’t have the energy to have that much drama in his own life. Good night, he could hardly handle the drama that was in his life now. Besides, he was sure you’d come around willingly, even if it took a few centuries.
You glared at him as he finished speaking, as if to say, how generous of you.
From inside his vest, he pulls out the contract and holds it out to you.
“So, we have a deal?” he asked.
You sit up and take the paper, still avoiding his eyes. You seem to be reading it over, though your hold on it is lazy.
“… This still says you can fuck me at least once a week if you want to, or else I’m not allowed to leave the building,” you said, “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice shit like that?”
He laughed a bit awkwardly.
“I mean, I did say I would like you to be at least a little cooperative,” he said, crossing his legs, “We could wait a little while if you’d like. I mean, you’d still have more freedom than you do now, even with that minuscule restriction. You should know by now that I’m a patient man.”
You stare at it again, forehead wrinkled.
“You know what… I see where you’re coming from,” you said, finally making eye contact, “Tic for tac, eh?”
“That’s a crude way for you to put it,” he said.
You shrug.
“Crude or not, it’s the truth,” you said, a sardonic smirk appearing on your face, “You want me to give a little to get a little.”
Before he could say anything you hold up your hands with more energy than he’s seen you have in days.
“No, no, no! I understand. I’ve been in hell long enough to know how people like you work. I get where you’re coming from, I really do. I’m not stupid! So trust me, I’m being completely serious when I say that I think you should take this lovely contract of yours and shove it up your glowing blue ass!” you ripped it in half on the last word, your smile still present but a nasty look in your eyes.
Vox felt his eye twitch as you continued to smirk at him, tossing the paper at him like you would throw trash across the room. You then lie back down and turn back to the TV, ignoring him again as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened at all. Though you were attempting to pull your face back into the blank expression of earlier, he could see in your eyes a mixture of emotion, rage, yes, but also a certain smugness. What, did you really think you were tough shit for mouthing off to him like that?
He felt like his head was going to explode. Before he even registered how he was reacting, he had grabbed you by the hair and was pulled you back over.
“Ow! What the hell are you doing, Vox?” you yelled, the smug look gone from your eyes, “You’re hurting me!”
“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I’m trying to be generous to you because I actually like you, but you know what? I’ve clearly spoiled you rotten already!” he fumed.
He was practically seeing red as he dragged you over, causing you to yelp. You try to kick him, but he only grabs onto your ankle and pulls you closer to him, spinning you around so that you were pressed against the back of the couch, his arms on either side of you. His fingers are still gripping your hair, forcing you to turn your head towards him.
“You know, you’re right, who needs a contract?” he said, “I can do whatever the hell I want with you, and what are you going to do about it?”
Your voice cracked as you attempted to speak, but he didn’t pay any attention to what you were trying to say. He could feel his systems overloading with the amount of rage he was feeling, shouting over you.
“I hope you like the view from up here, because you’re staying here for the rest of your miserable eternal exist. You can work and live here 24/7,” he said, “Anything else we should change in the arrangement? You didn’t like the idea of fucking me once a week? Fine by me. Why not once a day? Twice a day? Every hour? Would you like that better? Huh? Answer me!”
As he finished speaking, he finally heard what you were saying, “-m sorry! I’m sorry, please, stop!
As he heard your pleading, he felt himself being brought back down to earth. While his rage was still present, your begging brought him back to reality, and it was finally registering how upset you were. Hysterical. Terrified. You were sobbing, more afraid of him than he had ever seen you, even on the worst days of your fighting.
“D-d-don’t hurt me. I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry! Please, don’t hurt me!”
He released your hair with a rapid exhale, and you automatically moved your head away from him, arms shielding your face. Shaking, it was sinking in just emotionally distraught you were, as well as the damage he had done to the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he had been digging his claws into the polyester, a row of gnashes beside your head. The situation was completely getting out of control. He pushed himself off of you and turned away. He didn’t even say anything, just left the room and went through the wires to his office. His head was overheating, and he was going to crash at this rate if he didn’t calm down.
Damn it! He hated how out of control you made him feel. It was pathetic. There was only one other person he could think of that made him get near as frustrated as he was feeling with you at the moment. He wasn’t the kind to act out, and here he was acting almost as ridiculous as his business partner did. The only saving grace was that Vox at least tried to keep his infatuation as quiet and private as possible.
It was more than his emotional irregularity though. The fact that he felt this way at all about you was humiliating. Affection, fondness, it was a weakness, and he knew it. Valentino got away with just having simple lust and taking what he wanted, but genuine affection demanded gentleness and tenderness. It was beyond him just not being able to do as he pleased with you, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to come to him willingly. It was the thing holding him back from just hypnotizing you into his arms or using a “love” potion, and now he had probably set any progress towards your affection back significantly.
He rubbed his forehead, which was starting to cool down a little. What was going on up there? He was going to end up doing something rash, something he regretted, if he didn’t get things under control and under control fast. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t know what. Nothing had gone how he had wanted it to. He would need to rethink his approach.
---
You spent a long time shaking on the couch, arms and blanket wrapped around you, crying. You were an idiot. Clearly your brain was turning to mush just sitting around the house all day. Did you actually think you’d be able to get away with speaking like that to an Overlord of Hell?
There had to be a way out of this place. Had to. But the more you thought about it, the more impossible it felt. Even if you did manage to get out of the building in one piece, Vox had this entire city under constant watch. Every corner of Pentagram City was crawling with his tech and media. It would take minutes if not seconds for him to find you and bring you back by force. At this point, maybe you should just sign a contract with the douchebag. Surely, he’d get bored of you eventually, right? Maybe if you got lucky he’d even get killed off one of these days in an extermination, and you’d be off the hook completely.
But how long would that take? Decades? A century or two? What if he never tired of you? Eternal death or not, you didn’t want to spend that much time living and sleeping with some psycho you hated. No. That wasn’t an option. You weren’t going to do that. But what then? You had thought he was going to literally rip your head off just a few minutes ago for telling him no. You were pretty sure things weren’t going to get less volatile around here if you kept rejecting him.
You wiped at your tear soaked face with a tissue and tossed it across the room. It’s light material just sent it floating to the ground though. It looked as pathetic as you felt.
“Damn it,” you cursed, smashing your head into a throw pillow and lying back down, “I hate this fucking place.”
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turtletaubwrites · 7 months
Text
Bend Until You Break ~ Part 1
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Thank you for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup for a Yandere!Law that the Reader goes to for help with a serious health condition, only for Law to take a liking to her... I swear I will write sweet Law one of these days, but for now please enjoy Yandere!Law. This contains !!DARK CONTENT!! so please check the warnings, and skip this one if it may be triggering or uncomfortable for you. This one's for us hypermobile baddies out there. 🥄
Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader
Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist
Word Count: 2679
Ao3 Link
Summary: You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.
Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush)
A/N: This chapter is SFW, but I'm adding in many tags to start out with since this mini series will contain heavy/dark content. PLEASE heed the tags, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃
Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional. Hopefully you'll have better luck than Reader 🙄
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
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I should just leave. He’ll just tell me the same things. It’s a waste of time. 
You were close to convincing yourself to walk away, especially as the discomfort and pain of standing in one place for so long started radiating up your body. 
The line got shorter, and you stretched and bounced, trying to hang onto a sliver of hope.
“Hello, how’s your day going?”
A talking polar bear in an orange jumpsuit waved at you from behind a small table, handing you a clipboard. 
“I-I’m well thanks. How…”
“Good! It’s always nice when the captain can help people. He’s the best! Just fill that out, and he’ll be with you soon.”
Looking at the form brought you out of the shock of speaking to a bear. Instead, it filled you with intense frustration, until you were practically boiling in your skin.
‘Rate your pain from 1-10.’
How the fuck am I supposed to rate all the different types of pain I’m in on any given day?
‘Circle the parts of the body where you are experiencing pain.’
I could put circles over so many things. Might as well circle the whole fucking chart, and have them call me a liar.
‘List your diagnoses, and family medical history.’
I don’t have one, doctors never find anything. Mom has some similar symptoms, but they're so mild that she's never tried to get a diagnosis. You’re the one who’s supposed to figure this out!
You resisted the urge to vent your anger onto the page, bullshitting your way through instead. You tried to write in the most convincing way to get this new doctor to take you seriously. 
This new doctor. “The Surgeon of Death.” A fucking pirate. 
But he was supposed to be the best, and he was here on your shitty little island for a couple of weeks, trading medical treatment for the town's supplies. You had already heard reports of “miracles,” that he could perform surgeries in an instant, that he could fix anyone. 
Please fix me.
This was it. You couldn’t take anymore trying after this. Just trying to get a doctor to listen to or believe you was almost worse than the daily pain. Almost.
“Miss Y/N? The captain is ready for you now. My name is Bepo, by the way,” the bear grinned as he took the clipboard from your clammy hands. At least you hoped it was a grin.
He handed the form back to you as he led you through the dimly lit hallways of this strange submarine. It felt like you’d entered some other realm, an underworld, on your way to strike a deal with a demon. 
As long as he can fix me…
“Here you are,” Bepo motioned as he opened a large metal door. “You’re in great hands.”
Hands. 
Hands were the first things you noticed as you entered the examination room. 
Those hands were tensed over the back of a rolling chair, gripping the thin padding as if waiting for you so he could sit down. 
Long fingers mesmerized you, tattoos etched along the back of each hand. And as you stepped into the well lit room, you saw the word “death,” spelled out across both sets of those fingers. 
The sound of his throat clearing snapped your eyes to his, your skin flushing as you realized he’d been speaking to you. 
As you realized how fucking gorgeous he was. His black hair looked a bit mussed, but it only added to the effect, along with his goatee, and his dark, pretty eyes.
Already more useful than my other doctors. Easy on the eyes. 
“May I look at your form, miss?”
‘Oh, of course,'' you stuttered, thrusting the paper toward him. “I’m Y/N.”
“Dr. Trafalgar. You can take a seat.”
Well, his bedside manner seems pretty standard, you thought with a small sigh, sitting down on the familiar crinkly paper covering the exam table. 
He circled behind you to close the door, and what sounded like a lock clicking into place had your heart rate spiking. 
“Stand up, please,” he said firmly, your form still unseen in his hand. 
“Oh, sorry. I thought you said–”
“Walk to the corner, and sit back down, please.”
His voice was unreal. You would have jumped through hoops for him anyway, praying that any doctor would listen. 
But his command seemed to curl into your brain, and you followed it immediately. 
“Why are you favoring that hip?”
“Oh, it…” 
Here’s where your credibility would fall apart. Your nails dug into your palms as you willed him to believe you.
“Sometimes if I stand too quickly, it feels loose. Sometimes it pops, and is so painful that I can’t put any weight on it.”
He stared at you for a moment, and you fought not to recite a list of excuses, to try to explain why it hurts when you’d never been injured before. 
“And your right knee?”
“Oh, it’s not bad right now. It used to swell sometimes, and was really painful. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.”
“Did you sustain any injuries?”
“N-No. None that I can recall.”
His lips quirked a bit before he reviewed your chart.
Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.
“You’ve reported your shoulders as being your most pressing concern. Why is that?”
His eyes were almost painfully sharp as he scanned you, focusing on your face as you answered him. He’d sat backwards on the rolling chair, his arms folded across the back with his legs spread wide to either side.
“They’ve been acting up recently. They often feel… loose. That’s how it feels to me. Sometimes if I move a certain way it almost feels like they pop out of place. But I can still move them after, it’s just incredibly painful. And then it’s weak, and I can barely hold anything.”
“What are some of the activities that have caused this to happen?”
He was impossible to read. But you couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be able to help you if you lied.
“Um, brushing my hair. Taking off a jacket. P-Putting a sports bra on.”
“Did you used to have longer hair?”
“What?”
“Do you keep your hair above your shoulders to prevent shoulder pain? Or does brushing it still cause issues at this length?”
“Oh. Yes, actually. I used to have much longer hair.”
“I imagine you’ve adjusted many aspects of your life to cope with this pain.” 
Warmth flowed into that deep voice, and you shivered as you watched him steeple his fingers against his lips for a moment. 
“If you are comfortable, I would like to run through a few simple movements to check your flexibility. Many of which you can do on your own, but I will check in again if you are comfortable with me touching you for the others. You can always let me know if you would like to stop.”
“Okay.”
The doctor dug through a drawer to pull out a clear measuring device, almost like two rulers connected at one end. He adjusted it, creating an angle before setting it aside. 
He never picked up the device again, and you fought not to shake. He looked at your elbows, your knees, your thumbs, your pinkies, frowning slightly as you followed his instructions.
“Now, please bend over, and try to touch your toes. Just go as far as you– hm.”
Your palms were flat on the ground, just as they’d always been able to go. You could even put the back of your hands down, and stretch them along the ground behind you if you wanted to. 
“Doctor?”
“You can take a seat.”
Wincing as you sat, you shook out your legs, feeling his eyes as he watched your every movement. 
He stood, towering over you as he came close.
“For this next part of the examination, I will be touching you with my hands, and in some cases leaning or holding parts of your body against mine so that I can check the range of motion in your joints. I may also massage certain tight muscles to help you relax as we move through the problem areas. You have quite the list for us to get through, but if at any time you wish for us to stop, just let me know. Do you understand?”
“I do,” you breathed, your face angled up to meet his.
“Do you consent to me touching you?”
His voice came out softer once again, and you couldn’t hold in a shiver as you consented.
Those fingers…
His long fingers were so gentle as they crept across your body, testing, pushing, pulling. You fought to listen to his commands, pushing against or holding your body how he told you. 
“I imagine that seeking treatment has been challenging for you,” he rasped as he leaned over your face, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders. 
The pain and pleasure of his hands testing you had brought up a strangely emotional pressure, almost like tears in your throat.
“It has.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be incredibly difficult to suffer so much pain, and not be believed.”
You started to nod to keep your voice from cracking, but he pressed his fingers into your skin just a bit.
“Can you keep still for me,” he whispered, and it sounded so close that you opened your eyes.
“Just relax,” the doctor soothed as he stepped away, pulling a few tissues out to press against your cheeks and temples, catching the tears that had spilled when you’d opened your burning eyes.
“I’m sorry, doc–”
“No need to be sorry, Y/N. You have been suffering, been living with pain for years. It’s all those doctors that left you like this that should feel ashamed.”
His fingers had returned to your body, still relaxing, and testing.
“Thank you, doctor.”
“Please, call me Law.”
He was pressing gently along your collarbones as his name rolled over you, a small sound escaping your throat as you melted beneath him. 
“Do you have a good support system? People in your life that can help you with this?”
“I mean, my mom and my boyfriend help me. They’re supportive.”
He took those fingers away, and you mourned them, wishing you could feel that soothing touch forever.
“I’m going to test your hips now, Y/N. Please tell me if you experience any pain.”
“Okay,” you agreed, feeling self conscious of your breathy voice. His words just kept pouring over you, his voice so relaxing, so good. 
“How does that feel, Y/N?”
“Fine.”
He had your leg stretched along his torso, your foot dangling over his shoulder. You clamped your eyes shut. The sight of him between your spread legs, pushing your leg toward you, had you biting your lip, trying not to make any more embarrassing noises. 
“How’s this?”
“Fine.”
He hadn’t gotten close to your limit, but he went agonizingly slow. You could feel his firm abs warming your thigh through your clothes, his thin shirt not doing much to keep the press of him at bay. 
“You said that your mom and your boyfriend support you. How do they do that?”
“Oh, uh,” you shook your head, trying to focus on the question, and not the gentle rocking motion he’d started as he pushed you even further.
“They help me when… They help me when I’m having bad days. They listen. They both do little different things when things are bad.”
“How’s this?”
“Still fine.”
“You can go further?”
“Yeah, I can–,” you had reached for your thigh, planning to pull it toward your chest to show him, but his eyes above you stopped you before his voice did. 
“I’ll get you there, Y/N. You can hurt yourself if you rush. Can you take it slow for me?”
“Perfect,” he praised when you nodded, still gently rocking your body forward and back as he pushed, finally reaching the limit. 
“That is quite the range of motion,” he noted, carefully laying that leg down to move to the other side. “May I?”
He set himself up again, moving slow as he used his body to stretch you.
“You said that they help you on bad days, is that right?”
Meeting his sharp eyes, you took a minute to understand.
“Yes, they do.”
His face tilted a bit as he pressed closer. He started that gentle rocking motion, almost thrusting against you to help your body relax. 
“But Y/N, from what I’ve seen today, it seems like all of your days are bad. Aren’t they?”
“I…”
“All these years with no one to believe you. It must be hard to believe yourself sometimes. Do you think they really believe you, Y/N? Do they believe how much pain you’re in as you struggle through each day? As you stand up too fast, or brush your hair? Do you think they understand?”
He’d pushed closer, looming over you as he held your thigh against him. 
“Why are you–”
“I need to make sure that my patients have the support systems they need.”
His voice had smoothed back now, from almost heated to cool and detached.
He’s the only person that’s ever seemed like they understand. He must believe me. Of course he would be passionate about it, he’s a doctor. A doctor that believes me.
Closer and closer, his eyes watching yours.
“Do they believe you?”
“I think,” you started, eyes wide as you fought more tears, “I think they try to believe me. They just… They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.”
“How’s this?”
“It’s fine.”
“Alright, last push.”
Your thigh was pressed between your bodies, and he stayed there.
“Does this hurt, Y/N,” he rasped, his breath warming your face. 
“No.”
He helped you stretch your leg out on the table, sitting backwards in the rolling chair before he told you to sit up.
“I believe I understand the cause of your pain, and why you’ve had a difficult time obtaining a diagnosis.”
“Can you fix it?”
Your thrill of excitement got caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, his palm up to halt your questions. 
“I believe it may be a connective tissue disorder, which would explain your hypermobility, as well as the complications you’ve had with many parts of your body. You've already met the criteria for one type based on our examination today. I would like you to come back tomorrow so that we can review more of your symptoms to be sure, and to discuss treatments.”
“You can do surgery, right? Can you fix it?”
You had gestured to him, your body panicking with failing hope. A gasp left your throat as those tattooed fingers caught your hand, his thumb rubbing over your skin as his voice went low.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. This is not a condition that can be cured,” he confessed, squeezing your hand as your body slumped. “Connective tissues run throughout our entire body, and if I am correct, yours may be weaker than most. 'Loose,' as you said. Unfortunately, there is no known way to repair or replace those tissues.”
A weight fell over you, and you found yourself not quite in your body. Your body that you’d fought so hard to fix.
That can never be fixed.
The doctor pressed your hand between his, smoothing over and warming your fingers until you were present enough to meet his eyes.
“It may not be curable, Y/N, but it can be managed. You don’t need to suffer alone in such pain like you have been. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that things are better for you. Do you trust me?”
There was something so intense about his face. The way he looked at you felt heavy, like he really did see the weight you’d carried all these years. You sank into those gray eyes, and realized you did.
“I trust you, Doctor.”
“Please. Y/N,” he hummed, releasing your hand, “call me, Law.”
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Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Welcome to my frustration with the health care system 😅
Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel
Part 2
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| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
398 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 1 year
Note
hii!!! so i was wondering if you could do a one shot that’s inspired by either false god by taylor swift where spencer and reader are just worshiping each other? thank you <3
Hi! I'm not much of a swiftie, so I've never heard that song before I sat down to write this but it was perfect inspiration for a fic! I hope you enjoy it 💕
Warnings: Case details mentioned, typical CM violence, angst-adjacent confrontation with happy ending, hurt/comfort, heavy petting, oral (F receiving), squirting (implied), vaginal sex, implied creampie (no birth control mentioned). 2.2k words. Based on:
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It was when the door to your hotel room slammed shut that you knew there was finally going to be a confrontation. Combing a hand through your hair, you threw your bag down and turned to look at Spencer. He stood there, just watching you from the door, his jaw tense as he struggled to break the silence and actually talk to you the way you knew he wanted to. 
“Spit it out, Spencer. If you’re going to push your way in here, you might as well say what you want to say.” You were frustrated and his silence was only making the fatigue from a day on a tough case worse. “Come on, Spencer, I don’t have all day.” 
“Do you want to die?” His voice held steady when he finally let out the words, and they hit you like a succer-punch. “Because what I saw out there today seemed like someone more than happy to put themselves in harm's way for no reason.” He stepped closer to you as he said the words, and you felt yourself grow hot. You just weren’t sure if it was from shame or anger. 
“Don’t profile me, Reid. I knew what I was doing.” You turned your back on him and began to go about your business, hoping that he would drop it and vacate the room as quickly as he’d stormed in. 
“You tried to take a bullet for me. Y/N, I was in the middle of talking him down, and you pushed me out of the way and forced his hand.” 
“So will the thank you card be delivered in the post, or can I expect it on my desk tomorrow?” You still wouldn’t make eye contact with him, thinking back to the events of the day. 
You’d known the plan all along was to have Reid talk the suspect down while you got his last victim to safety. Everything in the profile pointed towards the unsub being a loner, someone with narcissistic personalities who you knew wouldn’t end up shooting his way out. Someone that had acted with a cold violent misogyny in his crimes, and someone who would not respond well to a female agent trying to get through to him. You knew all that and you still couldn’t help yourself. 
“In this world of ours, Agent, men like you and I should be Gods. It’s my right to take that power for myself,” the man had said, holding his hostage in his arms as if she were a ragdoll, carefully watching every movement you and your team made. Morgan and Emily had the back entrances covered should he try to run, and Hotch, Rossi and JJ were coordinating with the backup SWAT team outside, should he gain any miniscule upper-hand in the situation. 
It was when Reid started talking to him again that you felt the bile rise in your throat and your body stop listening to your rational thoughts. He was giving the man everything he wanted to hear; stroking his ego, complimenting him, agreeing with him, and the man was responding as well as you could hope. 
But something was wrong, and it was clear from the moment that he levelled his gun in the direction of Spencer and released the female victim that something was about to go horribly wrong. 
“I think I was wrong, actually. We both cannot be Gods, can we?” He laughed as he said this, and you froze up instantly. Your only regret was probably that you forgot to go and check on the victim sitting on the floor, your eyes watching on in horror instead as your body through itself in front of Reid just as the unsub was ready to pull the trigger. 
The push had knocked the two of you off-balance. But the unsub was slack-mouthed and caught off-guard. He hadn’t even pulled the trigger yet, and now here the two of you were sitting pretty for him on the floor of his dump site waiting for him to put a bullet through your brains. He didn’t have the chance to, the SWAT sniper getting the orfer to open fire the second you’d strayed from protocol. 
Spencer still hadn’t left your room, his anger and frustration rolling off of him in waves. You moved about the room in an organized frenzy, completing your nightly rituals with as much obvious frustration as you could muster. You dropped your gun and badge on the nightstand, pulled off your jacket and mindlessly rooted through your bag looking for nothing in particular, praying that Spencer would walk out of the door and not force you to face your stupid decisions. 
Instead he grabbed your wrists, spinned you around and pushed you against the wall, forcing your eyes to meet with his as he pinned you there. 
“Stop fucking ignoring me,” he growled out in a low-voice. The sudden burst of movement had you both gasping for breath and you just stood there quietly again for a few seconds, breathing each other. You gave in first and rested your head against the wall, letting him force your eyes up to meet his.
“Ask me the question you really want the answer for, Reid. Because we both know I’m not suicidal.” 
“Why won’t you let me keep you safe?” his voice came out in a small whimper now, his body weight slowly pressing up against yours as he moved to rest his forehead on your head. The two of you stood there suspended in time, just lost in the feel of each other, the pressure and the heat from his body in contrast to the sharp cool of the wall at your back, and you silently begged him to make a move. But he was determined to get you to answer, holding his tongue when all you wanted him to do was crash his lips against yours and help you to fill yourself with him. 
“Because I do not want to be safe in a world without you,” you finally confessed. He lasted only a few seconds with that answer hung between you before he gave you what you wanted. 
His lips were cracked and dry but he was warm and sweet and you instantly received him, desperate to pull him so close that he could never leave. Your lips crashed together again and again, as if desperate to stretch your first kiss into your first ten, twenty, one hundred. He dropped your wrists after an eternity, only to greedily run his hands up and down your waist, snaking around you so tight that you gasped and let his tongue in. 
He explored you with his entire body, his mouth pressing into you messily his hands roaming desperately trying to map the plains of your body, like knowing you would be his salvation. You did the same, gripping his sweater with balled up fists and forcing him closer into you, unwilling and unable to let him move away. 
He gently walked you to the edge of the bed, not straying from his ministrations for even a second, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you were falling. But he was falling with you, and so you didn’t care, 
He finally pulled away from you then, raising himself up onto his arms and looking down on you like you’d personally put the stars in the sky. 
“Have you ever stopped to think for a second that I’d hate any world without you in it as well?” Shifting his weight, he bought his hand down to cup your cheek, then let his finger ghost over your neck and down to the swell of your breasts as he moved to undo each button of your blouse tantalisingly slow. 
“Give me the word, and I will worship you. I will show you exactly what you mean to me. Just give me the word and I will let you know peace.” You whimpered out a breathy ‘yes,’ and he was on you again in seconds, with a renewed passion. 
Your blouse was discarded in seconds as his tongue traced its way down to your breasts in sloppy open-mouthed kisses, and still the only sound that filled the room was your desperate pants. Your hips rolled up against his as he pulled you up to discard your bra, his tongue finally landing on your painfully erect nipples. He tweaked and teased, moving between them languidly, and you were content to have him stay there forever. 
He obviously had further plans though, and he moved lower still, kissing down to your navel and lifting your hips just enough for you to shimmy them down your legs and discard them quickly. And then there he was, just sat with his head resting in between your legs, pressing sweet kisses to the insides of your thighs and looking deeply into your eyes as he worked his way closer and closer to your core. 
Your panties were slick to your skin, so when he made his first drag of his tongue up your slit, it was with the beautiful added friction of the lace against you. He buried his face in your core then, and started licking and sucking and devouring you like a man starved, like you were nectar from the heavens and your attentions could grant him immortality. 
Even with the panties interrupting any direct contact, you could feel your need for him bubble up to your boiling point, and you squeezed your thighs around him, suffocating him in your first release. He pulled your legs apart again, taking the time to remove your panties now before pinning your legs apart again and returning to his last supper. 
He sucked, nipped, kissed you again, one hand pressed firmly against your hips to pin you down as you bucked and writhed in your sensitivity. His face was slick with your juices, as he thrust his tongue in and out of you now, using his nose to press into your aching clit. 
He worked tirelessly, desperate to shower you with all the attention he wanted to give you, and you gasped and moaned and whined back to him, like a goddess whispering affirmations in the ears of her most devout follower. 
It was understandable when your second orgasm hit, then, and he found himself flooded with your juices, doing his best to ride you through this time and taking in as much of you into his mouth as possible. When he finally pulled away, your legs were twitching and your eyelids heavy, but with your remaining strength, you cupped his cheeks and bought his face up to yours. He face glistened with your cum, his lips now plump and shining, and you pulled him down to you, aching with the desire to taste yourself on his tongue. 
“I’m going to keep you safe and hold you like this until you understand that I am not capable of living without you, do you understand?” he whispered in your ear when he finally pulled away, and you let the tears that had been building up fall finally as he pressed one final kiss to your lips before moving away to rid himself of his clothes. 
You were crazy to think that you would ever be able to turn your back on this man, that he would ever walk away from you and leave you alone. As he returned to you you held out your arms open to him, and he fell into them. It was a home-coming, a return to the palace the both of you belonged, wrapped up in each other like that. 
Still weak from his earlier attentions, he helped you move your legs to wrap them around him, as you twined your arms up and around his neck, pulling him in for a deep and passionate kiss as he pushed despairingly slowly into you. 
You winced as you adjusted to his size and he pressed chaste kisses along your neck as you got used to him, whispering between each one. 
“You’re beautiful,” your neck. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met,” your jaw. “I will spend my entire life in awe of you,” the corner of your mouth. 
When you were ready you finally blinked your eyes open and pushed your mouth into his, and he finally began his movements. Rocking his hips gently into yours, the two of you were in no rush to consume each other, savoring the feel of your coupling. You finally understood the meaning of calling the act making love - never before had you felt so cared for, so loved and desired as you did in that moment with Spencer Reid. 
You felt him getting closer and closer to bliss when he started picking up his pace slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his body heavy with the weight of his love for you. 
“I love you,” you gasped out as you felt him shudder inside of you, letting him hear the words just as he was tipped over the edge. Even though it was the first time you’d voiced the words so clearly outloud, you felt no panic, no anxiety at having made a hasty decision. It felt right, it was right. 
And you were going to keep telling this man, who worshipped you so wholly, as often as you could from this day forward,so help you god. 
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obsessive-valentine · 5 months
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What if when farmer takes his monthly shopping spree with reader stuck sitting in the car they decide that they’re close enough to others to finally escape or tell someone about their situation with farmer.
Escape - Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader
Content waning! This isn’t one of my usual soft yans -A lot of threats, gaslighting, acts of and -even more thoughts of- violence and murder. Our usually stoic farmer has reached his wits end when his anger issues are triggered once again and he’ll be sure darling won’t have the gall or means to even think of doing such a thing ever again.
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He’d try not to escalate the situation if he didn’t have to but he is capable of murdering your wanna be saviour if it comes down to it, then hiding the body in the pick up truck bed till he gets home to feed it to the dogs.
He tries to contain his anger on the car ride back, until he can put darling away in the shed and have a day or two to reset and calm down, then he goes into victim blaming, fear mongering and gaslight mode to scare darling back in place and will continue doing this for a few days until darling is sure to not even think of such an act again.
Even though there’s no way for them to escape now since he refuses to take darling with him into town for a long long time, instead he locks them in the shed when he has to go into a town.
-fic under the cut -
...
He’d warned you that afternoon before you both got in the old pick-up truck “you’re not to leave the truck, you hear me? If I see you so much as to look out the window to another person there will be hell to pay” he locked the front door of the house and you nodded to yourself. You weren’t sure if you should be exited or nervous, you weren’t sure you wanted to go at all.
Part of you excited to see a town and real people, you’d been isolated with just animals and a kidnapper for so long you’d long given up hope of living a mundane small town life. But all this raised another problem, the temptation to escape. You’d be trapped in the truck alone for some time so you must be able to escape at some point, but if that fails, you’d hate to think what he’d do to you. He has a nasty temper.
Most the ride was landscapes and bumpy roads, you knew it’s impossible to walk all this way but you’ve thought about it before, you’d run as far as you could and then lay down on one of the country roads when you get to exhausted and hope someone (other than him) finds you. But you’d never get passed the dogs, it was still devastating to be reminded how far from the towns you were.
The closer to the town you both got houses started popping up, quaint little cottages with pretty little gardens and fences. You day dreamed what it would be like to live there with a loving husband and a happy little family, maybe you’d keep chickens in the back and drive into town for work in a flower shop or small caffe.
You stopped yourself before you became to attached to a life that not yours to live, instead you continued to toss around the idea of escaping, running through dozens of possibilities and outcomes. Still unsure if you’d have the gall to follow through with any of them.
...
The sky was getting dim by the time town houses began popping up, the town is quieter than it would have been in the afternoon. Though you presume that’s what your kidnapper wanted, you’d gathered that he’s pretty antisocial. But some people were out. You felt the atmosphere in the truck get tense the further into town you both got and remember his warnings, so you kept your head down and listened to the radio instead.
He pulled into a quiet parking lot in and he parked in a far corner, he unbuckled his seat belt and for a moment you thought he was just going to leave without another word. But he turned to you, the most serious you’ve seen him “do you want anything?” The question caught you off guard and sat like a gaping fish for a second.
You blurted out one of your favourite sweets. Maybe you could get him to spend more time in there looking for it, giving you more time to escape. He nodded like he was taking a mental note, and then as if he could read your mind he said “I’ll be quicker than you think, be good” he seemed to search your eyes for something before hesitatingly locking the door and walking away.
You watched him enter the shop and immediately tried the door handle even though you heard him lock the car, it’s one of those old pick-ups with a separate key for the door so there was no other way to unlock them. Then you began rummaging through the draws and pockets for anything that could help, maybe a phone, a spare key to the door or engine maybe something capable of breaking the window. It was far fetched and knew you wouldn’t find anything but you’d regret it if you didn’t try.
At some point you refocused your attention, you needed to have someone help you. Finally a person left the store and almost got in their car until they heard your yelling and banging on the window. Your voice was muffled by the glass, so they started to hurry over closer to the car but suddenly stops walking and turns their head away. You follow their gaze and there stands you kidnapper.
He’s smiling at him carrying a few bags, you can’t catch what he’s saying but he seems to be explaining an excuse. You must have misjudged the time, there’s no working clocks or watches in the car so between you loosing track of time and him being a fast shopper, he’s caught you out. And you’ve never felt so sick as the blood drained from your face.
He walks closer to the truck and places the bags in the back before pulling the tarp over the bed, they continue talking but the person doesn’t seem convinced by whatever words he’s muttering. Hope still lingers but fear and regret is quickly taking over, making you shake and nauseous.
“Look it’s nice to meet you but we really need to get home” your kidnapper smilies while he opens the door, it’s so fake it makes you cringe, he’s never sounded to polite or looked so friendly. You want to shout out for help but the door shuts -and before you can process what’s happening you hear a click and a pocket knife is pressed to your thigh.
“Smile and wave at him before we leave or i slice these pretty thighs open” he growls through his teeth, using the other hand to turn on the engine and put the truck in gear. You feel the knife dig into your thigh harder “go on then, look happy -or I stop this car, kill your little saviour and take the back to the farm and give the dogs a little treat, the bloods on your hands honey” the knife drags an inch...he’s loosing his patience.
You’re out witted and out muscled. You’re sure that you and that innocent person will be dead within the hour if you didn’t give him what he wanted. You give a weak little wave and forced tight lipped smile, they seem reassured by the gesture and hesitantly walks back to their car after your kidnapper gave them another little wave. A fair well. There goes your saviour. “Good choice” he’s fuming still but withdraws the knife and races out of town back on the country roads.
A few drops of blood trickles off your thigh and onto the seat, and you begin to feel the sting after a few minutes of shock. It’s deathly silent, you see his hands grip the steering wheel turning his fingertips white and palms make the leather creak when he readjusts his tight grip.
He wasn’t one to be quiet when he’s angry, he’s usually very verbal when he’s angry and quiet when he’s content. You spent so many weeks studying his behaviour and facial expressions -to predict him -and now you’re as confused and afraid as the first time you met him. You’d never seen him act like this.
You didn’t dare speak first, instead you watched the town disappear from the corner of your eye as you stared at the footwell like a guilty dog. You didn’t dare move a muscle keeping rigidly still, gripping the leather seat beneath you.
He dragged a hand down his face, before letting go of a frustrated sigh. He was struggling to keep focused on the now bumpy country roads, he felt his burning anger in every inch of his body. “You had to go ruin all that progress, i was foolish for believing you knew your place? hu?” He spoke low, you could hear the snarl and imagined his crazed eyes. You still couldn’t lift your sorrowful gaze from the footwell, so you couldn’t confirm that.
“ANSWER ME YOU BRAT!” You flinched and your heart felt like it stopped for a moment before starting again at a much faster rate “ARE YOU TRYING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED?! IT FUCKING SEEMS LIKE IT” you knew what he meant, he’s a slave to his temper and there’s a possibility you could fall victim to it -no matter how many times you try console yourself that he’s held himself back from harming you physically many times before.
“-I’m sorry” was all you could choke out, your not sure anything you say would calm him down -it would likely make his temper worse. He went quiet once again, acknowledging the apology with a slight nod and a heavy huff. He tried to contain himself during the rest of the ride back, but the tension was thick and his anger still yet to die down even a bit. His hands still heavy on the wheel, the hour journey was cut almost in half with how he was speeding, and occasionally he’d shoot degrading comments.
He needed to get home, he needed space and time to process what you’d done. He’s utterly fuming with rage but not hate, that’s what was saving you from him pulling over the car and violently ‘correcting’ you right there, he had to remind himself that he’d regret hurting you, that he still loves you.
...
The car was haphazardly parked in the dirt drive next to the house and he, without a word, left the car and slammed the door. A few dogs came over to investigate and greet their owners but it seemed even the dogs could sense the tension and kept their distance and stopped wagging their tails. They were there to witness him storm around the front of the car and swing your door open.
“Get out” his tone threatening as he glared down at you, you struggled to unbuckle your belt, your fingers shaking. You stumbled out the car when your legs failed you, they felt like jelly. He slammed the door before taking your wrist firmly in his hand before pulling you behind him, he’s walking so such pace and intent -paired with your jelly like legs- that you stumbled a few more times.
You caught on pretty quick that it was the shed that you both were headed to. “I’d asked one thing of you, well you’ve really fucked yourself over now darlin’” dread clouded your rational thinking, your steps faltered and in instinctively tried pulling your arm away as you pleaded with him.
He didn’t even glance back at you, instead replied with a harsh pull on your wrist -he continued storming towards the shed. He ignored his as he unlocked the chains and pulled the wooden latch, he gave no sympathy as he pushed you into the shed, then showed no hesitance as he shut the door.
“You better get used to this shed, I’ll leave you in there forever if that what it takes to teach you” you could hear his temper unraveling, uncontrollable hate dripping from his words. The locks all slid into place and he left. Leaving you in the dark, sitting on a generous layer of hay, in tears and regret.
Light only source of comfort was the dim light of the evening creeping through the wood cracks and the occasional dog coming over shoving their wet nose against the door, sniffing for you, wondering why you’re in there. But even that faded as the day went on, the light disappeared with the sun and most the dogs sleeping on the covered porch and barn or guarding the livestock. One or two slept outside the shed it it was little comfort when you couldn’t see, hear or feel them.
Instead the shed turned pitch black you could have sworn your eyes were closed, the darkness brought bitter cold and goosebumps. The bugs in the hay crawled around sometimes tickling your leg, you’d grown used to bug having been on the farm for a while but this brought great discomfort due to the fact you could no longer see where or what was crawling around.
You kept reminding yourself that any minute now he’d be back, that how it went the other times you found yourself here. He’d leave you in the shed for a few hours then return usually before midnight to give you a calm ultimatum, he’d still be angry but willing to work through it with you.
Hope began to fade as what felt like hours passed, your toes and fingers became numb so you pushed them into the bug infested hay for some warmth to stop the burning cold. Eyelids grew heavy from exhaustion and burned from the crying. You’re sure you’ve never been left in here for this long but held onto hope that it was just bad time perception from the exhaustion. You went from preparing yourself for when he returned to desperately hoping your kidnapper would return.
All hope left after you’d blinked awake from a uncomfortable short nap to find yourself still in the shed. You pressed you’re face against the shed and peered through the crack to see the sky turn from black to a dark blue. It was almost dawn, you’d entered at dusk and been left here all night. Legs stung from bug bites, fingers and toes ached from the cold, everything itched from the cold, eyes and ears ached from the dark and deafening silence.
...
He’d left you in the shed without looking back and stormed into the house, he’d allowed his anger to boil over now you were out of grasp. The door slammed shut as he dropped his keys on the small table in the entry way, only to then letting his intrusive anger win and swipe everything off the table after seeing some of your items left there. Your items -one being a beloved pan of paint you’d left there after coming inside after painting the landscapes outside, his keys and a decorative pot now lay on the floor, he stepped over most while some others crunched under his heavy boots.
He stormed into the living room and shrugged off his jacket leaving it on the floor, he lit a cigarette and paced the room. For most of the evening he paced, ranted-shouted, smoked and shoved items that reminded him of you onto the floor or out of view. He even put a few fist holes in the walls and considered taking his hunting gun out to blow of some steam but decided it’s not best to hold a gun when he’s angry and around you.
He settled down in the night on the sofa with the tv muttering in the background as he stared into nothingness, taking a drag from one of many cigarettes. Finally his temper under control, finally he could think clearly... for the most part. How stupid he feels for trusting you, obviously you need more structure and punishment,
Much like you he didn’t sleep much, at some point in early ams he left the house back to the truck to bring in the shopping having nothing better to do. He was forced to walk through the house that he’d wrecked, there was one of your favourite painting pallets cracked on the floor, the vase of flowers you picked dumped out in the sink and some of his own stuff that he’d dumped or kicked in odd places while he paced.
He didn’t feel bad about breaking what little marks, through decor and personal items, you’d left in his house during the few months you’d been here, but rather disappointed in himself that he let his anger blind him.
That night was odd for him, it’s been a while since he was completely alone at night. And while his past self loved being isolated, he realised that he changed because of you. He found the quiet unsettling, and had to self-sooth and remind himself that you were just outside, that you weren’t some dream or temporary part of his life.
By the time morning came most anger had cleared, his jaw still felt tense and so with his furrowed brows and stiff posture. But as much as he hate to admit it at the risk of sounding dependant, being separated for the night and the thought of you not being around had forced him into forgiving you. He no longer kept you in the shed out of anger and inability to look at you without wanting to cause hurt, but now it was to teach you a lesson, so maybe in the future he won’t have to do it again... so he won’t loose you.
He spent the morning cleaning the mess, putting aside your cracked pan of paint to fix later when you’ve earned it back and dumping out the cigarette tray -after being reminded of how many he went through he made a mental note to lay off them for a few days to make up for it.
He let the whole day pass, now and then staring out a window at the shed tossing around the idea of letting you out. Be deciding he wasn’t ready, the last thing he wants is to open the door and re-ignite his anger. By the evening he put aside his grudge and chose not to let you bare another night in the cold. (But really he can’t bare another night alone)
...
You began to worry when the sun got low again, your stomach ached from hunger, you had a bat case of cotton mouth from thirst and stress, you’d also began biting your nails and your heart would pick up the pace randomly along with waves of dread and anxiety.
The bug bites itched and everything ached from staying in one place for over 24hours, you went as cold as last night but you knew the temperatures were going to drop once again and soon.
You hear the sound of his heavy boot crunch closer and closer. Your heart races again, your eyes wide as saucers and staying still as can so your ears can pick up any noise. You’d been begging for him to come back, hoping and crying but now he’s here you can’t help but dread it, wishing you had a minute more to compose yourself.
But beggars can’t be choosers, the chain rattles then the wooden latch is lifted and there infront of you is your kidnapper “you going to behave?” His voice is hoarse and seem tired by his tone, you can’t really see his face to confirm, he’s backlit and the light is hard on your eyes despite the sun being low. But you can imagine the bags and deep scowl.
You squint and desperately nod “I’m sorry -please” overwhelming feelings make you tear up again -your voice also sore and a stuffed nose from the crying messes up the delivery of the general apology/plea, but he seems to understand. “Do you understand what you’ve done? How you’ve put everything back to square one -no, into the negatives, you’re going to have to earn everything back because of one idiotic decision, understand?” He stands tense in the doorway looking down on you, so very belittling. He offers no sign of sympathy for your tears, bruises or fear.
But anything to get out of here “I’m sorry, I’ll be better, please I promise... please” he didn’t reply but just looked over you before scooping you up and taking you back to the house. As much as he frightened you and he was scarily quiet, you found comfort in his arms.
“Actions have consequences, when I need to go into town you’ll be locked in the shed, you can’t be trusted to control basic urges so I simply won’t give you the opportunity to fuck up” he begins as he enters the house, your gut twists at the thought of being locked in the shed again. “Please don’t, I’m sorry I don’t wa-“ he stops walking and your pleads are cut off
“I don’t care what you fucking want” his voice began to rise but he catches himself and huffs “you made your choice now live with it” he says with more control, he’s to exhausted to argue. He makes his way into the bathroom and sets you down on a counter as he runs a bath.
He beckons you to strip and get in the bath, you do just that and the hot water burns against your cold limbs, he sat down beside the tub and grabbed your face not gently but no where near as hard as he could “I would have killed that saviour of yours then make you live in that shed till your nothing but a husk of a person, is that what you want?” Your eyes widened and shook your head, when your words caught in your throat.
“I thought not” he lets go and you quickly avert your eyes, like making eye contact with a wolf, it’s certain doom. “This is merciful, you will be in the shed uncomfortable now and then, and no leaving the farm. I’m angry, disappointed and won’t be giving everything to you on a golden platter anymore but you can earn back trust, we can get back to where we were”
You sit uncomfortably, and you want to laugh at the ‘merciful’ statement. “You won’t make such a silly mistake again. You’ll listen to me from now on, won’t ya darling? You don’t want to get yourself or anyone else hurt do ya?” His hand that rested on your shoulder now unnervingly grips it but losses when you reply in favour for him.
He lays off the threats and fear mongering for the rest of the night. Once tense and quiet as he tried to control his anger issues he now is calmly quiet. He lets you eat before putting you to bed, he’s unusually close throughout the night, whereas he usually keeps his own space.
One arm lays over you and every time you shuffle he does too, waking up a bit and making sure your still there, not causing trouble. Just like how he acted when you first were kidnapped, it’s back to the start, no dignity, and a shit ton of emotional manipulation.
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nicoline1998enilocin · 11 months
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Mirror mirror on the wall...
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PAIRING | FWB!Loki Laufeyson x FWB!Avenger!Female!Reader
WORD COUNT | 1.4K
SUMMARY | You don't see Loki that often, but when you do, it is always filled with nothing but lust. When he finds out about the latest addition of a life-size mirror in your room at the Compound, he can't help but have some fun with it and make you fall apart around him simultaneously.
WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Friends with benefits, use of pet name (Gorgeous), smut (mirror sex, masturbation - F receiving, fingering, protected sex, squirting, implied aftercare).
A/N | I want to dedicate this fic to @avengersfantasies, who's a big fan of the God of Mischief, just like myself. (Surprise! 🫣) I hope you will enjoy the route I took with this because it was a lot of fun to write 🖤
Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚
Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | GIF credit to @marveladdicts
Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist | Part 2
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You started a friends-with-benefits arrangement with Loki a few years ago but didn't see each other often. Between you being gone for extended missions and him constantly being needed on Asgard, there hasn't been much time spent in his arms, fucking each other until you can't think straight.
Today, however, you're lucky to have Loki all for yourself for a couple of hours, and both of you plan to make the most of it, especially when Loki notices the new life-sized mirror in your room.
''Hm, I see you got a new addition to your room; maybe we should put it to good use,'' Loki whispers in your ear as he stands in front of you, letting the silk robe on your shoulders slide down, revealing the emerald green lingerie you wore just for him.
The warmth of his breath ghosting over your ear makes you feel goosebumps, and you let out a small sigh as you feel his hands follow the fabric down your arms.
The silky fabric reaches the floor with a soft thud, and Loki can't help but smile as he sees you wearing his signature color; it compliments your skin beautifully.
''Did you do this just for me, Gorgeous?'' Loki asks between kisses trailing from your neck and shoulders down to your breasts before pushing you back onto the bed until you're seated at the edge.
When you're seated, he takes a step back and waves his hand once, and suddenly, the beautiful lingerie adorning your body has vanished, leaving you bare in front of him.
''I doubt I'll ever get enough of seeing you laid out like this in front of me,'' he whispers before removing his clothing as well, unable to wait any longer.
When you see his thick, long, throbbing cock, your mouth instantly waters, and your cunt starts dripping at the sight. There's never been a moment you've needed him more than you do right now.
''Spread those thighs for me and play with that perfect cunt of yours, Gorgeous; let's take a good look at how well you're spreading those folds for me,'' he says, and his fingers under your chin guide your sight to the mirror in front of you.
You do as he says as your fingers slide through the wetness and gather some of it before you find your clit and start rubbing slowly. Your head falls back against his shoulder from the pleasure, your back arching at the sensations.
''Loki, please, I want your fingers inside of me,'' you beg, your eyes trained on him through the mirror.
''How can I say no to you when you beg so sweetly?'' he says, followed by a deep groan coming from his chest, and his arm snakes around your waist to replace your fingers with his.
''Don't take your eyes off the mirror,'' he orders, and your eyes snap up to meet his again after you were looking at where his fingers made contact with your dripping flesh.
His long, thin fingers slide into your entrance without hesitation, and he sets a slow but steady pace, making it difficult to keep eye contact as you melt into his touch.
The moans leaving your mouth are wanton, and you can barely keep your eyes open, let alone fixed on the sight in front of you.
''L-Loki! 'm cumming!'' you suddenly scream as he lets some warmth spread through his fingers with his magic, and it's like every sense got dialed to 10, and you couldn't hold back any longer.
Because he used his magic, it's like a little switch inside you flipped, and you felt a hot rush of liquid squirting out and over the bed, which made Loki grunt from deep within.
''Look at that! Cumming like the perfect slut for me, Gorgeous, I can't wait to fill you up with my cock and pump you full of every last drop of my seed,'' he whispers in your ear, licking along the shell of your ear before pulling his fingers out, and letting you come down from your high.
''Fuck, missed you so much,'' you pant before shifting a little, and your line of sight immediately drops down to your leaking pussy before Loki feeds you his fingers, allowing you to lick them clean with a moan.
When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he turns your head so you're facing him, and halfway, his lips meet yours in a tender, loving kiss that has you melting into his touch.
Your right hand finds its place in his long, black hair, and you tug softly, a soft moan leaving his lips as he spreads them to allow your tongue to mingle with his.
As much as you enjoy having sex with Loki, these intimate moments make it special for both of you. There has always been a deeper connection between you two, and even though it may not be romantic, you both know it goes deeper than friendship.
You can't think about this moment for too long, however, because before you can even say something, you're on your hands and knees before him, your chest pressed against the mattress, but your head turned so that you have to look at what he's doing.
He has already wrapped himself up, and before you can even think about what's happening, you feel Loki's hand press against your neck, the blunt head of his cock pushing into you while you moan.
''Fuck, feels so fucking good around me, Gorgeous,'' Loki says, and within no time, he's sliding into the hilt, hitting your sweet spot as he does so, and a whine escapes your lips.
After he lets you adjust to him, he starts setting a relatively rough pace that has you seeing stars and moaning and whining uncontrollably.
''Look at that, Gorgeous; look at how well you're doing for me right now!'' he commands, and your eyes move to the sight in front of you, and the mischievous smile on Loki's face is unmistakable.
Loki's hand shifts from the back of your neck to your throat, and he pulls you to him, his chest firm against your back while his pace doesn't slow down even remotely.
''See, Gorgeous? Look at how well we're made for each other! Taking my cock so well like my perfect little cockslut,'' he groans as he picks up his pace, chasing his high.
''C'mon, touch that perfect little clit of yours, and I'll cum with you; that's what you want, right? Want me to cum in this tight pussy of yours? Want to be filled with me cum until it drips out of you?'' he asks, but you're too far gone to be able to answer him.
Your brows are furrowed, and your jaw is entirely slack, moans and whimpers coming out of you uncontrollably as you find the strength to chase your high.
''C-cumming!'' you pant out, and Loki sets a brutal pace while looking at you in the mirror, keeping eye contact until you clench around him, and he can't hold back either.
With a roar of your name, he shoots all of his seed into the condom, and he lets you fall forward to catch your breath while he falls backward, slipping out of you simultaneously, and you whine at a loss.
Loki quickly discards the condom before switching positions and pulling you close, rubbing his hands softly over your back as he sings softly to you.
You're listening to what he's singing, which always calms you down, lulling you to sleep. He pulls the comforter over both of your bodies, and you snuggle into his arms and against his chest.
After 2-3 hours, you wake up with your back snuggly against his chest, Loki's arms wrapped around you protectively.
''Hi Gorgeous, did you have a good nap?'' he asks, and after a stretch, you nod with a big smile.
''Thank you for coming by,'' you say before kissing his nose and getting up. As much as you'd like to stay longer, you have some meetings to attend, and Loki has some business in Asgard to take care of again.
''Can't wait until next time, Gorgeous,'' he says, and with one last look back and a wave, you're off to your meeting, already thinking about the next time you'll see him again.
''Next time, I'll make you feel good in front of that mirror,'' you whisper to yourself. When you return to your room after your meetings, you see a bouquet of white roses on your bed, another tradition he started long ago.
''Next time, I'm taking you to my palace,'' the note says in his signature green handwriting, and you're looking forward to it already.
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